President Huo came and went in a hurry but managed to return to the guest room just in time to share an entire piece of candy with Mr. Liang through gentle kisses.
The pace hit an all-time high.
Liang Xiao was thoroughly overwhelmed. Collapsing weakly back onto the bed, he clutched his chest and pressed it a few times with great difficulty.
Even Huo Lan’s ears were faintly tinged red as his chest rose and fell. He reached out to steady Liang Xiao but was promptly stopped: “Don’t move.”
Huo Lan paused briefly before withdrawing his hand.
“Too intense,” Liang Xiao gasped weakly. “Let me catch my breath…”
Huo Lan had lost control in the heat of the moment. Watching as Liang Xiao struggled to shift groggily on the bed, he clenched his fists and lowered his gaze: “I—”
Liang Xiao cut him off first: “No need to apologize.”
Interrupted mid-sentence, Huo Lan opened his mouth slightly but fell silent again.
With great effort, Liang Xiao turned himself over and coughed twice: “Hug… hugging is fine.”
Huo Lan’s gaze flickered slightly as he looked up and met Liang Xiao’s eyes.
Throwing caution to the wind, Liang Xiao shut his eyes tightly as if bracing for impact.
Their President Huo was truly gifted—so much so that even now, every word he spoke still carried a lingering cool sweetness in its taste.
Unable to resist savoring it further, Liang Xiao accidentally found himself once again overwhelmed by sweetness.
Seeing that Liang Xiao’s heart rate wasn’t stabilizing anytime soon, Huo Lan grew concerned. He gently held him while helping him sit up slightly and said in a low voice: “I’ll step out for now.”
“No need.” Liang Xiao reached out and grabbed him. “Talk to me about something serious.”
Huo Lan asked, “What serious topic?”
“Something about your work,” Liang Xiao thought for a moment, “or remind me that I won’t be able to finish memorizing my script.”
Having given two examples himself, Liang Xiao immediately felt as though cold water had been poured over him, snapping him back to reality: “I really might not finish memorizing the script…”
The time spent being affectionate wasn’t long—President Huo was strict with his self-control and hadn’t taken much time. The real issue was that Liang Xiao had fallen asleep as soon as he got back and slept until now.
Lines in costume dramas were far more complex than those in modern dramas. Every word might have been carefully chosen by the screenwriter, and even if the meaning was similar, the dialogue couldn’t be altered casually.
Director Jin’s requirement was that every word, including punctuation marks, must be memorized perfectly without deviation.
Liang Xiao grabbed his script, quickly flipped through a few pages, and felt his breath hitch as he stared at the overwhelming amount of dialogue.
Huo Lan paused slightly, watching as Liang Xiao trembled while holding the script and counted his lines tearfully one section at a time. Warmth gradually softened his gaze, and he lightly smiled as he reached out to pat Liang Xiao’s head.
Unable to resist, Liang Xiao leaned into his palm.
…
Snapping back to reality, Liang Xiao looked up in disbelief at the faint smile in President Huo’s eyes.
He hadn’t expected their President Huo to be this kind of person.
Liang Xiao lamented bitterly: “Is this schadenfreude?”
“No.” Huo Lan shook his head. “Mutual support.”
Just as Liang Xiao was about to accuse President Huo of lacking camaraderie, he froze upon hearing this and blinked.
“Go wash up first,” Huo Lan said as he picked up the script and glanced at Liang Xiao’s injuries. “Should I help you? Or—”
“I’ll do it myself!” Liang Xiao quickly decided.
Huo Lan lowered his gaze and nodded slightly.
Determined to save his energy for memorizing lines tonight, Liang Xiao firmly refused to let himself soften further. He let President Huo help him replace his bandages with waterproof ones before gathering his strength and heading to the bathroom to stand under the showerhead.
—
After taking a quick battle shower, Liang Xiao dried himself off, changed into pajamas, and returned to the bedroom where Huo Lan was quietly reading through the script.
Whatever Huo Lan did seemed focused and meticulous. Under the light, he flipped through each page of the script with precision. His shoulders and back remained upright and proper, while the shadows from his lashes appeared particularly deep under the lamp.
Carrying a towel on his head, Liang Xiao approached: “President Huo—”
“There’s a banquet on the 29th,” Huo Lan said as he put down the script and walked over. “There will be cameras present. The team will prepare custom-tailored suits and accessories.”
Liang Xiao remembered that he was supposed to adjust his public image and understood: “Is it industry-related? Charity or salon…?”
“Salon,” Huo Lan replied as he removed the towel from Liang Xiao’s head. “Primarily within the industry. It’s semi-public in nature—focused on resource sharing and networking.”
Liang Xiao found it troublesome; he usually relied on shaking his head to dry his hair. Seeing the blow dryer in Huo Lan’s hand, he instinctively stepped back cautiously: “Is the invitation for an individual?”
Huo Lan shook his head: “You can bring your team—up to three people.”
Liang Xiao’s team consisted of just two people. Hearing this, he nodded and prepared to take advantage of the moment to slip past Huo Lan. But as soon as he took a step forward, he was firmly pulled back.
Liang Xiao: “…”
Huo Lan held onto his arm and guided him to sit down.
Lowering his gaze slightly, Huo Lan hesitated before saying: “In a couple of days… they’ll need to take measurements for your suit.”
Liang Xiao was busy trying to avoid the blow dryer: “Do I need to adjust my schedule for it?”
Huo Lan paused briefly, his gaze lingering for a moment before shaking his head: “No need.”
Liang Xiao couldn’t understand why such a matter needed to be brought up specifically: “Then—”
The warm airflow from the blow dryer swept across the back of his neck, making Liang Xiao shiver involuntarily and completely forget what he was about to say.
“It’ll be quick,” Huo Lan said as he raised his hand to shield Liang Xiao’s exposed neck. “You just need to relax.”
It wasn’t that Liang Xiao wasn’t relaxed; he’d just always found blow dryers ticklish since childhood and didn’t particularly like using them. He tried to endure it for a few seconds but couldn’t resist dodging slightly.
Huo Lan guided him to lean against his chest, threading his fingers through Liang Xiao’s short hair and gently massaging it.
His palm was dry and warm, resting atop Liang Xiao’s head with a steady and comforting pressure.
Even the aggressive airflow from the blow dryer seemed to soften considerably.
Liang Xiao closed his eyes briefly, letting out a contented sigh: “Are you going?”
Huo Lan paused slightly.
Liang Xiao had asked casually but realized the implications as soon as the words left his mouth. Thinking it over, he added: “No, that wouldn’t be appropriate.”
Since the banquet was an industry networking event, Huo Lan attending either as Xingguan’s president or accompanying Liang Xiao would be somewhat inconvenient.
Huo Lan remained silent for a moment before responding softly: “Mm.”
Liang Xiao shrugged it off easily: “Then I’ll bring back two pieces of candy for you.”
Huo Lan brushed his fingers lightly through Liang Xiao’s hair.
Over the years, Liang Xiao had lived alone, constantly hustling to survive. He didn’t have the luxury of celebrating birthdays or indulging in such sentiments.
Huo Lan wasn’t surprised that Liang Xiao didn’t even remember his own birthday. He kept his thoughts to himself and simply nodded: “Alright.”
Feeling drowsy from Huo Lan’s gentle touch, Liang Xiao yawned and leaned back comfortably for a couple of seconds before suddenly snapping back to attention: “Wait—my script—”
“Go to bed,” Huo Lan instructed. “I’ll read it aloud for you.”
Liang Xiao suspected that Huo Lan might not fully understand the extent of his influence: “I’m afraid that won’t work. If you read it, I won’t be able to memorize it.”
Clearing his throat, Liang Xiao’s ears turned slightly red: “I… I won’t even be able to focus on listening.”
His attention would inevitably drift entirely toward President Huo’s voice and the movement of his Adam’s apple.
Taking a deep breath, Liang Xiao rose with determination: “It’s fine. I’ll read it aloud myself a few more times—once I get familiar with it, I’ll memorize it.”
Worst-case scenario, he’d pull an all-nighter.
Words carried emotions; perhaps out of pity for his sleepless effort, they’d willingly embed themselves in his mind.
Huo Lan shook his head and grasped Liang Xiao’s wrist: “Not without holding you.”
Liang Xiao couldn’t help but feel regretful: “Not—not holding me?”
Pressing his lips slightly together, Huo Lan led Liang Xiao to the bed, turned on the bedside lamp, and handed him paper and pen.
A sudden sense of foreboding rose in Liang Xiao’s chest: “…What are we doing?”
“I’ll read one line; you’ll memorize one line,” Huo Lan explained calmly. “If you can’t memorize it after three tries, you’ll write that line down once.”
Liang Xiao: “…”
His vision darkened, and he instinctively tried to flee, but Huo Lan gently pressed him back with one hand, causing him to reflexively sit cross-legged and upright.
Even Liang Xiao couldn’t recall where this reflex had come from. Now, sitting stiffly at the head of the bed with his shoulders straight, he was utterly miserable: “President Huo…”
Huo Lan picked up the highlighter and continued marking where Liang Xiao had left off: “Let’s begin.”
—
Over the next few days, Mr. Liang flawlessly memorized all his lines.
Duan Ming held the script in his hands and couldn’t help but marvel: “People always say that blood and tears fill the spaces between the lines. Turns out it can actually be true…”
Liang Xiao groaned in despair: “Brother Duan.”
Duan Ming observed the script, which now had countless QAQ faces scribbled between its lines, and patted Liang Xiao on the shoulder: “You’re capable of memorizing it; you just need pressure.”
Motivation alone wasn’t enough. For example, if President Huo promised a kiss for every page memorized, Mr. Liang would be too distracted to focus. But if he had to write down a line every time he failed to memorize it, Mr. Liang would make rapid progress.
Duan Ming sighed: “President Huo truly understands human nature…”
Mortified, Liang Xiao snatched the script and slammed it shut.
Curious, Duan Ming asked: “How did you memorize things back then?”
The memories were even harsher. Liang Xiao shuddered slightly as he recalled: “If I couldn’t memorize a line in one go, I’d have to write it down three times.”
Duan Ming: “…”
Liang Xiao sighed deeply: “If I got distracted again, I’d have to stand and memorize while balancing a book on my head.”
Young Liang Xiao had been too undisciplined and scattered to focus properly. Without such strict measures, he wouldn’t have been able to memorize a single word.
Under this extreme pressure, young Liang Xiao even developed the skill of dozing off while balancing a book against the corner of a wall. Nine times out of ten, he’d unknowingly fall asleep like this—only to wake up wrapped in blankets and lying in bed.
Duan Ming listened in astonishment and muttered: “What kind of fate is this…”
A life endlessly intertwined with knowledge.
Originally feeling upset, Liang Xiao found himself somewhat comforted after Duan Ming’s comparison. He brightened considerably: “President Huo is much gentler.”
Duan Ming agreed reluctantly: “…He is.”
Cheerfully, Liang Xiao added: “President Huo even lets me write cursive.”
![After losing all his wealth, the ancestor rose from his coffin [BL]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Your-paragraph-text-1.png "After losing all his wealth, the ancestor rose from his coffin [BL]")
