The general manager of Longtao left with a grim expression, his face dark and full of frustration.
The butler stepped out to see him off, then quickly returned: “Mr. Huo—”
“Today’s matter,” Huo Lan said, “Do not mention it to Mr. Liang.”
The butler paused for a moment, opened his mouth, then swallowed his words: “…Understood.”
Longtao had signed the letter of intent, but the contract still needed to be sent back to Xingguan’s legal department for unified approval. Huo Lan reviewed it page by page and handed it back to the secretary department.
“At most, it will take five days to a week. We’ll go through the official legal process, and they won’t find any loopholes.”
The head of the secretary department had been chatting with the bodyguard captain these past few days and was somewhat aware of the key points Huo Lan cared about. He specifically assured, “We’ll make sure Mr. Liang transitions smoothly to Xingguan.”
Huo Lan nodded. “Go ahead.”
The head of the secretary department quickly packed up the contract and went to coordinate with the legal department.
The butler closed the door, observed Huo Lan’s expression for a moment, and hesitated: “Mr. Huo.”
Huo Lan closed his eyes, pressing his fingers firmly against his brow.
“Mr. Huo,” the butler said softly, sensing what he was thinking, “they were just angry… You don’t need to take the things they said about Mr. Liang to heart.”
To Longtao, Liang Xiao was just a failed trap, a broken omega. The suppression over the years had mostly been because they feared Huo Lan.
These people had always been used to scheming and crawling, and in their anger, they couldn’t hold their tongues.
But Huo Lan certainly couldn’t tolerate this.
…Not just this, but even hearing “sleeping with Liang Xiao” made him feel it belittled Liang Xiao.
The butler unknowingly became anxious, bringing his thoughts back to the present, and spoke softly to comfort him: “Once you acquire Longtao, they won’t be able to slander Mr. Liang anymore.”
Huo Lan took this in, nodding slightly: “Yes.”
“Do you think…” The butler observed his expression and continued guessing, “That Mr. Liang, while at Longtao, must have heard a lot of this kind of talk and suffered a lot of this kind of injustice?”
Huo Lan was struck by his words, his eyes closing tightly, his left hand gripping so hard his knuckles turned pale: “…Yes.”
The butler quickly sent a message to the bodyguard captain to buy a pound of thin-skinned walnuts, then returned to patiently comfort Huo Lan: “Mr. Liang must have been hurt, and it must have been hard for him.”
Huo Lan gripped his hand even tighter, silently raising his gaze.
“When a person’s heart is hurting…”
The butler cleared his throat cautiously: “Don’t they… just need walnuts to peel?”
Huo Lan: “…”
The butler quickly corrected himself: “You peel them.”
Huo Lan was just in a susceptible period, not out of his mind. His expression turned cold as he opened his computer: “No need to say more.”
“When someone is upset… they need to be comforted.”
The butler pretended not to hear, pressing on with his point: “If you comfort Mr. Liang, he won’t feel wronged anymore.”
After speaking, the butler held his breath, watching the cursor on Huo Lan’s computer move a few times before stopping at the end of a line of text, not moving again.
The butler secretly rejoiced and seized the opportunity: “Mr. Liang is almost better now. Will you sleep with him tonight?”
Huo Lan released the mouse, lifting his gaze to look at him.
The butler continued: “Before going to bed, you should give Mr. Liang something.”
“Something?” Huo Lan asked.
“Anything… just don’t write a letter,” the butler suddenly became alert, “and definitely don’t let Mr. Liang write a response to your letter.”
Huo Lan’s plan was abruptly shot down. He was stunned for a moment, then lowered his gaze without speaking.
His brows were sharp and cold, and as he remained silent with his eyes lowered, it only made him seem more tender to those who watched.
The butler held on for a while longer, then sighed and gave in: “You can write a letter…”
According to Duan Ming, when Liang Xiao received the apology letter, he was very moved and would occasionally take it out to read again.
He even put it in a hidden folder with two layers of passwords, refusing to share it with anyone no matter what.
The butler no longer expected Huo Lan to leave a mark on Liang Xiao in bed, but after thinking it over, he figured that writing a letter occasionally might add a bit of charm: “Mr. Liang isn’t good at writing, so don’t make him write a response.”
Huo Lan nodded.
“The contract still isn’t finalized,” the butler asked, “Are you planning to wait until everything is settled before telling Mr. Liang?”
Huo Lan would usually never admit it, but being in a susceptible period, he was honest for once, pausing for a moment before speaking: “His birthday is at the end of the month.”
Although Liang Xiao had said he was picked up by the orphanage director when he was little, and his official registration was based on the day they filed for his household registration, it was still a birthday.
Huo Lan, disregarding the usual procedures, had pushed Longtao to this point, forcing them to hand over the contract early, and in part, he had this thought in mind.
The butler, witnessing Huo Lan’s change firsthand, was stunned for a while, then couldn’t hide his joy: “Good, good, good.”
“Was Mr. Liang born in a leap year?” The butler flipped through the calendar, quickly jotting down notes. “It’s been exactly four years since that incident. Wiping away the past and starting fresh—this gift couldn’t be better…”
Huo Lan wasn’t entirely confident about the idea, but seeing the butler’s approval, his expression relaxed significantly. “Before that—”
“Don’t tell Mr. Liang.” The butler understood immediately. “It’s a secret, a surprise.”
This was the first time Huo Lan had done something like this, and he really didn’t want it to become a topic of repeated discussion. He shifted his focus back to work, putting the matter aside for now.
The butler, satisfied and relieved, left him alone after tidying up the room.
—
At the filming set.
After saying a single sentence, Liang Xiao didn’t offer any further explanation.
Chi Che met his clear and composed gaze, pondering for a moment before he seemed to understand. “Alright.”
Chi Che had come to find Liang Xiao to repay a favor. Seeing that Liang Xiao had already made up his mind, he didn’t press further. “If you ever need anything, Teacher Jiang’s studio is always ready to help.”
Liang Xiao smiled faintly. “Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you.” Chi Che extended a hand toward him. “If it weren’t for you, I might have—”
Liang Xiao interrupted, “You would’ve made it through.”
Chi Che was momentarily stunned.
The assistant director had already come over to urge them along. Liang Xiao didn’t have time to elaborate. He quickly shook Chi Che’s hand a few times before being whisked away to the makeup room by the crew.
Chi Che stood there, dazed for a moment, before turning to Duan Ming, who was packing up nearby.
Duan Ming guessed what he wanted to ask, smiled politely, and said, “There’s nothing I can’t tell you. Go ahead.”
“Mr. Liang…” Chi Che hesitated, carefully choosing his words. “At that time—”
“It wasn’t easy for him,” Duan Ming said as he set his things down, exhaling as he thought back. “Looking back now, during those days, we almost never saw him cry.”
Chi Che’s shoulders unconsciously tensed, and a faint heat crept up behind his ears.
Duan Ming didn’t notice his reaction. Rarely delving into the past, he rubbed his face and continued, “He didn’t seem upset. He even joked around with us… We were so dense, we actually thought he was fine.”
Chi Che frowned. “Did something happen later?”
“Not exactly,” Duan Ming shook his head. “But one night, he disappeared. We were terrified and spent half the night looking for him.”
Chi Che listened intently, his nerves taut. “Where did you find him?”
“…In the flower bed.”
Duan Ming pressed a hand to his forehead, smiling wryly. “He’d somehow gotten hold of a can of beer, drank less than half of it, and thought he was on a rooftop. He called us, crying, saying the rooftop was so cold and the wind was so strong.”
Chi Che: “…”
Duan Ming was actually a bit embarrassed to recount this piece of “dark history,” but since Liang Xiao had instructed him beforehand to share it to ease the other party’s mind, he could only comply. “So, we brought him back.”
Chi Che, empathizing with the situation, had braced himself to hear an especially tragic story. After a long pause, he reluctantly nodded. “Yes, that must have been… really tough.”
“It was tough,” Duan Ming sighed. “He clung to a lamppost and refused to let go, insisting we tie a safety rope around him.”
“…” Chi Che was completely at a loss for words. After holding back for a while, he couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
Seeing him laugh, Duan Ming relaxed as well and smiled back. “You should hurry back. Teacher Jiang is about to start a fight with the production assistants.”
This time, Jiang Pingchao seemed even more nervous than a manager. While Chi Che was talking to them, Jiang Pingchao had been standing near Liang Xiao’s set, keeping watch.
Duan Ming glanced over several times and felt that Jiang Pingchao hadn’t even shifted his posture.
Today’s scene had been delayed for three days, and now that everyone was finally present, Director Song refused to waste even a second. The assistant director, along with three production assistants, had been trying to persuade Jiang Pingchao to get into makeup, but to no avail. It looked like they were about to resort to carrying him away.
Chi Che snapped out of his thoughts, glanced toward the set, quickly thanked Duan Ming, and rushed over.
Duan Ming, his mission accomplished, packed up and headed to the makeup room.
LOL