Chapter 17: Three Rules to Ask Me

"Do you miss me?"

Not sure if it was a matter of perspective, but Zhao Jichuan only felt that Han Rao's eyes were exceptionally bright, like snow reflecting light on the ground.

She was still wrapped in the long black down jacket she wore on set today. The loose clothing made her look a bit bulky, but also somewhat adorable.

He carefully examined her, even able to see the tiny transparent fuzz on her ears and the earlobes gradually warming up.

Han Rao saw that he didn’t answer and wasn’t upset.

She never expected him to answer. Even if he thought of her, he wouldn’t say it out loud. Besides, she believed he couldn’t possibly miss her, just as she hadn’t thought of him at all during the two months they hadn’t seen each other.

Han Rao tightened her grip around his waist a little more, her delicate eyes lowered, her long, curled lashes brushing against his chest.

"I miss you very much," she said.

Zhao Jichuan felt a ripple where her lashes had brushed, as if an electric current had passed through his entire body.

Then, the man suppressed this exquisite sensation and laughed self-mockingly.

He was nearly thirty, yet he still acted like a young boy, his emotions stirred by a half-true, half-false "I miss you."

Or was it that the woman before him was the one stirring his feelings?

Zhao Jichuan subconsciously refused to accept this idea, which made him look somewhat irritable.

Sometimes her little tricks worked well, and other times they just annoyed him.

Zhao Jichuan raised his hand and directly lifted Han Rao's chin. He was too lazy to waste words with her and pressed her hard against the door, kissing her fiercely.

He called her over, not to listen to her nonsense.

Han Rao had already gotten used to his mood swings, clutching his bathrobe and cautiously responding to his kiss.

She actively extended her tongue to tease him, only to have the root of her tongue ache from his stirring.

Zhao Jichuan regained the initiative, kissing her like a storm.

Their breathing shifted from calm to heavy, then back to calm.

When the man was about to end the kiss, he furrowed his brows in disbelief and looked down.

Han Rao slyly raised her hand and slipped it in; he was wearing so little, giving her the perfect opportunity.

The moment the woman's cold fingertips touched him, Zhao Jichuan felt an impulse to make love to her right there on the bed.

Han Rao had delicate features and a clear brow, the corners of her lips lifted in a smile like a little fox.

She held it tightly, gently rubbing it, and looked up at him with a playful smile.

Just by looking at her expression, no one would know what she was doing.

Han Rao felt that he was changing quickly; in just a few moments, it became somewhat difficult for her to hold on.

But she was unwilling to give up, persistently asking him amid the fluctuations, "Zhao Jichuan, do you miss me?"

The man's scalp tingled; he had always thought she was just a little fox, but today he realized that after two months apart, the little fox had become a spirit.

"Or, do you want to f**k me?"

she deliberately emphasized the word.

Han Rao actually didn't like using foul language. She did have a bad temper, but at most, she would only add a "damn it"

when angry.

The last time she used that word with him was because he was relentlessly pressing her about her relationship with Xie Yaochen. She felt it was embarrassing for him to know, so she provocatively said it to taunt him.

But she found pleasure in dirty talk, a psychological stimulation and delight.

To the point that she fell in love with the feeling, becoming somewhat addicted.

She also knew that beneath his outwardly noble and self-controlled gentlemanly demeanor, he was just as vile as she was at heart.

Han Rao never thought of herself as a good girl or a obedient daughter; she had simply suppressed her true nature for the first ten years to keep Xu Lianqiu happy.

But once she entered university and left Suzhou, it was like Pandora’s box had been opened—she became wild and unrestrained.

She remembered that when she first met Li Mengyang, it was actually on the way to a Livehouse with classmates.

At that moment, Li Mengyang was immediately drawn to her looks and asked if she wanted to act in a movie. Strangely, her classmates warned her not to be fooled, but Han Rao never once thought Li Mengyang was a con artist. Or perhaps, she was feeling lucky like a gambler, and after learning more, she signed the contract right away.

Because of her madness, she got her first role in this lifetime.

At this very moment, she was mad for Zhao Jichuan, mad for herself.

Han Rao looked at him with her watery eyes, the smile on her face unchanged, her brows still curved gently, but the movements of her hands never ceased for a moment.

Zhao Jichuan let out a pleased muffled laugh, just that one sound, then was forcibly suppressed again, his face darkening, maintaining an unyielding and aloof demeanor.

Han Rao felt that her own fetish was somewhat strange. For example, at this moment, the more Zhao Jichuan pretended to be calm, his face expressionless, the more she wanted to see him lost in desire.

Then, the woman's movements grew heavier, even somewhat erratic.

Not knowing how many times she had fumbled, while Han Rao was still pondering a strategy, she suddenly felt her body lift into the air.

Zhao Jichuan lifted her horizontally and threw her onto the bed.

The man, as if performing a slow dismemberment, methodically took off her down jacket, the wine-red sweater, and her underwear.

He made her kneel on the bed, stood in front of her, grabbed her hand and covered it, "Get it out."

Han Rao just felt a tingling on her scalp—how could he issue such a sensual command in such an abstinent tone?

Han Rao raised an eyebrow, "Then say something like you miss me."

Zhao Jichuan's eyes were deep and dark; he truly felt she needed to be taught a lesson, the kind that would shake the house if left unpunished for three days.

Then the man clasped her waist and leaned down.

Han Rao let out a muffled groan, feeling unbearably swollen.

She lay in bed, thinking that she had really overstepped this time; it seemed his bottom line truly couldn't be tested lightly.

Han Rao clenched her fists, carefully thinking amidst the rising and falling emotions. Is it really that hard to say "I miss you"

?

It's just a figure of speech, why take it seriously?

She furrowed her brows; at this frequency, it seemed he was still angry?

Han Rao couldn't understand it, so she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment of pleasure. After all, in this position today, she didn't have to exert any effort; she just had to wait for him to serve her.

The room was filled with a sultry atmosphere, the temperature gradually rising, and Han Rao felt as if her entire being was boiling over.

Zhao Jichuan was acting unusually today, constantly making her say the words "please."

In the end, she wished she could both bite him and shout at the top of her lungs.

She thought, maybe shouting twice on the set made him addicted to hearing her voice.

At the end, Han Rao wrapped herself in a bathrobe, stood up, and walked barefoot to the window, pulling the curtains open with a swift motion.

Light streamed in, and outside, snow had begun to fall again at some unknown time, the sky growing even more overcast.

Zhao Jichuan looked at her graceful figure, raised his hand to reach for a cigarette, took one and held it in his mouth, fiddling with the lighter to ignite it.

The smoke thickened, and the woman's figure gradually became somewhat blurred.

He squinted, fiddling with the lighter in his hand. In the silent room, only the sound of a "click"

could be heard.

Han Rao was drawn by the sound, withdrew her gaze, and turned to walk to the bedside.

She bent down and casually took one of his cigarettes.

Zhao Jichuan understood and raised his hand to hand her the golden lighter.

Han Rao didn't take it; she held the cigarette in her mouth, bent down, and leaned close to her, her jet-black long hair cascading down.

She carefully held the cigarette between her index and middle fingers, and when it touched his, the crimson glow spread from his to hers.

Han Rao stood up contentedly; she had envisioned this scene the very first time they were together.

She took a light drag of the cigarette, the smell of nicotine instantly numbing her nerves, leaving her feeling refreshed and relaxed.

Zhao Jichuan looked up at her, unable to express just how alluring her gesture was.

The two looked at each other without a word, tacitly finishing the cigarette after the event.

It wasn't until Han Rao crushed the cigarette butt in the ashtray that Zhao Jichuan spoke.

"I've never seen you smoke before."

Han Rao: "Not smoking doesn't mean I won't."

She looked at him, smiling brightly, and said, "Hasn't President Zhao seen the movies I've acted in? The characters in them smoke, and I was filming on location at the time."

She started smoking because she learned it while acting in this movie.

Zhao Jichuan was at a loss for words; he really hadn't seen any of her movies, nor was he interested in watching them.

A youth pain literature that only praises love; he doesn't even understand the people who watch this kind of film.

He looked at her.

Of course, he also didn't understand the people who made these kinds of films.

But he was still somewhat respectful.

Han Rao guessed he hadn’t seen it and clicked her tongue twice to herself, jokingly saying, “That’s a shame, you missed a rising star in the entertainment industry.”

Zhao Jichuan wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his embrace, and pinched her nose.

"Isn't this rising new star right here in my arms at this very moment?"

When he said this, he actually had no ill intent; he was just going along with her words, playing along.

But Han Rao still paused for a moment.

She lowered her eyes, thinking that the implication of his words was that no matter how capable she was, she still had to rely on him. To put it bluntly, no matter how popular she was, it was because she slept with him.

Her expression changed for just a moment before she returned to that carefree, lazy demeanor.

She told herself not to be so fragile; one can't have it both ways—wanting to stay innocent while also wanting resources. There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world

Han Rao cupped his face and kissed him once.

"Alright, it’s fine if you haven’t seen it. I don’t care about that movie ticket of yours anyway."

Zhao Jichuan was amused by her, raising his hand to gently pinch her earlobe.

He only just remembered at this moment that after they were done, they could actually linger like this, calmly leaning against each other, smoking and chatting.

In the past, after it was over, she wished to be as far away from him as possible; such afterplay was absolutely nonexistent between the two.

He thought, perhaps it had truly been too long since they last met; distance creates beauty, and people become much gentler with each other.

Han Rao actually thought it was quite good for adults to maintain a relationship similar to theirs.

Even if the last argument was unpleasant, the next time they meet, both can tacitly avoid mentioning past grievances.

In a relationship, when there's a conflict, one person has to be the first to back down for reconciliation to happen. Yet, the conflict itself isn't truly resolved; it’s like a dormant volcano that could erupt again any day.

Thinking of this, she laughed out loud.

Zhao Jichuan didn’t ask why she was smiling; instead, he took her hand and asked why she didn’t have an assistant.

He was rare in that he always remembered this matter.

Han Rao looked at him in astonishment, "I'm not some big-name celebrity, I don't need an assistant."

She had never had an assistant before; at her busiest times, she would just spend money to hire someone for three to five days.

There are quite a few people in the industry who specialize in this kind of assistant work.

Zhao Jichuan lowered his head and kissed her hand, "You still need someone, otherwise when you get sick and have a fever, no one will take care of you."

What he said was true; Han Rao had also fallen ill on set before, relying entirely on herself to endure and hold on.

The man said, "Tomorrow I'll have Sun Hao find you an assistant, alright?"

Han Rao looked at him and shook her head, "Forget it."

How could he dare to use his people?

Isn't this equivalent to having a spy by her side, reporting everything to him? Then what freedom would she have left?

She wasn’t stupid; she would rather exhaust herself than accept his "kindness."

Zhao Jichuan seemed to glimpse her thoughts and helplessly lifted her chin, "Han Rao, am I really that despicable in your heart?"

Did she really think he was just bored? She was merely a seasoning in his life, not the main course. Would he really go out of his way to have someone watch her?

Simply a fairy tale from One Thousand and One Nights.

He wanted to tell her to watch fewer of those mindless dramas, so she wouldn't turn her brain to mush. Otherwise, having just a good-looking face would only make her more easily deceived.

Han Rao remained silent.

Zhao Jichuan compromised, "Then have your agent find it for you. As long as you're satisfied, I won't interfere."

He didn't even realize that no matter how angry he was at her for having a problem with her mind, he never gave up on the idea of finding her an assistant.

She was probably just too pitiful on the set.

Han Rao was somewhat shocked by his words. She pressed her lips together and nestled into his embrace, saying, "Okay."

Han Rao felt his vigorous heartbeat and suddenly thought that today might be a good opportunity to try talking to him about some things.

"Zhao Jichuan."

Zhao Jichuan’s hand tangled in her silky hair.

“Speak.”

Han Rao closed her mouth, unsure of how to say it.

“If you’re not going to say anything, forget it. I’m going to take a shower.”

He picked her up and was about to get out of bed.

Han Rao quickly pushed him back, her hand pressing against his chest, "I'm speaking."

Zhao Jichuan raised an eyebrow.

Han Rao kissed his chin, "Can you please not interfere with my work?"

"Interfere?"

Zhao Jichuan frowned.

Han Rao immediately corrected, "It’s just that…"

She thought for a long time but couldn't come up with a more suitable word.

Zhao Jichuan saw the conflicted look on her face and gestured for her to continue.

“For example, the way you acted on set today—I don’t want that to happen again. You might think it’s no big deal, but it means a lot to me. I want you to respect me, respect my work.”

Zhao Jichuan ran his hand through her hair. He actually felt his behavior today was pretty childish, making it seem like some secret affair, something that couldn’t be openly acknowledged.

But at the time, he hadn’t thought much of it; it was just his bad nature acting up. The more she pretended not to know him in public, the more he wanted to push her.

Han Rao saw that he remained silent and continued, "If you have needs in that area in the future, contact me. I'll try my best to appear before you. But you also know the nature of my work; sometimes I really can't get away. I hope you can understand and do your best not to affect my normal work."

The implication was clear: when she was filming, if she was free, he shouldn't come looking to bother her.

On this point, Zhao Jichuan was actually somewhat dissatisfied.

But he said nothing; he just wanted to hear how many thoughts she really had.

Han Rao saw that he didn’t object, and she gained confidence, “Our relationship is not honorable; it affects your image and damages my reputation. You don’t want people to know, and neither do I. So in front of others, let’s pretend we don’t know each other.”

This was actually one of the main reasons she said this tonight.

Zhao Jichuan looked her small face over and let out a light snort, "Why do you think it would affect my image?"

She was too arrogant.

Han Rao lowered her eyes. What she said was indeed presumptuous, but she didn’t give up and continued, "Your father and mother, your family, surely wouldn’t want to know you’re entangled with someone like me."

Zhao Jichuan had to admit, she was somewhat skilled at poking right where it hurt him.

Actually, it wasn’t just his family or his elders; even he himself couldn’t accept any entanglement with Han Rao beyond the physical.

So at the beginning, he used the word "follow,"

implying something unspoken that both he and she understood.

Zhao Jichuan clenched his molars and suddenly grabbed her chin, warning her, "Han Rao, you’d better not entertain any wild fantasies."

Zhao Jichuan stared deeply into her eyes.

Many foolish women have had the idea of trying to advance by using their charm.

Han Rao was too smart, so he warned her not to have any crooked thoughts, not to try to take what never belonged to her in the first place.

Han Rao suddenly laughed; Zhao Jichuan was still too sensitive about his own future, and he really overestimated her.

She, Han Rao, was indeed an ambitious person, but only when it came to her career.

As for feelings, she thought her relationship with Xie Yaochen was quite a failure. She no longer wanted to believe in love, nor did she want to waste time and energy on such trivial romantic entanglements.

"Love can fill your stomach,"

she felt, was probably something only minors would say.

In this regard, she was actually in complete agreement with Zhao Jichuan.

It's just a pity that he was biased against her, thinking that someone like her still harbored ambitions of climbing up to become a phoenix. So, he wanted to cut it off early to avoid bringing trouble upon himself.

Han Rao smiled and raised her hand, making three rules with him, "How about I swear to you? I really have no other intentions."

"I swear, I will not fall in love with you, will not dream of marrying you, will not think of having your child. Just as you will not fall in love with me, will not have the idea of marrying me, will not let me carry your child."

She spoke with such honesty; Zhao Jichuan had never felt she was so open before, without a trace of pretense.

Her attitude, on the contrary, made him somewhat irritated.

Zhao Jichuan reached up and found another cigarette; Han Rao took the lighter and with a "click"

helped him light it.

She smiled and looked at him, "You don't believe me?"

She sighed, "Or should I draw up a written agreement for you? But when it comes to matters like this, I'm not really sure if it can have any legal effect."

She seemed a bit troubled, "Anyway, I think it's good to clear things up with you today. I just want to say that I’m very sensible."

At the very beginning, his demands of her were simply to be "sensible"

and "obedient."

She remembered, and even promised him.

Zhao Jichuan blew smoke rings, his eyes dark and unclear as he looked at her. What she said was indeed what he loved to hear, what he wanted to hear.

But when these words came from her mouth, they only added to his irritation. Although he didn’t know where this feeling came from, it was probably because she talked too much.

Zhao Jichuan stubbed out his cigarette and rubbed her earlobe.

But he also vaguely felt that her being too sensible was a problem.

The man clamped her arm and lifted her off himself, then got up to take a shower.

Han Rao asked with a bright smile if she needed any help.

He didn’t want to hear her speak anymore; it sounded grating to him, so he left her with only his back.

Han Rao wasn’t angry either; she went out to get her roasted sweet potato. It had been too long, and the sweet potato was already completely cold, so she had to call the front desk to ask if there was a microwave to warm it up.

After the roasted sweet potatoes were hot and ready, Han Rao sat on the sofa, taking small bites, thinking that by the time she finished eating, it would be just right for her to take a shower.

After taking a shower, she could just pat her butt and leave, going back to continue memorizing tomorrow's lines.

The snow outside the window was falling heavier and heavier.

Thinking about how well she had talked with him today, Han Rao couldn't help but hum Jay Chou's "Lanting Xu."

"Unrelated to romance, I write the preface waiting for your return. A suspended pen, a masterpiece, like the waves piling up on the shore. How to explain the word 'love,' no matter how I write, it never feels right. And I alone lack your lifetime of understanding…"

When Zhao Jichuan was taking a shower, the bathroom was filled with a haze, and Han Rao's particularly rational words echoed in his ears from time to time.

Suddenly, through the pattering sound of rain, he faintly heard Han Rao humming outside, her song revealing a joyful mood.

It seemed that after reaching an agreement with him, she was truly happy, even boldly singing aloud all by herself.

Zhao Jichuan listened to the intermittent singing and raised his hand to turn off the water.

She was so heartless; he really wanted to strangle her.