PHWM Chapter 31

Twenty years of self-control had completely crumbled in the hands of their President Huo.

 

Liang Xiao took a deep breath with his eyes closed, forcibly suppressing the stray thoughts rising in his mind.

 

At least he managed to hold out until Huo Lan left the room.

 

There was filming scheduled for the next morning. If he didn’t sleep soon, he might end up napping on the enemy’s interrogation chair in the middle of Director Song’s wrath.

 

The set had even prepared the props for torture in advance.

 

Liang Xiao pressed a hand to his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He gave his hair a rough, half-hearted ruffle and was just about to open his eyes and head back to bed when he suddenly felt a cold, snowy touch on his shoulders and back.

 

Startled, Liang Xiao opened his eyes. “Huo—”

 

Huo Lan, supporting his back and knees with steady hands, scooped him up and placed him back on the bed.

 

Liang Xiao blinked, momentarily dazed. He watched as Huo Lan bent over to settle him down, his movements practiced and efficient. After tucking him in securely, Huo Lan sat by the bedside and extended his left hand.

 

Liang Xiao quickly stopped him. “President Huo.”

 

Though the misunderstandings between them had piled high enough to land him in the presidential suite, he still felt it was necessary to clear up one thing: he didn’t have a “must sleep on President Huo’s left hand” persona.

 

Gripping Huo Lan’s hand, Liang Xiao carefully chose his words. “Actually—actually, there’s no need…”

 

Huo Lan glanced at him but didn’t place his hand under Liang Xiao’s head as usual. Instead, he tucked in the blanket corners and lightly covered Liang Xiao’s eyes with his palm.

 

Liang Xiao froze.

 

“Sleep.” Huo Lan’s voice was low and steady. “It’s fine now.”

 

For some reason, those three words struck a chord deep in Liang Xiao’s chest. His breath hitched slightly. After a moment of silence, his voice grew hoarse. “…President Huo.”

 

Huo Lan leaned over and turned off the lights.

 

The faint light slipping through his fingers disappeared entirely into the darkness. Huo Lan’s palm, warm and dry, rested over Liang Xiao’s eyes and forehead.

 

The night was deep, filled with the sound of calm, even breathing.

 

Liang Xiao closed his eyes tightly and didn’t say another word.

 

“…”

 

The butler, worldly and unflappable, listened calmly as his boss explained why he had ended up in the side bedroom with Mr. Liang again that evening.

 

“Mr. Liang fell asleep,” the butler summarized.

 

“And you couldn’t rest easy, so you stayed.”

 

The butler studied Huo Lan. “You believe that the moment you take your hand away, Mr. Liang will wake up.”

 

Huo Lan: “…”

 

Huo Lan didn’t want to speak. He opened the bathroom door, turned on the warm water, and splashed his face.

 

That morning, the butler had personally witnessed Huo Lan leaving the side bedroom. He couldn’t understand how, after all these days, their President Huo’s so-called progress amounted to flipping his hand from under Mr. Liang’s head to resting it on top of his head.

 

Meanwhile, Mr. Liang had at least managed to mess up President Huo’s clothes—and even used President Huo’s pristine, untouchable lap as a pillow.

 

“And you still believe that as soon as Mr. Liang wakes up,” the butler said incredulously, “and realizes he’s alone in the bedroom, he’ll never sleep well again in this lifetime.”

 

Huo Lan pressed his forehead. “No—”

 

The butler, clearly shaken, boldly continued, “Aside from that, you went into Mr. Liang’s bedroom in the middle of the night and did absolutely nothing else.”

 

Huo Lan caught the heavy skepticism in his tone and frowned. He couldn’t help but explain, “I also brought up the matter of housing.”

 

This was a decision Huo Lan had made unilaterally during a sleepless night. Even the general manager had only been informed that morning to take the fall for it. The butler hadn’t heard anything until now. “Housing?”

 

“His current place is rented, with no security. It’s too easy for someone with ill intentions to target him.”

 

Huo Lan grabbed a towel and gripped it in his hands. “Purchase a property, process it solely through Xingguan, use my personal account for the funds, and register it under his name. It doesn’t need to go into the company’s general ledger—”

 

The butler interjected, “You’re buying Mr. Liang a house.”

 

Huo Lan: “…”

 

Huo Lan no longer wanted to talk to him. He turned and walked out into the falling snow.

 

“You shouldn’t—”

 

The butler, brushing off the snowflakes that President Huo always used to signify his silent agreement, muttered in confusion, “You shouldn’t just solve Mr. Liang’s housing issue. Why not directly have Mr. Liang move into the house?”

 

All of the butler’s extensive experience was useless in this situation. The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. “We have plenty of rooms at home. If Mr. Liang lives closer to you, it’ll be more convenient for you to visit him. Whenever you want to find Mr. Liang, you can just go. You can even decide which bedroom to sleep in together…”

 

Huo Lan frowned. “What?”

 

The butler snapped back to reality. “You’re buying.”

 

Huo Lan did want to buy the house, but last night, he’d planned to quickly return to his room and write down Liang Xiao’s long list of requests. Unfortunately, he’d been delayed, and by the time morning came, he’d already forgotten half of it.

 

It wasn’t exactly appropriate to go back and ask again.

 

Huo Lan was feeling irritated. Without saying a word, he walked out of the door quickly in the snow.

 

The butler stood there for a long moment, sighed deeply with the weight of the world, tidied up, and headed downstairs to deal with the hotel, which had inexplicably received an anonymous thank-you letter from Xingguan.

 

On the set, Liang Xiao was surrounded by a few special effects makeup artists busily working on him.

 

It was their first time doing injury makeup on him, and when dealing with someone with good looks, they seemed particularly ruthless. Blood packs were splattered all over him, and still unsatisfied, they added several shocking whip marks across his neck and chest.

 

Even Liang Xiao was stunned. “Was I beaten this badly?”

 

“Jing Zhe’s identity is critical,” explained Song Qi, who also felt it might be a bit much but found it reasonable after some thought. “The enemy operatives’ entire covert network is in his head. Getting him out is like cutting off their lifeline.”

 

Liang Xiao thought to himself that even so, it shouldn’t warrant whipping his chest like this. He glanced down and tried his best to cover the torn and tattered shirt.

 

The makeup artists, captivated by his looks, spent over an hour perfecting the special effects makeup before finally letting him go.

 

Though the set had several space heaters and oil radiators, the area was too large for them to make much of a difference. Wearing only a shirt, Liang Xiao was already shivering, his lips turning pale from the cold.

 

Duan Ming couldn’t bear to watch and tried to drape a coat over him, but Liang Xiao stopped him. “No need… It’s just right.”

 

“What’s ‘just right’?” Duan Ming frowned. “Your face is practically bloodless.”

 

Liang Xiao reminded him, “All the blood’s on my chest.”

 

Duan Ming: “…”

 

Feeling uncomfortable with the see-through effect of his torn shirt, Liang Xiao adjusted it again, trying to cover as much as he could.

 

He had spent years working on sets as a stand-in, often performing high-difficulty stunts. Hanging on wires for an entire day wasn’t uncommon, so his physique was actually impressive for an omega.

 

But compared to their President Huo, the difference was still a matter of leagues.

 

Thinking of Huo Lan flipping him over with one hand last night, Liang Xiao felt a little wistful and sighed softly.

 

“What happened last night?” Duan Ming noticed his sigh and couldn’t help but worry. “Did you drag President Huo to the side bedroom again?”

 

Liang Xiao was exasperated. “No—”

 

“Then what?”

 

Liang Xiao couldn’t bring himself to imagine what these people would think if he said, ‘President Huo knocked on my door in the middle of the night, said he wanted to buy me a house, carried me to bed, but nothing else happened.’ Speechless for a moment, he let out another long sigh and walked off with the assistant director, looking equally forlorn.

 

The interrogation room set had been prepared long ago. The main cast members took turns visiting it as part of the shoot, each enduring it to some extent.

 

There was no need to deliberately arrange the scene. Scattered in the corners were various torture devices, and the light streaming through the tall, narrow iron bed fell on the bloodstains left from previous shoots, creating an unintentional atmosphere of grim severity.

 

Liang Xiao had the prop master put handcuffs and shackles on him, then was escorted to lie down in the electric chair.

 

“Electric torture is different from other interrogation methods,” Song Qi said, sitting on the tiger bench as he guided Liang Xiao through the scene. “Under electric current stimulation, a person’s senses become more sensitive. They can’t pass out, and the pain becomes even clearer.”

 

Liang Xiao nodded.

 

“Can you find the right feeling?” Song Qi prompted. “Try to think of the most painful experience you’ve ever had. A time when you thought you were going to die. Perhaps death would have been a release, but it didn’t come…”

 

“Director Song.” Liang Xiao smiled faintly. “I can find it.”

 

Song Qi glanced at him and said no more, turning a page of the script. “When you arrived, you had already resolved to die.”

 

Song Qi continued, “For you, it’s not about any party or belief.”

 

Liang Xiao tilted his head slightly. “Then what is it for?”

 

“Peace,” Song Qi replied. “You’ve seen war, famine, fields of corpses, and the most broken and desolate of landscapes.”

 

“You live with no place to call home, only wishing that in death, there might be somewhere to bury you.”

 

Song Qi added, “In your heart, you hope that the place where your bones are buried might one day be called your homeland.”

 

Liang Xiao closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and nodded.

 

Song Qi studied him for a while, then nodded and waved his hand.

 

“Scene 56 of Year-End, take one. Action!”

 

The spotlight suddenly flared to life, glaringly bright. The electric chair buzzed to life, accompanied by a sharp, grating alarm.

 

On camera, Yun Lian’s battered chest and shoulders tensed abruptly, his head and neck jerking backward.

 

He made no sound, his silence infuriating the interrogation team leader further. The man cursed loudly and barked orders to increase the voltage again and again.

 

Yun Lian’s body trembled uncontrollably, his Adam’s apple quivering slightly.

 

His consciousness began to blur, his gaze struggling to focus on a single point in the void before gradually losing its hold and scattering.

 

“More!” the leader roared. “Turn it up to 90!”

 

At this intensity, the electric current was at the limit of human endurance. One subordinate hesitated, worried. “If he dies…”

 

The special operations team had been interrogating Yun Lian for two full days. Not only had they failed to extract any valuable information, but they hadn’t even managed to strip away the infuriating calm and composure of this supposed con artist.

 

At 90 volts, the current could easily take a life. The team leader hesitated slightly, frowning as he was about to speak, when suddenly someone shouted in surprise and excitement, “He’s talking! He said something!”

 

The team leader yanked the person away and leaned close to Yun Lian. “What did you say?”

 

Yun Lian’s chest rose and fell faintly, his body occasionally shuddering from the electric shocks. His long, dark eyelashes were drenched in cold sweat, making them as black as ink.

 

When the current reached its limit, he could barely tell where he was. His lips moved slightly, but then he closed his eyes again.

 

“Old Mountain…” His subordinate vaguely heard the words, furrowing his brows in speculation. “Is it a code name? Could it be one of their lines?”

 

The team leader turned off the electric chair and yanked Yun Lian’s collar. “Speak quickly, what about Old Mountain?”

 

Yun Lian, disturbed, had been calming down, but his eyelashes fluttered slightly, opening just a crack.

 

The team leader, worried he wouldn’t be able to finish his words, gestured for the military doctor to come over and pressed harder. “What about Old Mountain?”

 

Yun Lian: “Old Mountain… Pine and bamboo, old.”

 

Yun Lian smiled faintly, his voice soft and warm despite the pain. “It blocks my way home.”

 

His consciousness was already fading, but there was a trace of a smile in his eyes. No one knew what he was seeing, and for a moment, the interrogation room fell unusually silent.

 

The camera shifted, and through the tightly sealed iron bars of the ventilation window, the pale, blinding sunlight poured in.

 

…

 

“Cut!” Song Qi’s voice rang out from the sidelines, filled with rare admiration. “Beautiful! Quickly, get him down—”

 

Liang Xiao quickly jumped off the electric chair, raising his hand to report. “Director Song, I’m still alive.”

 

Song Qi: “…”

 

The screenwriter quickly covered Liang Xiao’s mouth, handing him over to the manager, and pulled the director, who hadn’t yet exited character, to review the playback.

 

Liang Xiao had nailed the tortured state perfectly. He was wrapped in a down jacket by Duan Ming, shivering as he drank a few sips of hot water. By now, a crowd had gathered around him.

 

“Any tricks to it?” Meng Feibai, who had originally been waiting for his next scene, passed by and glanced at him. After staying at the side for most of the scene, he approached with a voice recorder, asking, “How did you quickly get into the dying state…”

 

Liang Xiao, holding the thermos, thought carefully before answering. “It’s all in my imagination.”

 

He had his own special circumstances, and though this sounded like an excuse, he added an extra explanation. “When I was young, I had a breakdown. I wasn’t prepared, and my pheromones erupted once. It was a similar state.”

 

Meng Feibai understood, letting out a long sigh. “What a pity.”

 

He was just a beta, unable to even perceive their pheromones, let alone experience such things himself.

 

Focused on acting, Meng Feibai felt some regret but knew this kind of experience could only be understood, not explained. He didn’t ask further.

 

“It’s not a pity,” Liang Xiao smiled. “It’s not a pleasant feeling. If it happens again—”

 

He suddenly paused, not continuing his sentence.

 

“What do you mean by ‘if it happens again’?” Meng Feibai asked.

 

“Nothing,” Liang Xiao shook his head, gesturing behind him. “Teacher Meng, the assistant director is calling.”

 

Meng Feibai realized it was time for his scene and quickly thanked him, grabbing his script and hurriedly saying goodbye, heading off to adjust the lighting and blocking.

 

“…That must have been awful.”

 

Duan Ming furrowed his brows and zipped up the down jacket for him. “What did you do back then?”

 

Liang Xiao, worried about dirtying the clothes, raised his hand to avoid it but was still completely bundled up like a ball. “What?”

 

“Your pheromones erupted,” Duan Ming said, recalling the time he had seen him at Long Tao. He was still uneasy about it and couldn’t help but wonder what had happened when Liang Xiao was younger. “There are emergency devices on the side of the road, and even delivery services for suppressants. Were you tied to a utility pole when you went through your differentiation?”

 

Liang Xiao sipped the hot water in small gulps but was choked by his question. “…No.”

 

Liang Xiao thought for a moment, feeling a little guilty. “I tied someone else up.”

 

Duan Ming: “??”

 

Liang Xiao didn’t know how to explain it, so he vaguely defended himself. “I don’t have any criminal record…”

 

“You’re an omega,” Duan Ming said, knowing full well that Liang Xiao didn’t have any criminal record, but still trying to make sense of it. “Did you know you were going to be an omega back then?”

 

Before differentiation, a test was usually done in advance. Liang Xiao moved closer to the electric heater, nodding. “I knew.”

 

Duan Ming: “You’re an omega. When you differentiated, you tied someone else up, someone who could’ve helped you get suppressant.”

 

“…” Liang Xiao was speechless for a moment, then thought about it carefully. “Yes.”

 

Duan Ming: “You—”

 

“Brother Duan, please stop asking.”

 

Liang Xiao had indeed encountered some special circumstances back then, and had acted out of necessity. He was still young at the time, and now looking back, he felt guilty. “Ask me about something else…”

 

Duan Ming stared at him for a while, then sighed. “Fine.”

 

Duan Ming studied him closely. “What happened this morning?”

 

Liang Xiao felt a headache coming on and just then heard the director’s team calling for him. He quickly handed the thermos to Duan Ming, bundled himself up in the down jacket, and, holding the hand warmer, hopped off.

 

…

 

The more Duan Ming thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. He pulled his assistant over to keep an eye on Liang Xiao and returned to the hotel.

 

He was in a hurry and had just reached the elevator when he ran into the butler coming out. “Butler Huo—”

 

“Nothing happened,” the butler sighed. “Our Mr. Huo can’t sleep if he’s not beside Mr. Liang.”

 

Huo Lan insisted on staying to take care of Mr. Liang, but the butler knew better than anyone that even though Huo Lan had only slept at the head of the bed these past two nights, his sleep quality was still better than most people who didn’t use sleeping pills.

 

Mr. Huo slept well, and Mr. Liang slept well too.

 

Only the butler had endured it all.

 

Duan Ming had already imagined countless scenarios and stood there stunned for a while, his understanding slightly shaken. “Is this what they mean by a destined, highly compatible Alpha and omega…?”

 

As long as they were together, they could find peace and tranquility.

 

…So, does that mean the pheromone setup was meaningless?

 

The novel Liang Xiao had given him clearly didn’t say anything like that.

 

The pheromone compatibility test between Liang Xiao and Huo Lan showed a match of over 98%. According to the heartless novels Liang Xiao had written, President Huo would eventually pin him to the bed, bite the back of his neck, hold his wrists tightly, and force him to tremble and cry in the cold, surrounded by pheromones.

 

The butler called out to him a few times, seeing him lost in thought. “Mr. Duan?”

 

Duan Ming, startled by the thought of Liang Xiao crying, cursed himself internally. “Impossible.”

 

The butler paused for a moment. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Duan Ming shook his head forcefully, dispelling the thought completely. “President Huo couldn’t possibly be that kind of Alpha.”

 

The butler was in the middle of explaining how Mr. Huo was planning to buy a house for Mr. Liang when he sighed. “You can’t judge a book by its cover…”

 

Duan Ming was speechless.

 

“Although Mr. Huo is very straightforward and never plays favorites, when he gets stubborn, no one can stop him.”

 

The butler sighed again, reminiscing about the past. “In the first two years after Mr. Huo took over the family business, Feiyang Pharmaceuticals was struggling. It had stopped production for half a year, and it was on the verge of bankruptcy.”

 

At that time, Feiyang Pharmaceuticals was still called Hengtong Pharmaceuticals, a small subsidiary of the Huo family that had been unremarkable. Even before it stopped production, it had been ineffective for a long time.

 

The Huo family was in turmoil, and the board members advised Huo Lan to cut his losses and survive. But the young Huo Lan, for some reason, was particularly stubborn about this one matter, almost to the point of being reckless. No matter how much anyone advised him, he wouldn’t listen and poured most of the liquid assets into that subsidiary.

 

Feiyang Pharmaceuticals seized the opportunity, focusing on the pheromone-related products that the market was still lacking at the time. With a large injection of capital, the company revived and earned a fortune.

 

In the following years, Feiyang Pharmaceuticals became a key pillar in the revival of the Huo family business.

 

Otherwise, Mr. Huo wouldn’t have been able to buy so many suppressants for Mr. Liang all at once.

 

…

 

So this time, when Mr. Huo says he’s going to buy a house for Mr. Liang, even if the entire leadership of Xingguan is bribed by Long Tao and suddenly refuses, he will still buy the house for Mr. Liang.

 

The butler finished reminiscing about the past and looked at Duan Ming, who was still in a daze. He paused for a moment. “Mr. Duan?”

 

“…It’s nothing.” Duan Ming snapped back to reality and struggled to follow the butler’s train of thought. “President Huo is buying him a house?”

 

“I don’t know what triggered it,” the butler said, looking troubled. “He seems to be in a hurry.”

 

Duan Ming didn’t dwell on the butler’s concerns as much. Instead, he couldn’t help but feel happy for Liang Xiao. “Good, he won’t have to keep moving anymore.”

 

The butler had a feeling that Liang Xiao would have to move again at least once more, but he held back and nodded in agreement. “Yes.”

 

Duan Ming couldn’t resist asking, “What kind of house is he buying? Can we choose?”

 

“Since it’s for Mr. Liang, of course, he can choose.”

 

The butler had watched how Huo Lan sent Liang Xiao off, his heart aching, but he still had to maintain a composed smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll contact you first when the time comes.”

 

Duan Ming was genuinely happy for Liang Xiao. “Thank you to President Huo. He’s wanted a home for years.”

 

The butler paused, then didn’t say anything further.

 

Duan Ming had seen a lot in the industry over the years and had originally thought it was just another fleeting romance, but now, seeing Huo Lan’s attitude, he felt more at ease.

 

Liang Xiao’s filming was nearing completion, with a few shots left to be reshot in the editing process. Today, there were still a few scenes to shoot. His assistant couldn’t handle everything alone, so Duan Ming returned to hand over the information and then had to head back to the set to supervise.

 

Feeling uplifted by the good news, Duan Ming chatted a bit more with the butler, then happily reassured himself. “I’ll head back first. Do you have something to do?”

 

The butler stood in the hotel lobby, deep in thought, and after a long pause, sighed heavily. “I do.”

 

Duan Ming was taken aback and, out of politeness, asked, “What’s the matter? Is there anything we can help with?”

 

The butler had been with the Huo family for thirty years and had been caught off guard by one new challenge after another. He sighed deeply, holding Duan Ming’s hands. “Mr. Duan.”

 

Duan Ming instinctively shook the butler’s hand.

 

“You know, after convincing the hotel owner that the bath products in the bathroom really did disappear mysteriously…” The butler sounded a bit desperate. “How do I convince the hotel owner again that there really is heating in the standard rooms?”

 

 

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