Liang Xiao saw through the red dust of the world, got up from President Huo’s embrace, and put on his clothes with complete detachment.
President Huo wanted to get up to help, but Liang Xiao pressed him back onto the bed without argument.
President Huo wasn’t prepared and was pushed down firmly. He instinctively raised his hands to hug Liang Xiao back, avoiding the edge of the bed, pulling him protectively closer.
Liang Xiao lay on his shoulder, half-worried and half-not, but couldn’t help laughing first.
Going to the temple, it wasn’t appropriate to be too unrestrained. Liang Xiao coughed, suppressed the warmth, and said indistinctly: “Wait… until I come back.”
Liang Xiao had slept in a daze last night but knew that President Huo hadn’t rested much. He firmly pressed him onto the bed, pulled the blanket to wrap him up: “Take a nap, then work when you wake up.”
After all this handling by Liang Xiao, and after being solidly slammed onto the bed on his back, President Huo was actually quite alert, but he still nodded according to Liang Xiao’s wishes and closed his eyes.
The curtains were drawn tightly, and the light through his eyelids was warm yet dim, making it almost impossible to tell the time.
Liang Xiao busied himself in the room for a while, tidied up the handy things for him, circled back to sit by the bed, and checked on President Huo’s sleep status.
President Huo was deliberately cooperating, lying quietly with his eyes closed, his breathing steady and motionless.
Liang Xiao had hidden a tender tea leaf from somewhere, held it in his hand, approached with bated breath, and flicked his eyelashes a couple of times.
President Huo: “…”
With his eyes closed, President Huo’s eyelashes appeared even deeper and thicker. Liang Xiao became addicted to the game and couldn’t resist going to fiddle with the other side.
President Huo really couldn’t bear it anymore, opened his eyes, and caught his hand.
Liang Xiao showed no awareness of being caught and instead accused him first, using his other hand to point at him with the leaf: “Pretending to sleep.”
President Huo could never out-argue him and somehow ended up being in the wrong again. After a moment of silence: “Resting… is also very useful.”
President Huo held Liang Xiao’s wrist, his palm against the bone, almost more able to sense how much weight Liang Xiao had lost these days.
President Huo didn’t want him to worry more about himself: “I’ll lie down for a full hour, don’t worry.”
Liang Xiao saw President Huo’s methodical demeanor emerge again, felt both headache and tenderness, and couldn’t bear to trouble him further. He bit President Huo’s lips: “Don’t move.”
President Huo was slightly taken aback.
Liang Xiao had brought a somewhat old watch box this time, guarded it closely, and wouldn’t let him open it to look. President Huo had strictly adhered to the rules and hadn’t touched it once.
President Huo didn’t move as instructed and watched as Liang Xiao brought over the box: “What is it?”
“I was originally planning to take it out to comfort you when you were in a mood.”
Liang Xiao smiled: “Giving it to you so easily… I’m at a loss.”
President Huo frowned: “I don’t get into moods.”
Liang Xiao thought to himself that he got into moods plenty, comfortingly patted the shoulder of President “Snowing” “Pufferfish” Huo, opened the box, and took out a cufflink.
President Huo supported himself on his arm to sit up, still wanting to explain about emotions to him, but as he saw what Liang Xiao was handing over, he paused, instinctively raising his hand to receive it in his palm.
The cufflink was particularly exquisite, with a silver metal border, designed as a concealed clasp that could be opened and closed. The material inside appeared particularly special.
Light cyan, like some kind of amber, with a transparent ice crystal sealed inside.
A fresh, cool rain scent came rushing forth. President Huo instinctively gripped the cufflink tightly and suddenly looked up.
“I asked Chi Che,” Liang Xiao smiled. “He said this way you can store a bit of pheromone… it closes with just a turn.”
Jiang Pingchao also had an amber pendant with a coriander leaf sealed inside. Fans had been trying to decipher the meaning of this pendant. Those who knew the inside story, although somewhat unable to look directly at it, still felt touched and envious of such affection.
Liang Xiao had specifically asked Chi Che about it. During an alpha’s susceptible period, besides using synthetic pheromones, there were actually other methods.
An omega’s pheromone source could be extracted and purified, condensed into an amber-like material that would slowly evaporate. However, it had to be extracted directly from the gland, which involved some discomfort.
His gland had largely healed. During a break from filming at the set, he had conspired with the butler, slipped away, and spent half a day on this.
If it weren’t for this… he might not have been limited to a mere ten minutes.
Liang Xiao couldn’t help but lament: “I’m really not that quick…”
President Huo looked at him for a while, then pulled Liang Xiao back into his arms.
Liang Xiao was still frustrated about the ten minutes when he was suddenly lifted up entirely. Startled, he instinctively hugged President Huo back: “You can be moved on your own first, I need to go out, we can’t mess around now-”
“…” President Huo: “I won’t mess around.”
Liang Xiao was half relieved and half regretful: “Oh.”
President Huo stroked Liang Xiao’s hair, his palm covering his gland: “Are you still uncomfortable?”
“I’ve been fine for a while,” Liang Xiao said. “I had a check-up last time, and my gland has recovered pretty well, just lacking in autonomy, with both stimulation and suppression being relatively weak.”
The injuries that had occurred time and again, which President Huo had strictly monitored during recovery, had healed quite well, but further recovery would require a slow and steady approach.
Liang Xiao, afraid he wouldn’t understand, specifically explained to their President Huo in detail: “It means either I don’t enter heat at all, or once I do, it’s not easy to come out without seven days and seven nights.”
President Huo, accustomed to being dignified, was somewhat at a loss by his words and turned his head to say softly: “Let’s not talk about this.”
Liang Xiao knew he wouldn’t mess around now, so he wanted to say a few more words: “Once this stage passes, there won’t be any problems at all, and I’ll be able to sneak into your office.”
“You should improve the soundproofing,” Liang Xiao became more excited as he thought about it. “Then, whenever the mood strikes, we can seize the moment, close the door, and mmph…”
President Huo really couldn’t bear it anymore. He lowered his head to kiss him, thoroughly silencing the omega who could only last ten minutes but still wanted to tease.
Liang Xiao was kissed into speechlessness, lying limply, content: “I thought you would be angry.”
President Huo carefully bundled Mr. Liang up, securing him in his arms: “Why would I be angry?”
“For doing this behind your back…” Liang Xiao said vaguely. “You’re afraid I’ll harm my body.”
Given President Huo’s consistent style, Liang Xiao was actually somewhat worried that their President Huo might make it snow again because he wasn’t taking care of his health, or might angrily return the gift without considering the circumstances.
Young Huo Lan would definitely have gotten angry about such a thing. Liang Xiao had even prepared a second plan: to stubbornly and steadfastly leave home in tears, adding a harmless little twist to their love story.
And then to be found by their President Huo, locked in a small dark room, or more seriously, tied up, pressed onto the bed in a storm…
President Huo noticed his glance toward the cufflink, frowned slightly, and clenched his fist behind his back.
Liang Xiao couldn’t help but laugh: “I won’t snatch it.”
Liang Xiao’s mind wandered as he hugged him and patted him lightly twice: “Such a pity.”
President Huo couldn’t follow his train of thought and wasn’t clear on how fast Mr. Liang’s mind had been racing. He shook his head and kissed Liang Xiao’s forehead: “You have your limits.”
The kiss that fell was too gentle. Liang Xiao woke from his dream of stormy snow and looked up to meet President Huo’s gaze.
“You know what I’m afraid of,” President Huo said. “You don’t care much about yourself, but for my sake, you would never let yourself get hurt for such a reason.”
Liang Xiao wasn’t used to such unexpected frankness. He opened his mouth, blushing slightly: “I’m not, not that noble…”
Liang Xiao couldn’t hold back, grinned, and hugged President Huo, burying his face in his neck. Just as he was about to express his feelings with tears in his eyes, he was suddenly lightly pressed on his back by their President Huo.
Liang Xiao couldn’t control his conditioned reflex and sat up straight on his lap: “…”
“For the rest, I will be responsible,” President Huo looked at him. “Your not caring about yourself needs to be corrected.”
Liang Xiao vaguely felt something was off: “This is what I told you before…”
President Huo had learned more than just this one line: “Otherwise, when we’re old in the future, if your health deteriorates, I’ll still have to carry you around, taking care of you attentively.”
Liang Xiao murmured: “Won’t you take care of me attentively?”
“…” President Huo: “I will.”
Liang Xiao: “Won’t you carry me around everywhere?”
Even now, when he was healthy and free of illness, their President Huo was already practically donating his legs to him.
President Huo: “…”
President Huo was left speechless by his rebuttal, instinctively feeling he must have overlooked something, and frowned deeply as he lowered his gaze in thought.
Liang Xiao took advantage and ran, jumping out of his arms, quickly pecking President Huo who was pondering in the depths of the logic alley, and nimbly left with his clothes.
–
The group went to Perching Stone Temple in a grand procession, with some appreciating the scenery and others looking at ancient relics. Liang Xiao found an opportunity, tricked the follow-up director into helping film Teacher Su catching crickets for Yu Zhi, and circled around to find the butler inside the temple.
The butler had been waiting for him for a while, his eyes brightening as he approached: “Mr. Liang…”
Liang Xiao nodded slightly and smiled: “Thank you for your trouble.”
The butler repeatedly said it was nothing, led him through a small door, and went to the Buddha hall specifically for worshippers.
The tablet had been placed for ten years. The eternal lamp had been replaced countless times and had become particularly old, with the lacquer color from those years having dimmed considerably.
Following the novice monk’s guidance, Liang Xiao solemnly paid his respects as a junior, offered incense, and quietly made several bows.
Before the Buddha, the green lamp was cold and peaceful.
The butler accompanied him, his heart filled with mixed emotions of gloom and sentiment. He quietly renewed the incense with the temple, and upon returning, was taken aback: “Mr. Liang, what did you pray for?”
Liang Xiao didn’t look up: “A shared fate charm.”
The butler was thoroughly startled and hurriedly tried to stop him: “No, no—I’m not joking with you, President Huo really dislikes this.”
The butler was older and believed in these things to some extent. He lowered his voice to explain to Liang Xiao: “It’s truly effective… people at the Huo residence have always said secretly that the master and mistress had a shared fate in life and death because of this, which is why they had the accident together…”
Liang Xiao looked at the small novice monk who was glaring at them, promptly took the two protective charms containing the charm papers, and pulled the butler out of the Buddha hall.
The butler anxiously stared at him.
“It’s alright,” Liang Xiao patiently explained to him. “The one who tied the bell must untie it.”
Liang Xiao had a complete grasp of President Huo’s character, clearer than anyone else: “He can’t get over this hurdle in his heart. It’s not about avoiding it or deceiving himself by finding something to cover it up and pretending the road is smooth.”
The butler couldn’t refute but was troubled: “Do you want us to pretend the master and mistress have returned?”
“…” Liang Xiao: “Huh?”
The butler had discussed with President Huo about Mr. Liang’s fear of ghosts and didn’t dare to explain clearly, hinting obscurely: “Pretend… the master and mistress received the incense offering and returned, telling President Huo they’re doing well and that they support you two being together…”
Liang Xiao was profoundly respectful: “No need.”
Liang Xiao came to offer this incense not just to fulfill President Huo’s wish.
Since the two of them were already considered a family, regardless of the circumstances, he naturally wanted to meet President Huo’s elders.
Moreover, Liang Xiao had always been confident in himself: “Besides, why wouldn’t Uncle and Aunt support us being together?”
The butler: “…”
Liang Xiao felt this statement was completely unnecessary. He carefully put away the two protective charms and left the temple with the butler: “Charms are meant to protect people. Whether they’re effective or not actually depends on whether wishes can be fulfilled.”
“Yes,” the butler was at a loss for words. “But President Huo—”
Liang Xiao understood: “President Huo heard too much from people at the Huo residence when he was young, was influenced to some extent, and somewhat believes in this.”
The butler regretted it deeply: “Yes.”
President Huo didn’t just somewhat believe in this; he would hand the notarized will to Mr. Liang while criticizing him for speaking too inauspiciously.
The butler, afraid of a repeat scenario, anxiously followed Liang Xiao: “Please talk to President Huo properly, try not to mention life and death, gods and ghosts…”
Liang Xiao was most confident about this and nodded: “Don’t worry.”
The butler was still worried and escorted him all the way back to the recording site.
The fireside chat was mostly the directing team’s special segment. Everyone sat in a circle in the old house’s drying area, with the moon bright and the breeze cool, gathered around a tea stove, listening to the screenwriter and director tell stories—a rare segment where nothing could go wrong.
Yin Chi was rarely at ease, directing the cameramen to peacefully film a round.
The producer had worked with these two people more than once and, with ears calloused from listening, pulled Meng Feibai aside to play cards.
Su Man hadn’t managed to catch crickets for Yu Zhi and was biting a blade of grass while teaching the omega girl how to weave cricket cages.
Jiang Pingchao, who rarely had the chance to spend more time with his manager, would look back to find Chi Che’s position after barely listening for five minutes.
…
“Harmonious,” Yin Chi sighed.
The deputy director nodded in agreement: “If only everyone could always be this harmonious.”
“…” The butler wasn’t very clear about what the program team had encountered before. He stayed away from the filming crew who were peacefully enjoying tea, lurked in the shadows watching the cameras for an entire evening, and finally returned with a heart full of worries.
“Alright, we’ll continue the rest tomorrow.”
The screenwriter, despite being carefully reminded three times by the follow-up director that filming had ended, unhurriedly finished the last story about seeking charms for protection and peace, smiling as he highly praised President Huo: “President Huo has a boundless future.”
President Huo humbly thanked him, supported Liang Xiao, who had taken two naps, to sit up slightly, and gently patted his back, wanting to wake him up.
Liang Xiao had been sleeping deeply. He barely lifted his eyelids to look once before yawning and collapsing onto his shoulder again.
President Huo was worried the screenwriter would misunderstand and reached out to support him: “He’s not—”
“He’s not deliberately falling asleep,” the screenwriter nodded with a smile. “He didn’t need to hear this story anyway.”
President Huo was slightly taken aback.
“What charm protects what person, what disaster requires what scripture.”
The screenwriter continued unhurriedly: “Only those with obsessions listen attentively to this.”
Liang Xiao had specifically asked the screenwriter at the temple. Pei Guang, faithful to his commission, smiled and asked President Huo: “What do you think the shared fate charm is for now?”
President Huo was taken aback: “Shared fate in life and death…”
Pei Guang waved his hand, patted his shoulder in a particularly profound manner, snatched a sausage from Director Song’s hand, and left in a flash.
The filming crew didn’t follow closely this time. Liang Xiao, half-asleep and half-awake, was swayingly led up the mountainside by President Huo. The camera followed to the door of the small cabin before knowingly going back down the mountain.
President Huo remembered his promise, held Liang Xiao, and shook him gently a couple of times. Seeing him open his drowsy eyes, he then raised his hand to carefully undress him.
Liang Xiao: “!!”
Liang Xiao’s sleepiness flew away by the dozens: “What part are we at?”
President Huo was taken aback: “What?”
Liang Xiao had specially written an outline for tonight with the screenwriter’s support. He lay on his arm to wake up a bit, suddenly became energetic, and excitedly wanted to run to the hot spring.
President Huo promptly pulled him back, meticulously prepared hot water, and readied glucose, drinks, and fruits to replenish energy.
The two might not return until very late. President Huo delayed a bit while selecting fruits, and by the time he circled to the hot spring bath, Liang Xiao was already comfortably sprawled at the edge of the pool.
President Huo put down the fruit platter and touched Liang Xiao’s forehead: “Are you dizzy?”
“I’m fine,” Liang Xiao was full of energy. “Shall we soak together?”
President Huo smiled: “No rush.”
He knew Liang Xiao had been looking forward to this day and night. He handed the chilled fruit platter to Liang Xiao, sat by the edge of the pool, let Liang Xiao rest his head on his shoulder, and slowly massaged his shoulders and back.
Liang Xiao both ached and felt comfortable, occasionally drawing in sharp breaths of cold air, once again subdued by their President Huo’s exceptional talent: “How did you learn this too…”
President Huo said softly: “You said the bathtub massage wasn’t comfortable.”
Liang Xiao had almost forgotten when he had said this. He looked up, stunned for a moment, before President Huo leaned down to catch him and turned him over in the water.
Liang Xiao: “…”
President Huo meticulously relieved his muscles and tendons. When he touched the bruises that hadn’t yet faded, his touch became gentler, his palm carrying warm water flow, gradually kneading away all the accumulated fatigue of these days.
Liang Xiao lay in his arms, closed his eyes, and pressed against President Huo’s chest.
President Huo lowered his head: “Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Liang Xiao smiled. “Help me get something.”
President Huo held him as he leaned back against the edge of the pool: “What?”
“That stone over there,” Liang Xiao spoke nonsense. “I had a dream where an old man with a white beard told me there’s something under the stone…”
President Huo looked at the stone, which had been specially marked with a downward arrow in fluorescent paint, as if afraid he wouldn’t see it: “…”
President Huo went over, lifted the stone, saw what was underneath, and frowned slightly.
“Huo Lan,” Liang Xiao called him.
President Huo didn’t like this kind of arrangement, but he wouldn’t refuse Liang Xiao’s wishes because of it. He took out the two brocade bags containing charm papers from inside and returned to the pool’s edge: “I’ll put them away.”
Liang Xiao lay at the edge of the hot spring, his eyes clear, reflected by the pool water and starlight: “Huo Lan.”
President Huo stopped his movement.
Liang Xiao: “Do you know what these are for?”
President Huo had already been asked this question once today. He couldn’t think of more answers, was silent for a while, and shook his head.
“The purpose of these things isn’t for a shared fate in life and death.”
Liang Xiao said: “I asked at the temple. They protect ‘shared life, shared grave.'”
President Huo looked up in a daze.
“A shared grave is something many years in the future, and that’s your responsibility—just build one for the two of us.”
Liang Xiao smiled at him: “We don’t need it to pray for dying on the same day… that’s not interesting.”
Liang Xiao: “We use it to pray… that as long as one person is alive, the other must also be alive.”
Liang Xiao: “To live well.”
President Huo’s breath suddenly caught as he stared intently at Liang Xiao.
“I’ve already prayed.”
Liang Xiao looked at him, his eyes curving, clear as the sky after rain: “Will you follow?”
His manner of speaking was particularly informal, yet his gaze was bright as if washed clean. His hair was wet, dripping water into the steaming hot spring.
Stirring a pool of moving stars.
President Huo looked at him for a while, tightly gripped the two shared fate charms, followed him, and held Liang Xiao’s outstretched hand.
##
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
