Duan Ming urgently contacted the film crew team, followed all the way upstairs, and watched as Liang Xiao was pushed into the hospital room, put on an IV, and given an emergency physical examination.
President Huo didn’t leave his side for a moment, clutching his hand, his posture so rigid that he appeared almost motionless.
“It is indeed a severe cold… no lung infection, but we still need to bring down the high fever.”
The butler intercepted the manager outside the door and explained: “His constitution isn’t strong, he hasn’t been resting well lately, and he’s been mentally and physically exhausted. He needs to recover.”
The butler said softly: “The doctor said that fever is actually the body’s self-protection mechanism. As long as it’s not prolonged high fever, it can be somewhat beneficial for the body. The main thing is rest…”
Duan Ming took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and leaned back against the wall: “I understand.”
Liang Xiao was still unconscious with fever, and having more people go in now wouldn’t help.
They couldn’t be of assistance and would only disturb and cause trouble.
“President Huo…”
Duan Ming looked into the hospital room again, barely reassured, and tried to gather his thoughts: “Is President Huo really from Jiangnan-”
The butler smiled wryly: “Yes, he is.”
“We had originally planned to gradually reveal this to Mr. Liang through you.”
The butler explained in a low voice: “That’s why we kept telling you, but we didn’t expect those people to beat us to it.”
Duan Ming’s expression darkened: “Is it the Huo family’s branch families?”
“Not just them,” the butler said. “This time, Long Tao set the bait, and the branch families took it.”
The acquisition of Long Tao had officially been put on the agenda. With increasing pressure from Xingguan, Long Tao could no longer hold on but still wanted to struggle one last time, at least to gain some leverage for price negotiations.
Not just Liang Xiao, but many Xingguan artists had been targeted by Long Tao’s comprehensive, vicious, and underhanded methods. The public relations and marketing departments had been fully engaged in dealing with these issues in recent days.
The branch families had been holding onto this bomb, planning to detonate it after President Huo and Liang Xiao went public, possibly creating enough confusion to muddy the waters. But now that Long Tao had provoked them into releasing it prematurely, in the context of the PR battle between Xingguan and Long Tao these days, it barely made a splash.
“So Xingguan originally didn’t take it seriously… just included it in a regular report without special notation.”
The butler said softly: “By the time President Huo saw it, it was already too late.”
In recent years, as Xingguan had gradually gotten on track, President Huo hadn’t been so furious for a long time. A room full of the work team was silent with fear, not daring to speak, hurriedly preparing a car to go to the film set.
President Huo had been calling Liang Xiao continuously in the car but couldn’t get through.
Duan Ming rubbed his face hard and smiled bitterly: “He puts his phone on silent when filming, and we didn’t notice…”
“We know,” the butler nodded quickly. “We’re not blaming you or Mr. Liang.”
“President Huo… has always been afraid Mr. Liang would misunderstand.”
The butler looked at the half-closed door of the hospital room: “President Huo has wanted to explain everything to Mr. Liang for a long time but never found the right opportunity. He was always preparing, but never expected it would happen in this way.”
The butler hesitated, looking at Duan Ming: “You-”
“I don’t know if he understood,” Duan Ming said, cutting off the butler’s words with a twist of his lips. “When I was talking to him, he wasn’t listening. He kept telling me over and over that it wasn’t the person from Jiangnan who betrayed him.”
Duan Ming had tried to listen to Liang Xiao’s conversation with President Huo before he passed out from fever but was completely confused and still had no clue: “It’s possible that with all President Huo said, he didn’t hear a single word…”
The butler hadn’t expected him to say this and shook his head: “Mr. Liang understood.”
Duan Ming was taken aback: “Why?”
“Mr. Liang understood, that’s why he asked President Huo not to blame himself.”
The butler, having followed President Huo for many years, saw things more clearly than others. After a moment of silence, he continued: “Mr. Liang probably very much hoped… that the person from back then wasn’t President Huo.”
“Yes…” Duan Ming remembered and nodded, puzzled. “But why-”
“Mr. Liang understands more clearly than anyone,” the butler said softly. “If they were the ones who met each other back then…”
The butler continued: “The one who would least forgive that person from Jiangnan is President Huo himself.”
–
Liang Xiao’s fever made him dizzy and disoriented, though his physical discomfort had somewhat faded. His consciousness floated lightly, tumbling in confused turmoil.
Poor nutrition, could be knocked down with one hand.
Punishing him by making him copy scripts, forcing him to sit up straight, knowing he definitely couldn’t memorize them.
Knowing he feared bitter medicine, knowing what candies he liked.
No matter what problem arose, would always explain it to him until he either completely understood or broke down.
Meticulous to the point of rigidity, believing whatever others said, and naively helping once he believed. Giving away meal cards and half a warehouse of suppressants without hesitation, a natural-born lamb for the slaughter…
President Huo’s voice echoed repeatedly in his ears.
The thin, frail, bespectacled youth from his memories suddenly had a name.
Pulled by that name, past dreams came one after another, imprisoning him like walls drawn on the ground, preventing him from waking up.
…
Light flickered outside his closed eyelids. Liang Xiao frowned deeply, trying to turn his head toward somewhere quieter.
A familiar hand reached over, dry and warm, carefully covering his eyes.
Liang Xiao gradually relaxed and sank back into his dreams.
When he was first brought home by young Huo Lan, he still couldn’t settle down.
The books were too difficult to memorize. Little Liang Xiao leaned by the window looking at the scenery outside, folding paper airplanes and idly wanting to throw them down, but was meticulously stopped by young Huo Lan, who said it would pollute the environment and damage the greenery.
Little Liang Xiao really wanted to play, drifting restlessly around the room until the person doing homework at the desk couldn’t take it anymore and put down his pen to stand up.
Afraid he might throw him out the window, Little Liang Xiao prepared for the worst, grabbing the curtain and wrapping it around himself.
The young Huo Lan wore glasses and was far from having the cold aura he has now. With pressed lips, he looked serious and exasperated as he untangled him from the curtain, asking what he was up to now.
Little Liang Xiao trembled, asking if he was planning to rob and murder him.
Quick-tongued, Little Liang Xiao inadvertently admitted he had no money, only his life. Realizing his slip, he tried to take it back, but found that Huo Lan wasn’t even listening to his nonsense.
It was still cold outside. Young Huo Lan put on his coat and was about to open the door.
Little Liang Xiao was frightened, thinking he was leaving. He jumped down, ran over to grab him, and hung his head pitifully as he apologized: “I won’t make trouble anymore…”
Young Huo Lan stumbled as he was pulled, paused in surprise, and reached out to pat his head.
…
That evening, young Huo Lan spent the whole night downstairs picking up his paper airplanes.
As the sky gradually darkened, the setting sun dyed the world orange-red.
The thin youth supported himself on his knees, breathing lightly, earnestly looking up at the direction where he threw the airplanes, running to chase them.
Liang Xiao’s eyes felt warm. He turned his face slightly, gently rubbing against the palm covering his eyes.
Huo Lan was never really strict with him.
He didn’t know what a home should be like, and young Huo Lan didn’t know how to make friends. Except for being uncompromising about his studies, Huo Lan would abandon his principles and cooperate with whatever he wanted if he persisted enough.
When he randomly moved furniture around the house, Huo Lan would help him carry it. When he wanted to add decorations, buying stickers and applying glue, Huo Lan would hold the stool for him, letting him paste bargain-bought double happiness characters on the windows.
When he suddenly wanted to go fishing, the security guard downstairs wouldn’t allow it. After making a fuss for two days, he himself forgot about it. But Huo Lan still did his best to buy a fish tank with koi, and then a four-and-a-half-meter fishing rod, knocking on his door at midnight, looking awkward as he carried it to the table.
Little Liang Xiao could see that Huo Lan wasn’t happy, but couldn’t think of any other way, so he could only try his best to involve him in his antics.
Both were adolescents, and no matter how composed and mature beyond their years, when led by a peer, they couldn’t help but want to play together.
Little Liang Xiao tried his best to lead him away from his duties, dragging young Huo Lan out to walk two kilometers for famous tofu pudding, to eat unhealthy snacks at night markets, to pick the lock to the rooftop, and to sit on the roof with dangling legs watching the sunset together.
Over the years, whenever Liang Xiao looked back, he felt that period was particularly happy.
So happy that even when life later became unbearable, closing his eyes and pretending to return to that time made it seem like he could carry on.
But such days seemed indeed too short and too few.
He didn’t even have time to properly say goodbye to Huo Lan. One unexpected event after another engulfed them. He could barely protect himself, yet he risked everything to protect Huo Lan. In the end, it seemed he succeeded, yet also seemed like he couldn’t protect anything.
Uncontrollably, Liang Xiao repeatedly recalled in his dreams what he had done when he left, what he had taken, what he had left behind.
What had he left for Huo Lan, what had he made Huo Lan face alone.
How Huo Lan had survived these years, when he couldn’t find him and was schemed against by the branch family, when his parents passed away, when there was no one he could trust and every step was like standing at the edge of an abyss.
Huo Lan said he was his “grass color in the heavenly street.”
Liang Xiao had never thought deeply about this phrase, but now he suddenly understood.
“Soft as butter falls the light rain on the heavenly street, grass color seems near from afar yet is absent up close.”
…Absent up close.
Huo Lan had known since that time, yet not only was he not angry, he even wanted to hug him.
Hot tears seeped from the corners of Liang Xiao’s eyes as his breathing grew heavy. He groped around, trying to find that young alpha he had left behind in Jiangnan.
President Huo sat by the hospital bed, leaning forward to embrace him completely, carefully kissing his temples to comfort him.
Liang Xiao couldn’t distinguish between dream and reality, breathing urgently as he searched for him: “Huo Lan…”
“I’m here,” President Huo gripped his hand tightly. “It’s alright, I’m here.”
Liang Xiao was afraid he wouldn’t forgive the young man left behind in Jiangnan years ago. Breathing so hard he almost coughed, he struggled to pull at him: “Don’t punish him, blame me, it was my fault, don’t punish him…”
President Huo’s throat felt hot as he held Liang Xiao tightly, lowering his head to bury it in his neck: “No.”
“It’s not your fault.”
President Huo, following what Liang Xiao had taught him, said hoarsely, reciting word by word: “Coincidences, fate plays tricks on people.”
Liang Xiao had been struggling intensely, but after hearing these words whispered by his ear twice, he trembled and calmed down for a few seconds, only for his chest to heave even more rapidly.
President Huo, worried about his discomfort, hurriedly embraced Liang Xiao and reached out to press the call button, but Liang Xiao struggled to firmly grasp his sleeve.
Liang Xiao’s throat moved, tears flowing down his tightly closed eyelids, as he choked out inaudible murmurs.
President Huo held him, pressing him against himself, enduring the pain as he held his breath to listen closely.
In his arms, Liang Xiao trembled, repeating hoarsely over and over: “I won’t make trouble anymore…”
President Huo’s chest hurt so much he could barely breathe as he closed his eyes.
In Jiangnan, little Liang Xiao liked to make him angry.
Every time he would make trouble and cause a fuss, but when he really angered him, he would hang his head pitifully and apologize, coaxing him back from the doorway in circles.
Young Huo Lan eventually developed a bit of a temper too, learning that when he was truly exasperated, he would put down his pen and grab his coat, pretending to leave.
Little Liang Xiao would always apologize decisively, never sincerely and never changing, never letting him leave, repeating this same phrase over and over.
“Go ahead and make trouble,” President Huo held him tightly, his voice choked. “Make trouble, I won’t leave, I won’t leave.”
President Huo didn’t know which time he was dreaming about, trying hard to remember, explaining hoarsely: “I was going out to buy things… whatever you want, I’ll go buy it for you, don’t be afraid, I’ll come back quickly-”
Liang Xiao, trapped between dream and reality, curled up against his chest and finally broke down: “I want to go home…”
President Huo’s mind buzzed, his heart aching so much it almost went numb.
Liang Xiao was about to bite his wrist again, but President Huo gently held him, pulling him to his neck.
After struggling for a while, Liang Xiao was firmly held in his arms with nowhere to bite, so he bit President Huo’s shoulder hard.
Liang Xiao trembled, his chest heaving violently, as the broken, choked sobs he could no longer suppress finally escaped from his throat.
President Huo closed his eyes, repeatedly stroking Liang Xiao’s back. After a while, he steadied his hand and carefully wiped away his tears.
“I miss it too,” President Huo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Home is still there.”
“Home is still there. I didn’t trust leaving it to them, so I brought everything back… it’s at the villa.”
President Huo didn’t know how much he could hear, but he whispered close to Liang Xiao’s ear: “After we finish filming, we’ll go back.”
“There’s a pond where I’ve had them raise fish, all for you to catch.”
President Huo continued: “You can fold as many paper airplanes as you want, it doesn’t harm the environment… they’re beautiful.”
President Huo closed his eyes, his voice hoarse: “That night I already thought they were beautiful, I just didn’t want to tell you because of my pride.”
“I really liked the food you took me to eat, liked the things you took me to do. When you played pranks, I wasn’t really angry, I just liked your mischief.”
President Huo could barely continue, his voice choked: “I-”
Liang Xiao was breathing so hard he almost choked. President Huo carefully patted him, letting Liang Xiao lean against his chest.
President Huo lowered his head to kiss him: “I’ve missed you so much.”
Liang Xiao could no longer hold back, burying his face tightly against his shoulder and crying loudly.
–
After crying unrestrainedly, Liang Xiao finally escaped the entanglement of nightmares that had plagued him for years, gradually calming down in President Huo’s embrace.
The fever wasn’t difficult to reduce, but Liang Xiao had been accumulating worries in his heart these days, building up with nowhere to release. Finally finding an outlet, they erupted all at once, causing him particular discomfort in their intensity.
President Huo stayed firmly by his side, applying cold compresses, feeding him water and medicine. By early morning, Liang Xiao’s high fever finally began to gradually subside.
“It’s not a major issue. Once the fever drops to 38.5°C, no more medication is needed.”
The doctor examined him carefully and sighed with relief: “Let the fever reduce gradually, mainly using physical cooling methods, and have him drink plenty of water.”
The butler stood nearby, helping to ask follow-up questions: “Will he be uncomfortable?”
“Some discomfort is inevitable.”
The doctor nodded: “When the fever is high, the body’s sensations aren’t as clear. It’s actually during the cooling process that one feels more uncomfortable, especially around 38°C, when physical discomfort can be more severe.”
The doctor thought for a moment and gave a general explanation: “There might be headaches, body aches, weakness, chills, and some people experience gastrointestinal symptoms, not wanting to eat.”
The butler was worried: “Should we give him some medicine?”
“That’s not necessary,” the doctor smiled. “This is the body’s natural protective mechanism. The main thing is family companionship and humanistic care.”
The butler was somewhat relieved, thanked the doctor, and politely escorted him out of the hospital room.
President Huo sat by the bed.
From last night until now, except for changing the towels during cold compresses, he had hardly left the bedside, his gaze constantly on the deeply sleeping Mr. Liang.
The butler, afraid he wasn’t paying attention, brought breakfast sent by the assistant: “President Huo… the doctor said Mr. Liang will be fine.”
President Huo had no appetite: “Not needed.”
The butler didn’t argue with him, nodded, and placed the food container aside: “The doctor said no more medication is needed once it reaches 38.5°C, but Mr. Liang might feel uncomfortable.”
President Huo frowned slightly and looked up at him.
“It’s a natural bodily response,” the butler repeated like a practiced recording. “The main thing is family companionship and humanistic care.”
President Huo’s mind was entirely on Liang Xiao, gently massaging the bruise from the IV on Liang Xiao’s hand, and he could hardly follow this overly convoluted expression: “…What?”
The butler spoke straightforwardly: “It means you should cherish and comfort Mr. Liang more.”
President Huo: “…”
The butler: “…”
Mr. Liang couldn’t hold back and coughed once with his eyes still closed.
The butler was startled and was about to check, but President Huo had already embraced Liang Xiao’s shoulders, asking softly: “Are you awake?”
Liang Xiao had actually been awake for a while, but he was too embarrassed about biting President Huo’s shoulder and sobbing loudly. He hadn’t figured out how to face this new reality yet, so he hadn’t dared to move.
Liang Xiao felt a bit embarrassed and carefully peeked through slightly opened eyelids: “Mm.”
President Huo’s gaze finally brightened slightly. He felt Liang Xiao’s forehead and helped him sit up.
The hospital room was quiet. The butler had naturally disappeared from the scene, thoughtfully closing the door behind him.
Liang Xiao opened his mouth, his already burning hot ears becoming imperceptibly hotter, and coughed lightly: “I-”
President Huo quietly waited for him to speak.
Liang Xiao looked at President Huo, carefully confirming: “Fat sheep?”
President Huo: “…”
President Huo wanted to make him happy, closed his eyes briefly, and tried his best to press his lips together in a slight smile: “Mm.”
Liang Xiao was perceptive and looked at him with concern, reaching for President Huo’s hand: “Are you not happy?”
President Huo really couldn’t bring himself to be happy about this nickname. After a moment of silence, he held that hand in return and shook his head: “No.”
President Huo did his best to subtly change the subject: “After you left-”
Liang Xiao: “I went to help you chase your dream in the entertainment industry.”
President Huo paused, looking up at him.
“I’m professionally trained, I did really well in the exams.”
Liang Xiao was actually quite satisfied and had been wanting to show off to him: “Higher than half of 600 points, more than half of our class wasn’t as good as me. The next year I even led a pre-exam sprint class for cultural courses.”
President Huo gazed at him for a while, warmth gradually spreading in his eyes. He nodded and listened quietly.
“Using your iron-fisted methods, the results were excellent.”
Liang Xiao still remembered his glory days: “There was widespread misery. Every day we had to lock the doors with padlocks, otherwise everyone would have run away.”
President Huo couldn’t hold back and laughed softly.
Liang Xiao liked seeing him laugh and grinned in response: “Really… I’m not lying to you.”
Liang Xiao looked at President Huo, his gaze serious: “You’ve only heard about my hardships, but there were happy times too. I want to tell you about them.”
President Huo held his hand and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his lips: “Mm.”
Liang Xiao’s fever made it impossible to tell if he was blushing. Feeling dizzy from the kiss, he found the yogurt by the bed, opened it, and held up the cap to President Huo: “Look.”
President Huo was slightly puzzled: “What?”
Liang Xiao grinned: “One more time.”
President Huo’s voice was slightly hoarse. Looking at the yogurt cap with nothing written on it, he took it, put it back, tightened it, and embraced Liang Xiao, carefully kissing the other corner of his lips.
The manager hurriedly walked to the door, vaguely saw two blurry figures inside, stopped just in time, turned around, and tiptoed away.
…
Liang Xiao, already weak from the fever, was easily reduced to a small bundle by the kisses, rolling back into President Huo’s arms, breathing in small gasps.
President Huo felt his forehead, changed to a fresh towel that was prepared, sat back at the head of the bed, and held Liang Xiao against himself.
Liang Xiao couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in comfort, nuzzling against President Huo’s neck: “What about you?”
President Huo looked down: “What?”
“After I… left.”
Liang Xiao asked vaguely: “What did you do?”
President Huo tried to think and chose the happiest thing to tell him: “I moved our room… back home.”
Liang Xiao: “??”
President Huo guessed he probably hadn’t heard when he was sleeping and, after a moment of silence, continued: “It’s in the villa.”
The butler had said that when two people care deeply for each other, such treasuring of past memories after many years could make Mr. Liang happy.
President Huo tried his best to tell him softly: “I’ve kept it hidden, not letting anyone else in.”
Liang Xiao: “…”
Liang Xiao pressed his forehead and took a breath: “So that’s… the room that 327 keys couldn’t open.”
President Huo nodded slightly.
Liang Xiao: “Inside is the room we lived in back then…”
President Huo nodded.
Liang Xiao murmured: “…with everything in it.”
“I took it all.”
President Huo’s shoulders tensed slightly as he said softly: “I didn’t leave anything for them.”
Liang Xiao inwardly wailed that he hadn’t left anything for him either, but seeing President Huo’s sincere expression with lowered eyes, he swallowed his frustration: “Well… done.”
President Huo was unusually sensitive, frowning slightly: “Are you not happy?”
“I’m too happy,” Liang Xiao said weakly. “Why didn’t you change the lock too…”
President Huo said softly: “You taught me that locking the door is useless when resisting.”
Liang Xiao gave his younger self a mental headbutt.
“You have to lure them in, let them think they’ve easily opened the door, but actually they get nothing.”
President Huo: “When I took over Huo Corporation, I knew nothing. This was the first thing I learned.”
Liang Xiao held back for a while, his heart gradually softening. He leaned up to kiss the side of President Huo’s neck: “That works too.”
Sacrificing himself probably also trapped quite a few bastards who dared to covet young Huo Lan back then.
Liang Xiao thought it was worth it and felt a bit happier. He held President Huo’s hand and shifted in his arms: “When we go back, take me to see it, okay?”
President Huo said softly: “It’s all yours.”
Liang Xiao’s eyes treacherously heated up. He coughed once and continued to take advantage of the situation: “I also want to renovate the master bedroom… the bed is too far from the desk, it’s inconvenient.”
President Huo nodded: “Okay.”
Liang Xiao quickly slipped in another request: “And I don’t want to copy scripts…”
President Huo: “…”
Liang Xiao remembered the doctor’s instructions at the bedside and suddenly felt unwell, sliding weakly down his arm: “My head hurts.”
President Huo pressed his lips together, about to speak, but seeing Liang Xiao close his eyes silently while resting on him, his heart suddenly tightened: “Liang Xiao.”
Liang Xiao responded immediately, energetically promising: “Just during the fever.”
President Huo: “…”
President Huo was quiet for a moment, calming his rapid heartbeat. His gaze fell on Liang Xiao’s still hot, burning red ears, and he nodded: “Alright.”
“If you don’t want to copy, then don’t.” President Huo said, “I’ll read it to you.”
Liang Xiao’s nose tingled with emotion as he grinned.
When little Liang Xiao was driven crazy by copying textbooks and fiercely rebelled in the room, Huo Lan couldn’t console him and could only lift him down from the desk, switching to reading to him over and over again.
Though it was difficult, what he thoroughly memorized stayed in his mind.
Looking back now, Liang Xiao wasn’t sure where he would be today without young Huo Lan forcing him to study during that period.
When President Huo heard him fall silent, he became anxious again and lowered his head to touch Liang Xiao’s eyes: “Are you uncomfortable?”
“I can’t really tell,” Liang Xiao said. “Just tired.”
He often felt discomfort in various ways normally, and his current state wasn’t much different from usual, except he was particularly lacking in energy and still very much wanted to have a good sleep.
Liang Xiao didn’t want to sleep, still wanting to talk more with President Huo, keeping his eyelids open with effort: “Did you miss me after you went home? Every time I’m on stage facing the camera, I actually think of you, it’s just that recently I haven’t been shining much…”
“I missed you very much.” President Huo checked his forehead temperature, carefully placed Liang Xiao back on the bed, helped him lie down properly, and said softly, “I would also check the employment list of the pharmaceutical industry every time.”
Liang Xiao was confused: “Why would I go into pharmaceuticals?”
President Huo wasn’t very clear himself when he had told him about wanting to be an actor. After a moment of silence, he half-squatted down to hold his hand and said softly: “Fate plays tricks on people.”
Liang Xiao turned his head and smiled: “Fate is really annoying.”
President Huo stroked his hair, lifted the corner of his mouth slightly in response, closed his eyes, and nodded.
Liang Xiao was extremely drowsy. He fumbled to hold his hand as his eyelids gradually grew heavy.
…
Liang Xiao opened his eyes, frowned, and gripped President Huo’s suddenly racing pulse: “What’s wrong?”
President Huo stared at him intently, his throat moving, but said nothing.
Liang Xiao felt the cold sweat on his neck and vaguely guessed what was happening. He squeezed his hand firmly: “I’m fine now. Not every time I close my eyes means something bad will happen.”
President Huo knew this rationally, but his emotions were still difficult to calm: “I know.”
Liang Xiao had a sudden inspiration: “Huo Lan.”
President Huo looked up.
Liang Xiao coughed twice, wrapped President Huo’s sleeve around his finger, exhaled very convincingly, slowly closed his eyes, and went silent.
…
When the butler came to bring porridge for Mr. Liang, Liang Xiao was just conducting the seventeenth desensitization treatment for President Huo’s short-term stress response.
The butler opened the door and watched as Liang Xiao was talking to President Huo one second, and the next second he seemed unable to breathe, struggling to raise his hand to clutch his chest, opening his mouth without making a sound, and collapsing backward powerlessly.
The butler was terrified and rushed in, reaching the bedside to see their President Huo sitting calmly at the side, and stammered: “You-”
President Huo sighed lightly and skillfully repositioned the puddle of Mr. Liang who was pretending to be ill in his arms.
He leaned forward, embraced his shoulders, wrapped him in his arms, and performed a particularly thorough artificial respiration lasting half a minute.
The butler: “…”
##
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
