When Liang Xiao left the set, it was already close to dawn.
He dozed off on the way back and had a dream where time seemed indistinct. Duan Ming gently patted him awake when they arrived at the hotel.
The butler greeted him at the entrance: “Mr. Liang.”
Liang Xiao regained his composure and smiled at him: “You don’t have to trouble yourself.”
Film schedules were unpredictable, and late-night returns like this were inevitable. He couldn’t possibly have the butler waiting for him every night in the cold wind.
The butler, who didn’t need to wake up early tomorrow, quickly shook his head at Liang Xiao’s words: “Mr. Liang is family now. It’s only right to welcome family home.”
Liang Xiao froze for a moment.
Still feeling guilty about something President Huo had said earlier, the butler confirmed that Mr. Duan had indeed kept silent about it and finally breathed a sigh of relief: “Are you alright?”
Liang Xiao steadied his emotions and smiled faintly: “It’s nothing.”
Duan Ming went off with Xiao Gong to arrange accommodations, while Liang Xiao followed the butler into the elevator. Eventually, he couldn’t hold back and asked, “Has President Huo… gone to bed?”
The butler nodded with satisfaction: “He has, thanks to your note.”
Liang Xiao was startled: “President Huo read it?”
The butler, who had seen countless people and weathered many storms, was encountering for the first time a situation where both parties passing notes tacitly agreed not to open them: “…No.”
Liang Xiao let out a sigh of relief: “That’s good.”
The butler was puzzled: “Why?”
Liang Xiao’s ears turned slightly red. He coughed lightly and didn’t elaborate further.
When he wrote the note, it had been a moment of impulse. He couldn’t resist teasing their upright President Huo with some nonsense about being unable to sleep alone and desperately needing someone to warm his bed.
At the time, far away on set, Liang Xiao had been emboldened by distance. He figured that even if their proper and serious President Huo read such outrageous words and got angry enough to pin him down on the sofa for a spanking… well, that didn’t sound too bad.
But now that he was back at the hotel, guilt had crept in. He was genuinely worried that Huo Lan might bury him in snow for real.
Patting his chest to calm himself, Liang Xiao followed the butler out of the elevator.
To avoid disturbing President Huo, he didn’t turn on the lights. Instead, he chose a bathroom farther away and quietly washed up before changing into his pajamas. Only then did he return to open the door to the guest room.
“Mr. Duan has already brought your luggage over,” the butler said softly, holding a small bedside lamp as he followed Liang Xiao inside. “If you need anything, just let us know. President Huo will make all the arrangements.”
Liang Xiao smiled: “What could I possibly need… there’s no trouble at all.”
He’d been with film crews so many times that he’d lost count. When schedules were tight, he’d grab a backpack with just enough clothes and toiletries and head out.
With the standard of care in this presidential suite, he didn’t even need to bring his own toiletries.
Liang Xiao almost wanted to take advantage of it but restrained himself. Settling his thoughts, he turned on the light and said, “It’s fine now; you—”
Standing at the door of the guest room with one hand still on the frame, Liang Xiao froze in disbelief. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.
The butler couldn’t see past him and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Liang Xiao rubbed his eyes and looked again carefully before murmuring, “President Huo… really went above and beyond.”
On the bed was an impressive row of pillows neatly arranged in a line. Walking over, Liang Xiao lifted the blanket to reveal an equally impressive row of hot water bottles beneath it.
Liang Xiao stood there in silence for a long moment before picking up one of the hot water bottles and weighing it in his hand thoughtfully.
The butler finally saw what was on the bed and nearly blacked out from shock. Hastily trying to shift blame, he said hurriedly: “It might have been done by the captain of the bodyguards—”
Liang Xiao shook his head: “It was President Huo.”
The butler felt weak: “How… how do you know?”
Liang Xiao sighed: “President Huo couldn’t resist; he read my note.”
He truly had been unable to sleep alone and found it too cold at night—desperately needing someone or something to warm his bed.
Now? He wasn’t alone at all.
Now there was such an abundance of pillows on this massive bed that it seemed like there wouldn’t be any space left for him to sleep.
Liang Xiao had nothing more to say; he was utterly convinced. “Identify a problem, raise a problem, solve a problem…”
The butlerquickly stepped forward to help tidy up: “Please wait a moment; I’ll handle this right away—”
Liang Xiao waved him off: “No need.”
The butler looked at him with concern.
Liang Xiao gathered up the hot water bottles, guessed where President Huo might have intended them to be placed, stacked them neatly against the wall, and climbed into bed. He lay down amidst the overwhelming circle of pillows surrounding him.
Although the visual effect was somewhat startling, the feeling of lying down was undeniably comfortable.
Liang Xiao had been filming several scenes in close and medium shots, following the etiquette instructor’s requirements to keep his shoulders squared, back straight, and posture poised. The goal was to emphasize the slender and delicate appearance of a young man in flowing robes. Saying his body wasn’t sore would be a lie.
Sinking into the pillows, Liang Xiao found himself unexpectedly addicted to the comfort: “Thank you for your efforts. Go rest now.”
The butler was worried sick: “Mr. Liang…”
Feeling surprisingly satisfied, Liang Xiao yawned comfortably and poked his head out from between the pillows: “Good night.”
When the butler had gone to greet him earlier, everything had seemed fine. But upon returning to see this scene, even the assistant team outside looked bewildered, unable to figure out how to explain it.
After carefully observing Liang Xiao for a while and confirming he wasn’t displeased, the butler finally relaxed a little: “Please… rest well.”
Liang Xiao nodded.
The butler turned off the lights for him, bowed slightly, and left.
Listening to the sound of the door closing in the darkness, Liang Xiao rolled over and casually pulled a pillow into his arms.
…
To be honest, with Huo Lan not around at moments like this, he could breathe a little easier.
The events of the past were long gone, but even if young Liang Xiao had been stubborn back then, trying to forcibly uproot something already planted left pain—raw and deep—that tore at flesh and blood.
Even after so many years had passed, whenever something triggered those memories by chance, his chest would still feel tight and sour.
When Liang Xiao had his accident back then, Duan Ming had been overly cautious and worried. Anytime he experienced minor ailments like headaches or fevers afterward, it always caused his manager and assistants to run around anxiously in fear.
Later on, whenever such things happened again, he instinctively didn’t want anyone else to know.
Liang Xiao adjusted the pillow in his arms, tightened his grip slightly around it, and exhaled softly: “It’s fine now…”
He raised a hand to touch his own forehead before closing his eyes.
He didn’t know how long he lay there before his fatigue gradually blended into the night. Yet instead of falling asleep fully, most of his drowsiness dissipated.
Lying on the bed holding onto the pillow, Liang Xiao began counting sheep. By the time he reached 1,652 sheep, he suddenly heard someone gently pushing open the door.
The sound was extremely light—a slow turn of the doorknob.
A faint strip of light spilled through as the door opened slightly.
Liang Xiao’s nerves instantly tightened. He instinctively wanted to jump up but remembered where he was and barely managed to stay still.
The figure at the door stood there for a moment before their gaze fell on him.
Recalling how his previous attempt at pretending to sleep had been easily exposed, Liang Xiao felt determined this time. He carefully applied all his learned techniques—relaxing his entire body with closed eyes while letting his shoulders and back rise and fall naturally with his breathing.
The figure remained motionless for a while before seemingly confirming that Liang Xiao was sound asleep. They stepped lightly toward the bed.
Liang Xiao convincingly hugged his pillow tighter and turned over in his sleep.
Huo Lan paused mid-step as Liang Xiao’s movement caught his attention. He stopped for a moment before cautiously reaching out to touch him lightly.
Liang Xiao didn’t react.
Huo Lan relaxed slightly with a quiet sigh of relief before extending his hand again—this time gently tugging at the pillow Liang Xiao was holding in his arms.
Liang Xiao wasn’t sure why their President Huo had come in the middle of the night to steal his pillow. Thinking that someone who was supposedly asleep wouldn’t have much strength, he made a symbolic effort to hold onto the pillow before letting go and giving it up.
Huo Lan seemed to have just taken a hot shower, his warmth carrying a faint coolness, like the sensation of ice melting into spring water.
Liang Xiao felt a bit tempted, unable to resist making plans as he calmed himself. He prepared to take advantage of President Huo’s distraction and, while pretending to be asleep, sneak in a little nuzzle.
Just as he was about to act, Huo Lan suddenly lifted his blanket.
Liang Xiao: “…”
It seemed their President Huo might have been possessed by someone else.
Feeling uneasy, Liang Xiao hesitated over whether he should stop pretending to sleep and turn on the lights to check.
Huo Lan didn’t notice anything unusual. Holding Liang Xiao’s arm for a moment, he hesitated before placing the pillow aside and lying down himself.
Huo Lan moved with exceptional gentleness, replacing the pillow in Liang Xiao’s arms with himself. Then he reached out, pulled Liang Xiao into his chest, and softly stroked his hair.
Liang Xiao was stunned by this unexpected treatment, and a sudden pang stirred in his chest.
Worried about being exposed, Liang Xiao hurriedly held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut.
Sensing something off, Huo Lan tightened his hold slightly and began soothing him with slow, gentle pats.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Liang Xiao buried his face into Huo Lan’s shoulder and let out a quiet breath.
Huo Lan spoke softly: “I’m here.”
Liang Xiao’s heart skipped a beat.
Huo Lan had been sitting in the adjacent room earlier, deliberately waiting for an hour. He calculated that Liang Xiao must be deeply asleep by now after such an exhausting day before taking a hot shower and coming over with peace of mind.
He didn’t suspect that Liang Xiao was awake—he only worried that Liang Xiao might still be haunted by lingering fears from past traumas and struggling through nightmares.
Mr. Liang had once said that flowers and leaves couldn’t meet from morning till night—but nighttime didn’t count.
Huo Lan held him close against his chest, using the rhythm of his heartbeat to warm him slowly: “I’m here…”
Liang Xiao’s eyes grew hot.
Huo Lan wasn’t good at comforting people and couldn’t say much more than this. He simply repeated those words softly over and over, gradually sharing his warmth with Liang Xiao.
Any mischievous thoughts Liang Xiao had disappeared. He reached out and hugged Huo Lan tightly.
Huo Lan wrapped him protectively in return.
Resting against Huo Lan’s chest and shoulder, all the chaotic thoughts swirling in Liang Xiao’s mind gradually dissipated.
He curled up further into Huo Lan’s embrace as drowsiness overtook him. Before he knew it, he had fallen soundly asleep.
—
The next morning.
Liang Xiao stared blankly at the empty bed beside him for a moment.
“What’s wrong?”
Duan Ming entered to help him pack up and was startled by the sight of an entire bed filled with pillows upon pillows upon pillows: “You’ve finally stopped smuggling toiletries?”
Duan Ming frowned slightly and reminded him: “You can’t take pillows; if you do, they’ll charge you for them…”
Liang Xiao rubbed his forehead with one hand: “I won’t take them.”
Duan Ming, having heard him promise countless times not to take toiletries, still wasn’t entirely reassured. He gathered the pillows into a pile and showed Liang Xiao the filming schedule for the day.
“Today there’s an outdoor shoot. You’ll likely need to ride a horse.”
Duan Ming flipped through the script and read aloud: “The imperial guards perform martial arts, arrange spring rituals with various acts, miss the target repeatedly while shooting arrows and breaking willow branches…”
Liang Xiao had already memorized the lines and numbly recited, pressing his forehead: “The young marquis neither wears armor nor saddles his horse. Three arrows in succession, and with one lap, he plucks the tenderest tip of the willow branch.”
Duan Ming was stunned: “You even memorized the summary and narration?”
Liang Xiao hugged himself pitifully and let out a long sigh: “When I was memorizing it, I didn’t realize it was the summary and narration.”
Duan Ming: “…”
He patted Liang Xiao on the shoulder, opened the window to let in some fresh air, and noticed Liang Xiao looking listless: “Didn’t sleep well? What happened?”
Liang Xiao asked, “Brother Duan, did you see President Huo?”
Duan Ming thought for a moment: “President Huo hasn’t woken up yet.”
Liang Xiao had an early scene today, so he had to leave for the set earlier than usual. It wasn’t yet time for President Huo to get up.
When he arrived, the master bedroom door was closed. The captain of the bodyguards had even specifically told them that President Huo hadn’t been sleeping well these past few days, so they should move as quietly as possible.
Liang Xiao nodded lightly and murmured to himself: “Still hasn’t woken up…”
Confused, he muttered, “Am I finally starting to have spring dreams?”
Duan Ming was startled: “What?”
Liang Xiao touched the empty spot in the bed beside him, glanced at the pillow he had been hugging tightly all night, and rubbed his forehead again.
He clearly remembered that President Huo had come over in the middle of the night and held him while they slept.
It couldn’t possibly be a pillow magically coming to life to repay a favor. If it were a spring dream… well, that wasn’t entirely impossible either.
Looking back at the bed, Liang Xiao couldn’t help but sigh: “If it was a dream, it was way too seamless…”
If he had known it was a dream, he would have at least taken the opportunity to touch or kiss him!
Feeling like he’d missed out terribly, Liang Xiao regretted it for a while before pulling himself together. He got out of bed and drifted toward the bathroom with his eyes half-closed to wash up.
Duan Ming grabbed him and adjusted his direction: “Oh right, President Huo left a message for you through them.”
At first, Duan Ming had found this kind of communication strange, but after just a day, he had already adapted to it: “President Huo said that although Mr. Liang mentioned that morning and evening meetings were not allowed…”
Liang Xiao was baffled: “When did I say they weren’t allowed?”
Duan Ming didn’t know either but continued dutifully relaying the message: “…there wasn’t an exact definition of when ‘morning’ and ‘evening’ are.”
Liang Xiao: “…Oh.”
Duan Ming read out the rest of the message like a script: “President Huo’s proposal is from 6 a.m. to midnight. During this time frame, no matter how much President Huo misses Mr. Liang, he won’t take the initiative to come over.”
Duan Ming added: “What’s yours?”
Liang Xiao was distracted: “My what?”
“Your proposal,” Duan Ming explained. “President Huo already said you don’t need to write it down; just state it verbally.”
Liang Xiao hesitated: “I—”
Caught off guard by how far things had escalated from his initial whimsy, Liang Xiao put down his toothbrush and splashed water on his face: “Does it really have to be accurate down to the hour?”
“Yes,” Duan Ming nodded. “President Huo said that if you agree on midnight as the cutoff time, he can start preparing from 11 p.m.”
Duan Ming didn’t fully understand but still relayed it faithfully: “That way, starting from 10 p.m., he can allow himself to begin thinking about Mr. Liang.”
Liang Xiao froze for a moment.
He stood quietly for a while, suppressing the heat rising in his chest, and smiled lightly: “Alright.”
His ears burned slightly as he added, “Then my… proposal.”
Liang Xiao hadn’t expected that flowers and leaves could actually negotiate terms. Feeling a bit distracted, he coughed lightly: “From early twelve o’clock to late three o’clock…”
“…” Duan Ming raised an eyebrow: “Your definition of morning and evening is this broad?”
Liang Xiao steeled himself: “Yes.”
“No way,” Duan Ming replied. “President Huo said the morning’s range is from six to seven, and evening is from eleven to twelve.”
Duan Ming reminded him, “You also need time to focus on filming and memorizing your lines.”
Unable to resist, Duan Ming added another jab: “And memorizing summaries and narration…”
Liang Xiao felt a sharp pain in his knees: “Seven to eleven.”
Duan Ming nodded and noted the time for him: “You have one minute left.”
Liang Xiao blinked in confusion: “What?”
“President Huo said the timing will follow Mr. Liang’s proposal,” Duan Ming explained. He checked his watch: “There are fifty-seven seconds left until seven o’clock. You—”
Before Duan Ming could finish speaking, Liang Xiao had already vanished from sight.
Standing in place for two seconds, Duan Ming peeked out toward the master bedroom.
…
Remembering their agreement, Huo Lan had gotten up early by himself and quietly returned to the master bedroom.
He hadn’t slept well during the night and was still feeling drowsy. Lying on the bed with his eyes closed, pretending to rest, he suddenly heard a loud bang at the door.
Huo Lan frowned slightly and was about to ask sharply who it was when a figure rushed through the door and leapt straight at him.
Huo Lan was hit squarely: “…”
Dazed by the sudden impact, Huo Lan’s vision darkened momentarily. He didn’t even immediately register who it was before managing to speak with difficulty: “Get up—”
Liang Xiao didn’t have time to waste; he was racing against the clock: “No time!”
Recognizing Liang Xiao’s voice, Huo Lan instinctively raised his hand but hesitated, letting it hover lightly over Liang Xiao’s back.
Liang Xiao hugged him tightly for a brief second, aimed carefully at Huo Lan, planted a quick kiss on him, and dashed out of the room without looking back—just as the last second ticked away.
Why so silly?