Chapter 21 Fever “Are you afraid I’ll die on you?”

Han Rao clearly felt that the winter in Beicheng was different from Suzhou. The winter in Suzhou was damp and cold, a chilling, penetrating cold. But the winter in Beicheng was dry and cold, especially when the wind blew, it felt like knives scraping against the face.

Han Rao closed the passenger door, and as she turned around, the wind suddenly slammed into her face, like two unexpected slaps.

She immediately snapped back to reality, moved around to sit in the driver’s seat, and the moment her hand touched the handbrake, she cursed herself viciously in her mind:

Stop your damn wild imagination!

You actually want to fall in love with Zhao Jichuan? What the hell is that but being a whore who still wants to put on a facade?

From the very beginning, she kept her identity very low. She forced herself to stay clear-headed, telling herself that the reason she had come this far was simple: to seize the resource that was Zhao Jichuan, desperately clinging to him and climbing step by step.

At that time, many people might have thought her idea improper, her behavior disgraceful—relying on selling her body to gain resources. They saw her as an unindependent woman who deserved society’s condemnation and scorn.

But Han Rao didn’t see it that way. The resources in this society inherently belonged to a small group of people in high positions. From the start, the social system never offered equal resources between men and women; most resources tilted toward men and were controlled by them.

As a woman blacklisted by her former company and banned by the Lin family, no matter how hard she worked, she could never turn her life around on her own. The outcome was obvious: no roles to act in, and the dramas she painstakingly filmed never aired.

She had to save herself, let go of her pride, and use the advantage of being a woman to obtain resources from men, to seize a chance for a comeback. Only by doing this could she break free from the vicious cycle and truly rely on herself in the future.

After meeting Zhao Jichuan, Han Rao lay in bed countless times repeating these words, planning her career path.

But on this path, the words “love and affection” must be completely removed.

They had already made it very clear the last time they set their three rules: if Zhao Jichuan found out tonight that she had started to fall in love with him, he would probably scold her for being immature tomorrow and then wave his hand to kick her out.

She couldn’t upset him; she couldn’t let sentimental feelings ruin her career.

A cold glint flashed in Han Rao’s eyes as she silently cheered herself on.

He and she were just playing a part, nothing more.

Zhao Jichuan had drunk a few more glasses today because it was a private dinner party; all the guests were acquaintances, many of whom had grown up in the same compound as him, so he let his guard down and chose to indulge himself.

At this moment, he half-closed his eyes, sensing that the woman beside him was not herself, and raised his hand to pinch her cheek gently. “What are you thinking about?”

Han Rao turned her head slightly, her gaze instantly softening like a gentle breeze, warm and tender.

She held the steering wheel with her left hand, slowly released the handbrake with her right, and said with a playful smile, “Let me think about how to drive the car.”

Zhao Jichuan sobered up a bit from the alcohol, “Didn’t you say you have a driver’s license?”

Han Rao suddenly felt a bit guilty, pressing the accelerator as she backed the car out of the garage, “I do, but I haven’t driven for a while.”

“How long?”

Han Rao: “Two or three years, maybe three or four.”

For a moment, Zhao Jichuan wanted to throw her out right then and there. She had such a half-baked skill and yet dared to drive him on the road?

Her life wasn’t important, but his was precious beyond measure.

Zhao Jichuan wasn’t the overbearing CEO type from novels who, when emotional, would say something foolish like, “I trust you, I give you my life.” People like him prioritize personal safety above all else and avoid any risks. After all, without life, no amount of money matters.

For example, from the moment he was born, as the eldest son of the Zhao family and the future heir, the Zhao family never allowed him to engage in any high-risk activities like bungee jumping or skydiving.

Zhao Jichuan frowned, “Stop the car, call a driver.”

Han Rao sulked and lowered her head, reluctantly taking out her phone to call a driver. She had been quite confident originally; when she got her driver’s license, she passed the third test on the first try with a perfect score, far better than Han Ting, who had failed two or three times. Even Old Han, the seasoned driver, praised her talent.

It feels like someone just poured a bucket of cold water over my head.

It was probably during the evening rush hour; the designated driver called out repeatedly, but no one accepted the order.

Han Rao looked at him, and Zhao Jichuan did not back down at all. He took out his phone and touched it to her chest, asking her to call Wang Jie to pick them up.

Han Rao held his phone, calculating in her mind that Wang Jie drove over from home and then had to send them off—who knew how long that would take.

Maybe by then, all the alcohol in Zhao Jichuan’s body would have been metabolized.

She lightly bit her lip, threw his phone back to him, released the handbrake, shifted gears, and pressed the accelerator—all in one smooth, practiced motion.

By the time Zhao Jichuan reacted, the car had already left the garage.

“I trust my driving skills.” She didn’t turn to look at him, speaking to herself.

Zhao Jichuan looked at her tense little face, the jawline etched with seriousness, and suddenly burst out laughing.

At this very moment, she looked exactly like the way she did when she stopped his car back then.

He thought, this girl is wild, determined, and has her own opinions; she makes decisions swiftly—she’s the kind of person destined for great achievements.

“What if something happens to me?” he asked softly, clearly valuing his life.

Han Rao: “Trust me, I’m not stupid enough to risk my own life.”

Han Rao was bold yet meticulous. After all, it had been quite a while since she last drove a car. She deliberately kept her speed down, focusing all her attention on the road conditions, fully concentrated. Even when he occasionally spoke to her, she only responded with indifferent “uh-huhs” and “yeahs” to brush him off.

The car ride was quite long, and in the latter half, Zhao Jichuan felt completely exhausted. He had already been a bit under the weather these past two days, and after drinking some strong liquor, he actually leaned back, drowsy and on the verge of sleep.

He thought it would be nice to let her drive from now on; his life also needed some unknowns, some uncertainties, some excitement.

This was the first time in his twenty-nine years that Zhao Jichuan felt the charm of the unknown and the unpredictable.

In the past, he was good at controlling everything, seeing through everything, predicting everything. He wouldn’t allow his life or career to deviate even slightly from the predetermined path.

But today, he actually felt that going crazy together with Han Rao was not so bad.

In the middle of the night, an unreliable driver took him home—how was that any different from stepping onto the path of a desperado?

However, he was not uneasy; he trusted her, even though her driving skills were not trustworthy.

Zhao Jichuan dozed off in a daze, and when he woke up, the car was already approaching the residential complex.

He turned his head to the side, while the woman beside him remained tense, pressing her lips lightly together, her eyes staring straight ahead.

He stood there speaking without a care, then suddenly said to her, “No need to be so nervous.”

Han Rao wrinkled her nose, “I’m afraid if something really happens to you, even if I’m alive, I probably won’t be safe either.”

Zhao Jichuan gave a soft “hm,” agreeing with her, “If I die, no matter what, I’ll drag you down with me.”

Han Rao dared to glance at him; the man’s hand gently pressed against his temple.

She didn’t know how much sincerity there was in his words.

The car drove into the neighborhood, and Han Rao’s nerves gradually relaxed. She had indeed driven impulsively, and now thinking about the man sitting beside her, she felt a bit scared.

Fortunately, God blessed her, and she didn’t take him into any accident.

Han Rao drove straight to the garage, and as she reversed the car into the space, her heart suddenly tightened, her eyes fixed intently on the rearview mirror.

Zhao Jichuan pinched her earlobe, teasing her on purpose, “Your driving skills are pretty good. I should hire you as my driver for a high price.”

Han Rao gave him a scolding glance, indulgingly saying, “This is not the time for you to doubt me.”

“Mm, indeed, I was too cautious. How about I make it up to you with an apology?” He tucked the strand of hair that had fallen down behind her ear, his fingertips brushing her cheek, tickling.

He spoke gently after drinking, and even though Han Rao knew his words were deliberately flirtatious, she couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter in her heart.

Just like that, with a “bang,” the car crashed into the black Bentley beside it.

Fortunately, she was driving slowly, so their bodies only lightly fell against the back of the seat with the momentum. It didn’t hurt, and nothing serious happened.

But Han Rao was completely stunned this time; there was only one thought in her mind: she was finished, she had taken the wrong path.

Han Rao didn’t say anything, but she did pass the third subject with a perfect score on her first try. However, she took the second subject three times, failing either the side parking or the reverse parking.

Zhao Jichuan rubbed his shoulder, looked at the woman frozen in her seat, lifted her chin, and said helplessly, “Han Rao, you really can’t help but boast.”

Han Rao gave a bitter smile. “Are you okay?”

She unfastened her seatbelt, raised her hand to grab his, checking if he was hurt.

Zhao Jichuan smoothly wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting him from the driver’s seat onto himself. She straddled him, the space in the car cramped and tight, the two pressed closely together, their breaths intertwined.

Zhao Jichuan rubbed his nose against hers and asked, “What now? How are you going to make it up?”

Han Rao frowned, her voice weakening as she genuinely considered how much compensation would be needed. “This car should have insurance, right?”

“This car is newly purchased by me,” he said.

Han Rao pursued relentlessly: “The newly proposed one should also have insurance, right?”

Zhao Jichuan saw that she was stubborn, so he bit his lip and passed the smell of alcohol to her. “Then what about the car you hit? You can play tough with me, but you still have to compensate others, right?”

Han Rao wanted to cry but had no tears; her heart kept drifting. She thought that she had just finished filming a drama and earned some money, but before it was even warm, it was about to be spent. Yet, then she remembered the card Zhao Jichuan had given her.

He’s not a stingy person; there should be quite a bit of money in the card.

As Han Rao pondered, the man’s hand had already slipped inside her sweater.

Zhao Jichuan gently traced her little cherry with the plain ring on his finger. She shivered, grabbing his hand. She hadn’t expected that at a time like this, their joys and sorrows wouldn’t align—he was still thinking about that matter.

She grabbed his wrist through the sweater, trying to stop his bad behavior, “I’ll go down first to see how badly that car was damaged.”

She wasn’t the type to avoid problems; what she owed others, she would still have to pay.

Zhao Jichuan grabbed her waist to keep her from moving. He kissed the corner of her lips, his lips slightly cool. Without her noticing, he unzipped her jeans. “No need to look, I won’t let you pay for it.”

He was probably really drunk, saying some foolish and reckless things, “You like crashing cars, huh? Just pick whichever one you like and crash into it as you please.”

Han Rao belatedly realized that all these cars belonged to him!

Having money is fucking great, lining up a bunch of luxury cars in the garage, and depending on her mood, she could drive whichever one she wanted.

Her mind was still drifting, and she thought to herself, she really did hate the rich.

The next second, he was easily subdued by him in just a few moves, collapsing into his arms as if he had no bones.

Zhao Jichuan somehow pulled out a condom. Han Rao had been worried about this matter; she thought that if there was no condom, she absolutely wouldn’t do it. Since he had one, she half-heartedly went along with him.

She originally thought the afternoon had been crazy enough, but she didn’t expect the evening to be even more wild.

The space inside the car was really, really small. From the front passenger seat to the back seat, she knelt there, one leg suspended in midair. On the fogged-up car window, one handprint after another was left—messy, intricate, and enchanting.

The temperature inside the car kept rising, and Zhao Jichuan’s body heat was rising too—scorching, feverish. She had never felt this hot before, her mouth dry and parched.

Especially that spot, burning hot.

Han Rao was confused and her mind was no longer sharp; the little physics theory she had learned began to be misapplied.

She thought, maybe it was because the speed was too fast, causing friction and heat.

At the end, Zhao Jichuan, panting heavily, held her in his arms and gently comforted her.

He slipped his hand into her hair and said to her, “Do you still want to find a car to crash into for fun?”

Han Rao trembled as she curled up in his arms, sluggishly shaking her head. She said, “I can’t afford to pay for it.”

Zhao Jichuan seemed to disagree with her statement. He retorted, “How can I not afford to compensate? If you give yourself to me, wouldn’t that be perfect?”

“How long will the compensation last?” she asked with a bright smile, though a wave of irritation stirred in her heart.

“Three years, five years, ten years, or even twenty years?” she asked.

Zhao Jichuan heard her mention twenty years, and naturally said, “You might as well say you’ll owe me for a lifetime.”

Han Rao was momentarily stunned, suddenly feeling a bit cold. His body was warm, so she kept pressing against him, holding him in a daze, her nose constantly nuzzling his shoulder, acting utterly obedient.

His body temperature was very high, and his neck was slightly flushed; he probably hadn’t yet detached himself from desire.

She just took it as a joke and laughed it off as if it never happened.

A lifetime is too long; she can’t afford to pay for it, and he probably can’t either.

After a brief pause, Zhao Jichuan helped her fasten the clasp of her bra again.

This meant that the absurd incident of tonight was over.

Han Rao didn’t make a fuss and put her sweater back on over her head.

After they tidied up, the two got out of the car.

Han Rao originally wanted to go see what the car looked like after the crash, but Zhao Jichuan grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “Don’t worry about it, someone will handle it tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

The two of them came out of the garage, and Han Rao looked up—the sky was actually starting to clear, and the moon had appeared.

Back home, Han Rao was eager to take a shower. She was covered in sweat just now, sticky and uncomfortable, and she felt very uneasy.

She opened her suitcase and rummaged through it for a long time, but surprisingly couldn’t find her pajamas.

She must have been too rushed packing yesterday and completely forgot about them.

Han Rao didn’t make a fuss; she casually asked Zhao Jichuan for a white shirt and then went into the bathroom.

After finishing her shower, she came out to find the house unusually quiet. While drying her hair, she knocked on the bedroom door.

“Zhao Jichuan.” She pushed open the door.

“Mm.”

Han Rao saw the man lazily leaning against the headboard, two buttons of his shirt undone, his watch tossed on the table. He looked exhausted, even somewhat sickly.

There was an unusual redness on his neck.

She thought he was still drunk, leaned closer, and asked, “Do you want me to make you some hangover soup?”

Zhao Jichuan naturally pulled her into his arms. She sat on his lap, the hem of her shirt rolled up, revealing her fair thigh. Her buttons were barely fastened, with glimpses of springtime light flickering inside.

He asked her, “Still trying to seduce me?”

“I’m not,” she replied.

She deliberately played coy, pretending to resist but not really.

Han Rao pressed against him and finally felt his body burning with heat.

She quickly raised her hand to touch his forehead. “Zhao Jichuan, you have a fever.”

“Mm.”

Han Rao frowned. “You knew?”

“I’m not stupid. How could I not feel it?”

“Have you taken any medicine then?” She looked around but saw no sign of any medicine.

“No.”

Han Rao: “…”

He was sick and hadn’t taken any medicine, yet he spoke so confidently. She really didn’t understand. If it were her, so careful about her health, she would rush to take medicine at the slightest illness.

She got down from his lap and asked if he had a first aid kit at home.

He said he was downstairs, so she hurried down to find him.

Han Rao opened the white medical kit, took out a thermometer and fever medicine, then went back upstairs.

As she slipped the thermometer under his armpit, she wondered why she had felt so hot during their time together, her face flushing suddenly.

Zhao Jichuan was really something else—sick and still unable to restrain himself.

Zhao Jichuan seemed to glimpse her thoughts and pinched her earlobe, “Afraid I’ll die on you?”

Han Rao choked a bit, picked up the medicine instructions, and checked the dosage, “I think you need to abstain.”

Zhao Jichuan sneered, “Not seeing each other even once a month, and you still want me to abstain? Only allowed to look, not touch?”

Is he blaming her?

Han Rao felt guilty and muttered, “Don’t you have someone else too?”

Zhao Jichuan was almost driven to spit blood in anger; he couldn’t catch his breath and coughed repeatedly.

Han Rao quickly patted his back. Once he calmed down, she pried open his palm and took out a fever reducer pill, placing it in his hand. “Wait here, I’ll go get you a glass of water.”

Han Rao went downstairs again to pour him a glass of warm water, then returned.

Zhao Jichuan accepted her care without hesitation, finished the medicine, and took out the thermometer.

Han Rao took a look—thirty-eight point six degrees.

She put away the thermometer, tucked the blanket around him again, and told him to take another pill if he still had a fever in the middle of the night.

Zhao Jichuan, however, acted as if he hadn’t heard and threw back the covers. He knew his own body well enough; he didn’t need her to teach him. He felt so hot right now that he should take a cold shower to physically cool down.

“What are you going for?” Han Rao asked.

Zhao Jichuan: “Taking a shower.”

Han Rao frowned, “You can’t wash it, you have to cover the sweat.”

“I’m covered in sweat all over right now, and it’s yours.”

Han Rao was left speechless by the retort. She originally didn’t want to bother with him, but thinking about how well he was tonight, her heart suddenly softened.

Women are just that easily soft-hearted.

Forget it, she decided to be more generous and not hold grudges against someone who was ill.

Han Rao grabbed his wrist, gently wrapped her arms around his waist, and looked up at him, saying, “Don’t wash just yet. Wait until the fever goes down, or it will get worse. If you really feel uncomfortable, I can help wipe you down with a towel.”

Sometimes she was truly kind, without any scheming or aggression, kind to the very core.

Zhao Jichuan looked into her sparkling eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering, and his heart melted completely. Hesitating, he unconsciously nodded gently.

Han Rao found a towel, soaked it in hot water, then wrung it out.

She lifted the quilt, first wiping his arm, then covered him back up with the quilt. Slowly moving down, when she wiped his abs, she couldn’t resist taking advantage of him a little, gently teasing twice. However, she was scared back by a look from Zhao Jichuan, so she reluctantly wiped his legs instead.

After finishing all this, a thin layer of sweat appeared on her forehead. She raised her hand to wipe it away, then lifted her eyes and met his gaze.

Zhao Jichuan’s eyes were deep and mysterious. Perhaps because he was ill, he seemed more fragile and not as stern and intimidating as usual.

Han Rao blinked, then suddenly leaned close to him and gently pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“So well-behaved.”

Zhao Jichuan watched her turn and leave, belatedly furrowing his brows; her words sounded like she was coaxing a child.

The water on his body was evaporating, and he only felt a chilling cold.

He raised an eyebrow; her method seemed pretty good.

Zhao Jichuan raised his hand to touch his forehead; that kiss felt like a feather brushing by, light and airy, lightly tugging at his heart without leaving any trace.

It was like a great dream, a fleeting illusion.

　　-

After taking care of Zhao Jichuan, Han Rao casually found a guest room to sleep in.

So much happened throughout the day that she was exhausted all over. The moment she touched the bed, drowsiness swept over her, and she drifted off into a hazy sleep.

Before falling asleep, she was still thinking, “Tonight, I must not have an episode, I must not suffer from insomnia again.”

As it turned out, she had overthought it.

She was sleeping very deeply, her breathing even heavier than usual, and she began to dream. In her dream, she was learning dance as a child, and the dance teacher scolded her for not dancing well, but she didn’t dare to go home and tell Xu Lianqiu.

Until a warm hand pressed against her body, Han Rao felt her body lighten, suddenly waking from the dream, abruptly opening her eyes, a flicker of panic flashing in them, then instantly vanishing like smoke.

Zhao Jichuan, dressed in pajamas, looked at her quietly.

Han Rao quickly sat up, her voice hoarse as she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Zhao Jichuan clasped her hand and pressed it against his forehead. Han Rao’s fingers curled slightly; she knew he had a fever again.

“Have you taken your medicine?”

“I forgot how many pills I took,” he said lazily.

Han Rao didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or lying. Could such a shrewd person really have been confused by the fire?

She stretched lazily, got up, and glanced at the time. Four hours had passed since she last took the medicine. She said cautiously, “Half a pill will do.”

She was afraid of giving him too much to eat.

Since Han Rao was already up anyway, she took his temperature again, poured him some water to take his medicine, and took the opportunity to wipe his body to help lower his fever.

After finishing all this, she planned to go back to the guest room to sleep a little more; she still had to fly to Suzhou tomorrow morning.

But Zhao Jichuan grabbed her wrist firmly, pulled her into his arms, and tenderly said, “Stay with me.”

Han Rao was momentarily stunned, recalling the last time they shared a bed at her place, which was particularly awkward. She felt uncomfortable all over and became apprehensive.

She had long since grown unaccustomed to sharing a bed with anyone, and even sleeping with Xu Lianqiu made her uncomfortable.

Han Rao looked back at him; the man’s hair was a bit messy, and he still looked very weak.

Suddenly, she felt a pang of compassion and nodded, leaning into his embrace.

The man’s strong arms encircled her, and Han Rao felt as if a stove was pressed against her back, burning hot.

Zhao Jichuan was very tired, utterly exhausted. After taking his medicine, sleepiness washed over him, and he drowsily leaned against Han Rao’s back. He raised his hand to touch her shoulder blades, silently marveling at how truly thin she was.

But tonight, she was gentle and flowing like water, slowly passing through his heart. Suddenly, he felt lonely, and a thought flashed through his mind—he really wanted to keep her with him.

So, he held her hand and said, “Han Rao, stay and spend the New Year with me.”