Chapter 26: The Kiss Mark After a Fight

Han Rao came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of porridge. She saw Zhao Jiyue still lying on the sofa with her head tilted back, mindlessly playing a match-three game.

Han Rao called her to get up for breakfast while scanning the surroundings for Zhao Jichuan’s figure. She asked Zhao Jiyue, “Where’s your brother?”

Zhao Jiyue gave Han Rao a suspicious glance. The more she looked at her, the more familiar she seemed, yet she couldn’t recall where she had seen her before no matter how hard she tried.

Zhao Jiyue didn’t answer Han Rao’s question but instead asked, “What’s your name? I really feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

Han Rao chuckled, hugging her arms, thinking her drunken state was quite adorable, and deliberately teased her: “Where have you seen me before? Tell me, and I’ll let you know.”

Zhao Jiyue pouted and unceremoniously picked up the bowl of eight-treasure porridge Han Rao had given her. “Fine, don’t tell me then. I’ll find out anyway.”

Zhao Jiyue had quite a temper—Han Rao thought she was like a spoiled princess. Yet she lacked backbone and never mistreated her stomach. Even while bickering with Han Rao, she still managed to praise her porridge as delicious.

Han Rao didn’t say anything more and went upstairs by herself to pack her things.

Her suitcase was almost packed this morning, with just some daily necessities left to put in. She folded her pajamas, sealed the bath towel and slippers in a ziplock bag, then stuffed them into the suitcase and stood it upright.

Han Rao glanced around the room, then smoothed out the quilt meticulously, leaving not a single wrinkle.

In an instant, Han Rao let out a self-mocking laugh.

She had stayed at Zhao Jichuan’s place for four consecutive nights, bringing all her daily necessities with her. Now that she was gone, everything had been packed up, and at a glance, it was as if she had never been there.

This feeling is quite intriguing, like staying in a hotel.

Han Rao shook her head again. Even hotels provide disposable slippers and toiletries, but Zhao Jichuan hadn’t prepared anything for her at all.

She felt a pang of sorrow, recalling Zhao Jichuan’s resolute “No.”

She truly wasn’t his girlfriend, nor did she aspire to be one. Yet when he stated it so matter-of-factly in that emotionless tone, why did it still leave her feeling somewhat unsettled?

Han Rao attributed all of this to her wretched pride acting up.

She simply felt utterly humiliated, nothing more than that.

Dragging her heavy suitcase downstairs with difficulty, Han Rao only realized upon reaching the ground floor that the siblings had started arguing again over who-knows-what.

Zhao Jichuan stood coldly by the fish tank without saying a word, while Zhao Jiyue also kept a stern face, deliberately clinking her spoon against the bowl to make noise.

A strong smell of gunpowder.

Han Rao shrugged her shoulders, instinctively feeling it wiser to quickly flee the scene.

Han Rao pulled her suitcase, its wheels emitting a “whirring” sound that shattered the silence of the cold war. Steeling herself, she dragged the suitcase toward the door, just about to tell Zhao Jichuan that she was leaving first when Zhao Jiyue interrupted.

The girl suddenly raised her voice, pushing the bowl aside, “Why can you all go but I can’t?”

Zhao Jichuan turned around, trying to reason with her as gently as possible, “You’re a girl.”

Zhao Jiyue paused, “What’s wrong with being a girl? Does the casino discriminate based on gender? Besides, I didn’t lose, and nothing happened to me.”

Seeing her speak so confidently, Zhao Jichuan’s expression darkened further. “You didn’t lose and nothing happened because people are wary of our family. Otherwise, if you weren’t a Zhao, try going out again tomorrow and see if anyone would still treat you so well, serving you good food and drinks? And putting everything else aside, you drank yourself—fine—but you even brought along a minor? Are you getting more and more reckless?”

Han Rao glanced at Zhao Jichuan. She had thought someone like him would be utterly self-centered, but surprisingly, he had principles—knowing better than to bring a minor into such a place.

Zhao Jiyue was left speechless by the retort, her voice lowering as she said guiltily, “Isn’t it just because Luor is in a bad mood?”

“If he’s in a bad mood, her brother will handle it. Why do you need to meddle? Also, don’t be fooled by how cordial Cheng Luo’s brother was with you today. If anything were to happen to Cheng Luo, he’d turn on you in an instant and fight you to the death. At that point, forget about me—not even your second brother or Dad could intervene.”

Han Rao agreed with Zhao Jichuan’s perspective, believing he spoke the truth. On certain bottom-line issues, money and power couldn’t solve everything, because no one could outmatch a madman.

If any fundamental issues arose tonight, Zhao Jiyue would likely be in real trouble.

Zhao Jiyue seemed properly intimidated, drooping her head meekly and digging her fingers nervously into the sofa.

Han Rao stood to the side, watching the siblings argue with detached amusement, like an outsider.

He knew Zhao Jichuan’s anger toward Zhao Jiyue was entirely different from his anger toward her—his fury at his sister stemmed purely from concern and worry, whereas his anger toward her was likely just to make her life miserable.

Zhao Jichuan seemed thoroughly infuriated, too exasperated to continue arguing with Zhao Jiyue, and turned to go upstairs.

Han Rao, seeing this, couldn’t say anything more and turned to leave with her suitcase.

Suddenly, Zhao Jiyue stopped her. “Don’t go,” she said.

Han Rao looked back, her eyes filled with confusion, never expecting to be dragged into the siblings’ conflict. “Hmm?”

Zhao Jiyue stood up and grabbed her arm, lowering her voice as she pleaded pitifully, “Don’t go. If you leave, he’ll just scold me again.”

Han Rao thought to herself: Zhao Jiyue had truly picked the wrong protector. In Zhao

Jichuan’s heart, she was just a bed partner, not someone of any importance—how could she possibly control him?

“I’ll stay, and he might just scold me along with you,” Han Rao said.

Zhao Jiyue frowned and muttered, “Don’t think I don’t know—you’re my brother’s girlfriend. You’re biased, always taking his side when we argue.”

Han Rao was left speechless. She was truly afraid of Zhao Jichuan and his family—their thought processes were utterly bizarre. Zhao Jichuan had already explicitly stated she wasn’t his girlfriend, yet Zhao Jiyue still insisted on making baseless assumptions.

To assume is to assume—Han Rao couldn’t control others’ thoughts. The crux was her fear—she feared Zhao Jichuan might think Zhao Jiyue’s assumptions were her subtle suggestion.

Then she would be too wronged.

“I really am not,” Han Rao emphasized once more, her tone laced with an uncharacteristic sharpness she hadn’t noticed before.

“I don’t care, sister-in-law, please save me, don’t leave yet.” Zhao Jiyue clung to her arm coquettishly.

“Yueyue, right? I’m really not your sister-in-law, and I could never be your sister-in-law in this lifetime. I can’t take this kind of joke.” Han Rao spoke with complete honesty.

Zhao Jichuan had somehow come downstairs again without anyone noticing. He stood at the stairwell, abruptly interrupting their conversation as he asked Zhao Jiyue, “What did you just call her?”

Zhao Jiyue smiled and said, “Sister-in-law, sister-in-law.”

She smiled innocently, clearly accustomed to such playful banter.

Han Rao raised her eyes to Zhao Jichuan, frowning with an innocent smile, but her heart was in her throat.

She truly felt that she and the Zhao family were incompatible, whether it was Zhao Jichuan or Zhao Jiyue.

“Don’t say that,” Han Rao murmured softly, glancing tentatively at Zhao Jichuan as she tried to distance herself from the situation.

At critical moments, one must naturally prioritize self-preservation.

It’s human instinct.

The man’s eyes darkened inexplicably at the words, seemingly still angered by Zhao Jiyue’s unexpected interruption tonight.

Han Rao watched as he casually removed the watch from his wrist, then said to her, “Stay. Leave tomorrow morning. Come upstairs with me.”

There was a layer of ice in the tone.

Han Rao shuddered inwardly, glanced at Zhao Jiyue, and obediently followed Zhao Jichuan upstairs step by step.

As soon as they entered the bedroom, Zhao Jichuan grabbed her arm, clamped his hand around her neck, and forcefully bit her lips.

Han Rao groaned in pain, clenched her fists, and pounded on him with all her might, desperately resisting the kiss. “What are you doing!”

The door was still open, and she didn’t want Zhao Jiyue to see.

Zhao Jichuan pinned her hands down, released her lips, and bent forward to slowly trail kisses downward—from her neck to her collarbone, then back to her neck again.

His kiss at this moment was quite intimate and tender.

But Han Rao was terrified, unable to fathom what he was up to or how much of her conversation with Zhao Jiyue he had overheard.

She thought, since Zhao Jichuan heard Zhao Jiyue call her sister-in-law, he must have also heard her later explanation.

Zhao Jichuan was still kissing her, his scorching breath spraying against her ear.

Suddenly, she sensed something was wrong and pushed him away abruptly, then hurriedly flung open the bathroom door to check the mirror. Sure enough, there was a vivid red mark on her neck—so dark it was almost purple.

Han Rao was furious. She turned back and slammed the bedroom door, saying viciously, “I hate you to death.”

She is flying to Hengdian tomorrow and will join the crew the day after for costume fittings.

This hickey is so dark, it definitely won’t fade for days.

How could he expect her to maintain her dignity in the crew?

She didn’t understand why Zhao Jichuan suddenly went crazy with her tonight. He had never been like this before—at his worst, he’d only leave marks on her body, in places normally covered by clothes.

But this time, apart from the turtleneck sweater, the other clothes simply couldn’t cover it up.

Han Rao’s chest heaved violently as she vigorously rubbed the hickey, as if doing so could make it disappear.

Zhao Jichuan looked at her hostile gaze and suddenly felt a bit irritated. Tonight, one after another, they were all giving him headaches.

He reached out to pull her, but she shook him off, glaring at him with gritted teeth as if she couldn’t even be bothered to argue with him.

“Are you angry?”

“You promised me, why do you still deliberately bully me?”

This matter had actually been brought up by Han Rao during one of their intimate moments. At the time, he was tenderly kissing her neck when she suddenly interrupted him. She clung to his arm and begged him, pleading with him not to leave marks where they could be seen.

Perhaps she was too adorable at that moment, so he agreed without hesitation and never did it again.

Han Rao felt that he had deliberately sucked on her with a clear purpose—to leave his mark on her neck.

If it had been accidental, she could have understood.

But doing it intentionally was simply too malicious.

She didn’t want to endure it. Because once she allowed it without stopping, there would inevitably be a second time after the first, and she would suffer endlessly until their relationship came to an end.

“You broke our agreement.” Han Rao enunciated each word deliberately.

Zhao Jichuan stared into her bloodshot eyes, grinding his back teeth.

He was shamelessly unapologetic—he could admit he’d done it on purpose.

But he disliked her attitude, that imperious tone as if she were the one in power.

The man scoffed lightly, “You taught my sister to call you sister-in-law. What are your intentions, Han Rao? Do you think I don’t know?”

Han Rao’s heart trembled, “You’re deliberately framing me! Since you heard it, you must also know I explained—I said I could never become her sister-in-law in this lifetime! When Han Rao says something, she means it.”

Zhao Jichuan’s eyes darkened as he carefully pondered the meaning behind her words, his mind finally settling on just two phrases: “this lifetime” and “never.”

How resolute. How full of attitude.

Zhao Jichuan had to admit, she really knew how to provoke his anger.

The man stared at her intently, but Han Rao didn’t back down an inch. “I won’t admit to things I didn’t do. Nobody gets to throw mud at me,” she declared.

Mud?

Did she consider being called “sister-in-law” by Zhao Jiyue as mud being thrown at her?

She thinks their relationship is dirty?

Zhao Jichuan laughed angrily at her words. The man sat on the sofa, “Han Rao, you’ve got spine. If you’re so capable, then get the hell out and don’t ever come begging to me again.”

Han Rao froze, a chill creeping from her soles to the crown of her head, goosebumps prickling across her skin.

Was he implying this relationship was over?

To be honest, she didn’t want it to end—she knew she had to rely on him. Yet she couldn’t bear being constantly slandered by him either, and her untimely sense of pride flared up again.

Han Rao stood motionless in place, not uttering a word.

There was no sign of her yielding to him either.

Suddenly, Zhao Jiyue knocked gently on the door and whispered tentatively, “Brother, don’t fight, okay?”

Their argument just now was quite loud, and Zhao Jiyue could hear it from downstairs. She knew Zhao Jichuan’s terrible temper—if it continued, Han Rao would definitely suffer. She didn’t want Zhao Jichuan to take his anger out on others because of her.

Zhao Jichuan, hearing the sound, seemed to have found an exit. He immediately pulled open the door, grabbed Zhao Jiyue’s arm, and dragged her away.

Only Han Rao remained in the room.

She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and slowly walked downstairs, pulling her suitcase behind her as she left.

The door closed softly. Zhao Jichuan went downstairs after a while and found it shut tightly, leaving no room at all.

He knew that this time, she wouldn’t shamelessly come back like last time, begging him to kiss her.

Zhao Jichuan felt a surge of irritation in his heart.

Zhao Jiyue, seeing the situation take a turn for the worse, dared not continue to muddy the waters and provoke him.

It was just that Zhao Jiyue found it quite strange—she didn’t understand why Zhao Jichuan would lose his temper with Han Rao over the term “sister-in-law.”

He truly didn’t care about this nickname at all.

Zhao Jichuan and his friends, none of them took it seriously, no one cared about the title.

Take Fan Peng for example. The women he brings along today and tomorrow are never the same, yet he shamelessly has younger ones like Zhao Jiyue call them “sister-in-law.”

Zhao Jichuan stood alone on the balcony, quietly lighting a cigarette as he gazed down at the thick night below.

He waited for a while, the cigarette half burnt out, and sure enough, he saw a small figure dragging a suitcase slowly getting into a taxi.

The man stubbed out his cigarette butt, unable to understand why Han Rao was being so serious

Just a name.

As for swearing that it would never happen in a lifetime?

　　-

Han Rao had to admit, that night she

Dragging the suitcase alone out of Zhao Jichuan’s house was quite embarrassing.

All alone, on Valentine’s Day.

It was as if I had been unceremoniously kicked out.

The midnight temperature was still below zero. Han Rao shrank her neck while waiting for the car, just as she happened to run into the patrolling security guard downstairs.

The security guard was the same one she had seen the first time she visited Zhao Jichuan’s home. Wearing a thick cotton coat and riding a small electric scooter, he clearly recognized Han Rao at a glance.

Han Rao’s appearance was highly distinctive—both elegant and beautiful, making her utterly unforgettable at first glance.

“Are you heading out?” the security guard struck up a conversation.

Han Rao shrugged and said vaguely, “Something came up.”

The security guard wisely didn’t press further and asked if she needed any help. Han Rao shook her head in thanks, joking that she was a tough woman who could handle the suitcase with ease.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, the security guard rode off on his electric scooter to continue his patrol.

Han Rao watched his retreating figure and suddenly recalled the time she had come to Zhao Jichuan’s place at the beginning of the year. Back then, she had been like a spoiled, favored concubine, smugly demanding that Zhao Jichuan come down to greet her. Now, she felt more like a consort banished to the cold palace.

Han Rao shook her head, unable to help but admire her own imagination.

Soon, the taxi arrived.

She loaded the suitcase into the trunk, then got in the car and drove away.

Apart from the emotional fluctuation when she first stepped out, Han Rao was completely unaffected by Zhao Jichuan. After returning home, she double-checked the items needed for the film set and flew to Hengdian with Vivi the next day to start shooting.

Since this drama is set in a historical period, the characters needed to align with the era’s background. For this reason, Han Rao even cut her long hair that she had grown for three or four years.

Finalizing stills, table read, then the opening ceremony.

Han Rao completely stepped into a new role—that of a detestable mistress who made people grit their teeth in anger.

Her daily routine consisted of memorizing lines, filming, script readings, and traveling between the hotel and sets.

The days passed by uneventfully, as if nothing had changed, and Zhao Jichuan seemed to have vanished from her world.

Han Rao vaguely felt that perhaps she and Zhao Jichuan were really over.

She was actually quite nervous, afraid that this play might be the last one in her life.

Yet she felt Zhao Jichuan wouldn’t be so petty as to blacklist her simply because they broke up.

Filming on set lasted for two and a half months, from late winter through spring and into early summer.

Han Rao felt that time passed quickly, and the figure of that person named Zhao Jichuan in her heart grew increasingly indistinct.

She had actually tried to apologize and soften up to him—on her third day at the film set, she mentally prepared herself and sent Zhao Jichuan a WeChat message, but he didn’t reply.

That night, she called him again, and he hung up.

Han Rao felt that he probably really didn’t want to deal with her anymore, so she gave up the idea of continuing to contact him and focused her attention on filming, putting aside all distracting thoughts.

Until one day after Labor Day, she had a minor conflict with the female lead of the crew, Su Wan.

That was the first time Han Rao had made it to the trending list in so many years, all thanks to the spotlight borrowed from Su Wan, the top celebrity.

#Su Wan Bullies Newcomers#

At that time, this hashtag dominated the top spot on Weibo’s trending list, stubbornly remaining there for three to four hours.

A video circulating on the trending list shows Su Wan and Han Rao exchanging heated words during rehearsal before filming, though the reason remains unclear.

During filming, Su Wan had multiple NGs and ended up slapping Han Rao four or five times in succession.

Even with the blurry pixels, it was visibly clear that Han Rao’s face was swollen.

The scene was filmed in the afternoon, and Han Rao only found out she had made it to the trending list when she wrapped up in the evening. She called Hu Shengnan to ask what to do

Hu Shengnan said that free traffic falling from the sky shouldn’t be wasted, and she told Han Rao not to say anything reckless online—just ride the wave of attention properly.

Han Rao agreed.

Hu Shengnan asked her again how her face was, and Han Rao replied with a smile that it wasn’t a big deal, though her face was still quite swollen—she probably wouldn’t be able to film for the next couple of days.

Hu Shengnan actually found it quite unbearable to see someone under her wing being bullied, but after considering the potential traffic, she decided not to let Han Rao act rashly.

Everyone knows that playing the role of a victim naturally elicits sympathy and compassion from netizens effortlessly.

Of course, Han Rao was the real victim this time.

Vivi wasn’t as composed as Han Rao. Heartbroken for her friend, she rolled up her sleeves, declaring she’d scratch Su Wan’s face until it was disfigured.

Han Rao instead grabbed her and reassured her, “If we really disfigure her, we’ll be in deep trouble.”

Vivi felt aggrieved, crying while applying ice to Han Rao, saying how could anyone bully someone like this, “Sis, you said it was fake hitting, the director said it was fake hitting, just use camera angles, but that idiot Su Wan insisted on actually doing it.”

“Isn’t she just deliberately targeting you? She’s jealous that you’re prettier than her, have a better figure, and better acting skills—afraid you’ll surpass her someday.”

Han Rao forced a smile, amused by Vivi’s naivety, and comforted her, saying, “It’s fine, totally normal. This society has discrimination chains everywhere. Look at me—I’m currently a third female lead, looked down upon by the lead actress. But let me tell you, when I was just an extra, even the long-time extras would look down on me because they thought I didn’t have as much acting experience as them.”

Han Rao didn’t really care. She thought there was some truth to the saying that the process of constantly climbing upward is essentially moving from a lower-level discrimination chain to a higher-level one.

“You can’t keep hitting me like this,” Vivi said resentfully. “Without any reason at all, this is just too much.”

Han Rao nodded in agreement, but the smile at the corners of her lips faded like unraveling silk.

Her eyes darkened slightly, as she could vaguely guess why Su Wan was targeting her.

A vile person remains vile wherever they go; it’s a trait they’ll never outgrow in this lifetime.

Vivi gently applied the ice pack to Han Rao and sighed, “I really should stay by your side from now on, so no one can bully you.”

Han Rao flashed a smile and grasped her hand. “Alright.”

Vivi was outspoken and couldn’t hold back at all, intermittently cursing with quite a few swear words.

Han Rao just listened in for the fun of it, marveling at how sharp-tongued Northeasterners were—they could curse without ever repeating themselves.

After a while, someone suddenly knocked on the door.

Vivi thought it was the film crew’s director or producer coming to discuss the matter with Han Rao, so she immediately rushed to open the door, already planning how to confront these arrogant jerks who abused their power.

The result was an unfamiliar face.

“Who, who are you looking for?”

Zhao Jichuan could recognize Vivi—he had seen her resume before. The man smiled slightly and asked, “Is Han Rao here?”

“Sis, it’s for you.” Vivi looked somewhat suspicious but still turned her head to call Han Rao.

Han Rao stood up with the ice in her hand, “Coming.”

The moment she saw Zhao Jichuan, her nose tingled with a sudden urge to cry from overwhelming emotion.