The production manager temporarily settled Liang Xiao in the crew’s large room, hurriedly went out for half the night, and returned with a particularly grim expression.
“It’s okay,” Liang Xiao spoke up. “I didn’t enter the room.”
“Fortunately, you didn’t go in.”
The production manager sighed: “We searched thoroughly and found a pinhole camera installed under the TV. It’s almost impossible to notice without careful inspection…”
Liang Xiao nodded: “It’s best to check the other teachers’ rooms as well.”
“We’ve contacted all teams. They’ll inspect overnight and hold the hotel accountable tomorrow morning.”
The production manager closed the door, pondered for a moment, and gave them some inside information: “It might not necessarily be targeted at you… This drama has a betting agreement.”
Duan Ming immediately understood: “Is someone sabotaging?”
“It’s hard to say,” the production manager rubbed his forehead. “If something goes wrong, the impact would be much more severe than for ordinary shoots.”
Director Jin focuses solely on filming and never deals with these matters. But period dramas already have large funding gaps for art design, and with the recent film industry winter, raising investments has become increasingly difficult.
Jin Zhenbo has been directing for so many years; it’s impossible not to have made enemies. If a drama with a betting agreement encounters problems, just the pressure of paying compensation out of pocket could cause the production to halt immediately.
The production manager, still shaken, thanked Liang Xiao: “Fortunately, you discovered it early.”
Liang Xiao smiled and shook his head.
“Don’t worry, this kind of tactic will only happen once. If it happens again, we’ll resort to legal action.”
The production manager continued: “Tomorrow, the logistics producer will book new hotels. We’ve opened several clean rooms that have been thoroughly checked. You–”
Duan Ming promptly interjected: “No need, we’ll stay elsewhere.”
The production manager was taken aback and hesitated to speak.
“It’s an issue on our side,” Duan Ming glanced at Liang Xiao, pondered briefly, and made up an excuse in a low voice. “We’ve just transferred to Xingguan, the contract was just finalized, so we need to be extra careful…”
The production manager immediately understood: “I see, I see.”
Regardless of whose problem it is, no company would like an artist who causes trouble right after transferring.
In such an unexpected situation, it’s understandable for Liang Xiao to be cautious and request to stay elsewhere.
“It’s a reasonable request,” the production manager called the finance department. “Mr. Liang will stay outside. The production will reimburse any expenses incurred.”
Duan Ming didn’t refuse and expressed his thanks.
The production manager waved it off repeatedly, then sincerely apologized for tonight’s oversight before seeing them out.
Liang Xiao had detected the situation too early, and the crew handled it swiftly. Both inside and outside the hotel remained quietly undisturbed.
The assistant, experiencing such behind-the-scenes machinations in the industry for the first time, worriedly asked: “Will this happen again in the future?”
“No,” Liang Xiao shook his head. “This kind of thing only happens once.”
There are unwritten rules in the industry. When such underhanded tactics are used and quickly crushed before causing any ripples, those behind it will wisely back off to avoid being retaliated against to the point of disappearing from the circle.
Regardless of unspoken rules, investors who signed betting agreements wouldn’t stand by and let such things happen either.
The assistant sighed in relief: “Director Jin will be furious tomorrow.”
Liang Xiao smiled, walked a few steps, then couldn’t resist asking curiously: “Brother Duan?”
Duan Ming snapped back to attention: “What?”
Liang Xiao waved his hand in front of him: “What are you thinking about?”
“I wasn’t–”
Duan Ming held back for a while, then sighed heavily: “It’s nothing, I was just… thinking nonsense.”
Duan Ming rubbed his face forcefully and said in a low voice: “Before the production manager came back, I was thinking… what if it was President Huo who came to give you a surprise.”
Although given President Huo’s temperament, he’s unlikely to do something that might slightly offend Liang Xiao, there’s a chance he got caught up in some logic from the butler and temporarily lost his senses.
Duan Ming had been holding onto a glimmer of hope that it would turn out to be a misunderstanding, with the crew returning with several snow-white ice sculptures to invite them over.
Liang Xiao was clear-headed and shook his head: “Then my hand would have been stuck to the door.”
Duan Ming: “…”
Seeing Duan Ming’s expression still troubled, Liang Xiao took the initiative to analyze for his manager: “Based on the speed of President Huo blowing up kitchens and renovating his mansion, his next visit will probably be in one or two days.”
Duan Ming: “Can’t the speed of mansion renovation be a variable?”
Liang Xiao hadn’t considered this and was stunned for a moment. While he was still calculating, Duan Ming had already handed him two heat packs.
Liang Xiao didn’t feel cold: “No need…”
Duan Ming opened them directly: “Put them on.”
Liang Xiao had returned from the set and hadn’t even taken a hot shower yet. Without realizing it, his lips had already turned visibly pale from the cold.
Duan Ming somewhat regretted not going back to the room to get him some thick clothes. He messaged the Xingguan team and asked again where the car was: “Where are we staying tonight?”
Duan Ming had already checked earlier but couldn’t find anything too suitable: “There are a few hotels in the city center, but they’re a bit far. We might not get there until midnight. Nearby, apart from this one, there’s only a five-star hotel left…”
Liang Xiao handed him the red envelope from the production manager: “Brother Duan, you and Xiao Gong choose a place to stay.”
Duan Ming was taken aback: “Are you planning to run home crying to find President Huo?”
Liang Xiao looked at him incredulously: “…”
Duan Ming took back his words: “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” Liang Xiao said vaguely. “I’ll meet up with the crew directly tomorrow.”
Duan Ming was silent for a moment, then translated: “You’re not planning to sleep tonight and will make do in the car for the night.”
Liang Xiao opened his mouth but didn’t speak, lowering his head with a smile.
Duan Ming felt a lump in his throat: “We won’t go either. We’ll stay with you.”
Liang Xiao: “…Brother Duan.”
Duan Ming tried to return the red envelope to him.
Liang Xiao didn’t take it, holding his hand, moved for a moment: “The car can’t accommodate three people comfortably. If you’re not in the car, I can at least lie down for a bit.”
Duan Ming: “…”
The van was spacious, with air conditioning and a small sofa. Sleeping in clothes for a night wasn’t actually that uncomfortable.
Liang Xiao didn’t really want to spend the night lying embraced with his manager and assistant. He was a bit troubled and was carefully considering how to persuade them further when Duan Ming covered his mouth and pushed him back.
Duan Ming was so frustrated he had a headache. After a moment of silence, he sighed softly: “Don’t always be like this.”
Liang Xiao was stunned: “Like what?”
“Holding it in,” Duan Ming said. “You did the same thing back then. We all knew you were suffering, but you wouldn’t say anything. You had to wait until you were drunk to have a good cry…”
Liang Xiao blinked, not saying anything.
The assistant quietly tried to explain for Liang Xiao: “Brother Xiao didn’t do that. He got drunk in the flower bed, thought he was on the rooftop, and cried because he felt the wind was too strong.”
“…” Liang Xiao patted his back: “Thanks.”
The assistant firmly stood on his side, nodding to Liang Xiao and moving closer to him.
Duan Ming didn’t continue. He checked the time and looked for the shadow of the car in the pitch-black night outside the window.
That day, Liang Xiao was drunk and acting foolishly. After they finally managed to rescue him safely from the flower bed that was less than half a meter off the ground, with safety ropes tied around him, he was still crying profusely.
He looked clean and pure, with clear youthful features in his eyes and brows, crying so hard he had curled into a tight ball.
The group of rescuers, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, also felt their hearts soften. Without saying much, they draped a blanket over him and led him to an empty rest room to recover.
Duan Ming, busy dealing with a multitude of issues, had thanked everyone hurriedly before striding back, ready to scold Liang Xiao.
The rest room door was slightly ajar, with just a small gap.
Duan Ming was about to push the door open when he suddenly sensed something was wrong.
Liang Xiao, drunk and barely conscious, was kneeling on the ground, tightly hugging the blanket, his body shaking as he cried silently.
…
Duan Ming had never wanted so badly for their President Huo to pin Liang Xiao down on the office desk and kiss him: “Do you want to… give President Huo a call?”
Liang Xiao was in the middle of applying his heat packs and looked up in surprise: “Now?”
It was already past midnight. Duan Ming looked at the pitch-black night and deflated: “Never mind, President Huo is probably tired from blowing things up.”
Liang Xiao finished applying the heat packs and wrapped his coat tighter around himself.
“It’s fine, I’ve asked about it. It’s just subconscious stress response… I can’t control it consciously,” Liang Xiao explained softly as he walked to the door. “It’ll get better in a few years.”
Duan Ming looked at him without saying a word.
Liang Xiao stood for a moment, then opened the door and looked outside.
There was no moon or starlight. The lamplight flickered in the wind, illuminating the almost impenetrable darkness of the night.
Duan Ming couldn’t help but reach out to pull him back: “Come back–”
Liang Xiao pointed outside: “The car’s here.”
Duan Ming was stunned for a moment, looking at the van parked at the entrance. He shook his head to clear his mind and grabbed Liang Xiao: “Wait, let us go check first.”
Liang Xiao said hoarsely: “It’s fine.”
“It’s always better to be cautious,” Duan Ming pulled him back. “What if there’s another problem in the car and you have another stress response? Xiao Gong and I would end up sleeping under a bridge with you…”
Liang Xiao couldn’t help but laugh: “It won’t happen. This time there’s definitely no problem.”
Duan Ming frowned: “Why?”
“It’s metaphysical,” Liang Xiao looked outside. “A sixth sense honed through experience.”
Duan Ming: “…”
“Really, it was the same when I noticed something was off with the door earlier.”
Liang Xiao opened the door: “My sixth sense told me that door definitely had a problem.”
Duan Ming, feeling dejected, robotically played along: “And this time?”
This time the car window was open, and Liang Xiao recognized the driver assigned by Xingguan. He had already carefully checked the driver’s cabin in the light earlier.
Liang Xiao was confident: “No problem. It’s just an ordinary van with an ordinary driver inside, nothing else.”
The van stopped at the entrance. Liang Xiao reassured his manager, swearing: “Definitely no problem. Trust my intuition.”
Duan Ming: “There’s nothing in the car?”
“There’s nothing in the car.”
Liang Xiao trusted Xingguan and knew Huo Lan would never let him be in any danger.
Liang Xiao confidently opened the car door: “My well-honed sixth sense–”
Liang Xiao: “…”
Duan Ming: “What’s wrong?”
Liang Xiao: “I was wrong.”
Duan Ming was taken aback and was about to ask more when he saw Liang Xiao quickly close the car door.
Liang Xiao turned back, hastily stuffing the red envelope into Duan Ming’s arms: “Brother Duan, take Xiao Gong and stay at the five-star hotel. If it’s not enough money, I’ll make up the difference…”
Duan Ming, seeing him so generous for the first time, caught the envelope and joked: “What about you? Going to hire an alpha for a night of indulgence?”
Liang Xiao’s eyes widened in disbelief. He stared at Duan Ming for a while, his ears gradually turning red: “…Yes.”
Duan Ming: “???”
Liang Xiao had no time to explain. He pushed Duan Ming and Xiao Gong into the following car, ran back in a few steps, and opened the van door, slightly out of breath.
The warm light spilled out from the car door, flooding the cold, dark night.
The alpha who was supposedly going to be “indulged” for the night, trapped inside the car, was only hastily dressed in a shirt.
His collar was unusually disheveled, and his cuffs weren’t fully buttoned. His dark eyes were fixed intently on Liang Xiao.
“Liang Xiao.”
Huo Lan reached out his hand: “Let’s go home.”
