Chapter 30: Backing Her Up “Professor Su wants to discuss something private with you.”…

“Han Rao, this is for you.”

Lin Siliang wore a hollow smile, even lightly touching his hair as his gaze locked onto Han Rao—intense, predatory, like a hunter eyeing its prey.

Han Rao felt a chill rising from the soles of her feet. She steeled herself, accepted the cake with thanks, and added, “Happy birthday, Teacher Su.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Su Wan’s face darken instantly.

Perhaps to maintain appearances, Su Wan forced a smile and chimed in, “Yes, yes, hurry and share the cake with everyone.”

At this, Han Rao stiffly mustered a polite smile before almost immediately lowering her head as if fleeing.

At that birthday party, Han Rao left midway, and the fruit cake she placed by the table remained untouched.

She made up a random excuse and returned to the hotel, trembling as she hugged herself.

She didn’t understand why the world was so small—how someone like Lin Siliang happened to be connected to Su Wan, and why she and Su Wan had to end up in the same film crew.

Even though that incident had long passed, so long that Han Rao could even laugh and chat about it now.

But when the corner of the perpetrator’s mouth appeared before her, she was still driven mad, unable to control her fear and trembling, terrified that Lin Siliang, that scum, would repeat his old tricks.

At that moment, her first thought was to tell Zhao Jichuan—she wanted to beg him, to call and plead for his help.

Yet with the phone in her hand, she found herself utterly unable to make the call.

Han Rao ultimately abandoned the idea. She could only heighten her vigilance, start carrying a folding knife with her again, and head straight back to the hotel after work.

But the thing she feared didn’t happen. Lin Siliang’s appearance was like a stone thrown into water—it lightly rippled twice before settling back into calm.

He never appeared before Han Rao again.

Yet Han Rao keenly noticed that Su Wan’s attitude toward her had changed.

Later, Han Rao would come to understand that Su Wan saw her as a potential rival, projecting onto her this whole set of female competition dynamics.

He took advantage of Han Rao’s position, using public affairs for private gain and deliberately bullying her.

Usually, Su Wan would taunt her a few times, and Han Rao would endure it. As a result, Su Wan grew increasingly arrogant and even resorted to physical violence.

Han Rao took a light breath, hesitated for a moment, but ultimately didn’t mention any of this to Hu Shengnan.

She casually brushed off Hu Shengnan with a couple of words and hung up the phone.

Han Rao walked to the bedside, tucked Han Ting’s blanket in, and then sat down to continue staring blankly.

Hu Shengnan said Zhao Jichuan intended to deal with Su Wan bullying her, but she couldn’t figure out how he planned to resolve it and felt somewhat agitated.

Things seemed to be gradually veering off course, slipping out of her control.

She felt somewhat overwhelmed and began thinking about Zhao Jichuan again. Hu Shengnan had said he was quite formidable in his methods—so what exactly did he plan to do?

Han Rao steadied her emotions and made another call to Zhao Jichuan.

The phone had just connected when she hung up again, afraid he might already be asleep at this late hour.

Unexpectedly, Zhao Jichuan immediately called back.

“Zhao Jichuan.”

The woman’s cold voice came through the phone, and Zhao Jichuan curled his lips.

“Do you need something?” He seemed to have guessed what she was up to, anticipated her call.

“Yes.”

Zhao Jichuan casually gave her a room number. “Come down and find me. If there’s anything, we’ll talk face to face.”

Han Rao raised an eyebrow and glanced at the room number of Han Ting’s suite, silently cursing Zhao Jichuan for his cunning—he’d actually booked a room right below hers, as if deliberately lying in wait.

Han Rao went straight downstairs and only realized when she reached Zhao Jichuan’s door that he hadn’t even closed it—he’d deliberately left a gap for her.

Han Rao pushed the door open directly. Upon seeing her, the man gestured for her to come over. Han Rao closed the door and sat straight onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You weren’t deliberately waiting for me, were you?”

Zhao Jichuan chuckled softly, reaching out to twirl a strand of her hair between his fingers. Her hair was much shorter now—just enough to wrap around his fingertips twice. “Hmm?”

Han Rao saw through him, “Stop playing dumb.”

She kissed his chin and got straight to the point: “Zhao Jichuan, I came to ask about Su Wan.”

“How do you plan to resolve this matter?”

The man’s gaze remained as gentle as ever, yet an icy glint flickered imperceptibly in his eyes—sharp and piercing.

Han Raoxin’s heart suddenly skipped a beat—she understood the meaning in his gaze.

This time, Su Wan’s actions truly crossed his bottom line. Han Rao’s clinging and theatrics only deepened Su Wan’s guilt.

Su Wan couldn’t survive in the circle anymore.

Han Rao never considered herself a saint. She was someone who held grudges and kept meticulous accounts, never one to let things go easily—otherwise, she wouldn’t have remembered so clearly exactly how many times Su Wan had slapped her.

But now, she softened her tone and negotiated with him, “Zhao Jichuan, can you let Su Wan off this time? Don’t ruin her reputation too badly.”

Zhao Jichuan clearly didn’t expect Han Rao to make such a request. He looked at her and asked, “Why do you say that?”

Han Rao pursed her lips and sighed softly, “If Su Wan encounters trouble now, faces boycotts or gets banned, it will affect our entire crew.”

She stared into his eyes and said, “The entire crew has worked hard for three months, and now the film is about to wrap up. If something happens to the female lead, it means all our efforts these past three months will have been in vain.”

“This will disrupt my plans. In this drama, I play the role of a third party. Both Nan Jie and I believe that if this character is well-developed, it can evoke both love and hate, generating a lot of discussion. Whether people like me or hate me, it will help me gain some recognition. This will be beneficial for my future projects.”

Han Rao carefully analyzed the importance of this drama to her. She didn’t want to lose the big for the small, letting personal grudges ruin the entire production.

She was someone who preferred to see the bigger picture, unwilling to let Su Wan—that one rotten fish—spoil the whole pot.

Zhao Jichuan gently touched the half of her face that had been struck, noticing the red mark was less alarming than when he first saw her.

He rubbed her earlobe with his thumb, suddenly realizing that she was actually quite adept at weighing pros and cons—perhaps even more so than him when it came to distinguishing priorities.

They share many similarities, but she is more patient than him, while he is more extreme than her.

Zhao Jichuan thought selflessly that if he were Han Rao today, being bullied for no reason, he would rather lose eighty thousand himself than let the enemy escape unscathed.

Han Rao, seeing his silence, buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, her tone pitiful yet tinged with resignation. “Zhao Jichuan, time is also a cost. Everything should aim for optimal profit—that’s what you taught me. Three months to film a drama, and I’m only the third female lead. I truly cherish this role and hope she can be seen by the audience.”

“But what about the injustice you suffered? Are you just going to endure it like this?” Zhao Jichuan’s heart ached for her as he gently touched her face again.

Han Rao gripped his hand tightly, “Do you remember the day Yueyue went to the casino? I told you I was going out to watch a movie. It wasn’t because I was particularly interested in the film, but because I played a very small role in it. I wanted to see her. It’s been so long since I’ve had any work aired.”

Her voice grew softer as she spoke, somewhat surprised that she was actually saying these things to him, and feeling a little awkward—after all, it was just a trivial matter, and he might not even remember it.

“None of the previous dramas you filmed aired?” he suddenly asked.

Han Rao shook her head helplessly, “Later, the plays were all suppressed.” Because she had offended Lin Siliang.

Han Rao paused for a moment, then changed the subject, remaining silent about her past with Lin Siliang.

“I’m saying all this just to let you know that I’m really happy and grateful you’re willing to stand up for me. But more than those grievances, I just want this drama to wrap up smoothly and air normally—I just want my character to be seen by the audience. Even if she’s an unlikable role, she truly carries all my heart and effort.”

Han Rao spoke more than usual tonight, and by the end, a wave of sorrow welled up in her heart, her throat tightening with a sour, swollen ache.

Zhao Jichuan noticed the shift in her emotions and cupped her face in his hands.

His eyes held inquiry, waves of emotion surging within them—this was the second time she had spoken to him about her profession.

The first time, she was ambitious and brimming with confidence, telling him that supporting her could be seen as an investment—she was a potential stock, unlikely to let him lose too badly. At the time, he looked down on her, thinking everything she said was childish. Her words sounded pleasant, but in the end, she just wanted fame and popularity.

Zhao Jichuan felt that his prejudice against her was somewhat excessive.

Now, she exudes a worldly innocence and a refreshingly unconventional passion for acting.

The night outside the window grew darker, and Zhao Jichuan tilted his head slightly, faintly catching a glimpse of stars in her eyes.

The man gave a soft “Mm,” stroked her hair, and said, “Alright, I’ll listen to you.”

Spare Su Wan for the time being.

Han Rao smiled with curved eyes and affectionately kissed his lips, “Thank you.”

“Hmm.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and asked if she wanted to stay the night.

Han Rao shook her head, “No, I can’t leave Han Ting alone. I need to go check on him. Let’s do it tomorrow, okay? I’m not filming tomorrow, so I can stay and keep you company properly.”

Zhao Jichuan pinched her nose and compromised, saying, “Fine.”

He didn’t tell her how much he admired her eloquent words tonight, admired her vision, her perseverance, her endurance..

She was indeed the star obscured by dark clouds, so he would do everything in his power to dispel those clouds, allowing her to shine brightly in the field she loved.

Han Rao kissed the corner of his lips like a timid deer drinking water, then trailed lower to press her lips against his Adam’s apple.

Zhao Jichuan stopped her mischievous actions and threatened, “Keep this up and you’re not going anywhere.”

Han Rao smiled coyly and slipped off his lap, darting to the doorway. “President Zhao, see you tomorrow—really, tomorrow!”

Zhao Jichuan looked at her playful demeanor, and the possessiveness in his heart began to stir again.

He was actually quite conflicted, because he also wanted to claim her for himself, unwilling to let her radiance be seen by outsiders.

　　-

The next day, Han Rao and Vivi saw Han Ting off.

Han Ting woke up early with a hangover, feeling guilty. He had originally intended to visit Han Rao, but ended up being taken care of by her all night.

Han Rao said he was just a little kid with a heavy heart, “Don’t pretend to be polite with me. When you were sick as a child, did you ever spare me from your antics?”

Han Rao was talking about when they were kids. Once, Han Ting had a fever and was delirious. He wouldn’t let anyone else near him—only his sister. He kept insisting he’d dreamed that his sister had been captured by monsters, so Han Rao stayed by his side until his fever broke.

Later, Han Rao would often tease him about it, joking whether he had watched too much Ultraman.

Han Ting was amused, and the atmosphere gradually eased

got along well.

Han Ting didn’t speak again either, and naturally, he didn’t ask about the man who had sat beside him in the car last night.

He didn’t expect Han Rao to take the initiative to tell him—she was the type who “wouldn’t give up until she saw the coffin.”

Before leaving, Han Ting hugged Han Rao and whispered in her ear, “Sis, honestly, if you’re ever wronged, just tell me. Maybe I can’t help much, but at least I can listen to you vent.”
Han Rao chuckled, “Alright, don’t worry, I’m fine. Stop overthinking.”

After seeing Han Ting off, Vivi suddenly said while holding her phone, “Sis, Su Wan posted an apology statement.”

Han Rao took Vivi’s phone. This time, the apology letter was posted on Su Wan’s personal Weibo account, not her studio’s.

She skimmed through the content of the apology letter—it was all half-truths at best.

Su Wan admitted that her poor performance had caused Han Rao’s face to swell, and stated that if she had completed the scene in one take, she wouldn’t have inflicted such significant harm on Han Rao. Su Wan specifically apologized to Han Rao and expressed regret for occupying public resources, vowing to improve her acting skills in the future.

Han Rao raised an eyebrow, finding it amusing—what kind of act was Su Wan’s team putting on this time?

First, slap the public in the face by stubbornly insisting she did nothing wrong, then offer an apology as a sweetener?

The most ridiculous part was that while Su Wan kept publicly apologizing to her, she hadn’t received a single private message from Su Wan.

After spending three months together on set, they had added each other as WeChat friends right from the start…

Han Rao glanced at the trending comments again—those condemning Su Wan had garnered many likes. She instantly understood: Su Wan, sensing the tide of public opinion turning against her, had begun her insincere, “heartfelt” apology act.

How tiresome—she had a way of twisting words to suit her narrative, good or bad.

Han Rao truly believed Su Wan had a histrionic personality—always stirring up drama, day in and day out.

Not only could she imagine Han Rao having an affair with Lin Siliang, treating Han Rao as a love rival, but she also played the victim one moment and pitifully admitted her mistakes the next.

Han Rao sighed, turned her head suddenly, and asked Vivi, “Vivi, do you think I’m too kind?”

Only she seriously considered whether this drama could be aired.

Vivi also sighed and said, “Sis, are you really planning to let it go just like that?”

Today, she heard Han Rao recount the words she exchanged with Zhao Jichuan last night, and now seeing Su Wan’s disgusting remarks, she truly felt Han Rao deserved better.

Han Rao smiled faintly, “Let it be, just endure a little longer. Anyway, in a few days, I’ll be wrapping up filming.”

Out of sight, out of mind.

“Alright then.”

Vivi thought Han Rao really didn’t know how to leverage her advantages—if she had a man like Zhao Jichuan behind her, she’d definitely get carried away and turn the world upside down.

　　-

After seeing Han Ting off, Han Rao went to find Zhao Jichuan.

Zhao Jichuan had somehow gotten hold of a necklace from somewhere, and as soon as she arrived, he pulled her into his arms and fastened it around her neck himself.

Han Rao touched the necklace with her fingers and looked at him in confusion. “What’s this for?”

He had never given her this kind of thing before—he was always more straightforward, directly handing over money or resources. Take the card he casually gave her last time, for example. Han Rao had curiously checked the balance and was instantly shocked, nearly dropping her jaw. Holding that card, she felt financially secure for life.

The only pity was that she was a woman of ambition, unwilling to settle for being his pampered canary.

Zhao Jichuan chuckled, “Your neck looks bare—this will look good on you.”

He didn’t mention that this necklace had been specifically requested by Zhao Jiyue for him to bid on at an auction. But when he held it, he thought the two simple rings on the pendant suited Han Rao perfectly, so he decided to keep it for her.

She was usually a very understated person, never flamboyant at heart, and didn’t like wearing jewelry in daily life. Even though she had five ear piercings, she couldn’t be bothered to wear even a single earring on most days.

It’s just that her face is too sculpted, naturally so, exuding an aggressive and seductive allure that makes her come across as flamboyant.

Han Rao and Zhao Jichuan’s gazes met. She was particularly adept at providing him with emotional validation. “Beautiful, I like it.”

Zhao Jichuan glanced at her face again—the swelling had subsided considerably. He said, “Get ready. You’re coming out with me tonight.”

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You’ll know when you get there.”

Han Rao understood; the implication behind his words was for her not to ask too many questions.

She wisely closed her mouth and said okay.

In the evening, Han Rao applied light makeup to cover her face and wore the necklace Zhao Jichuan had given her as they headed to the dinner party together.

She thought it was just an ordinary drinking gathering, like his usual social engagements, perhaps even an opportunity to introduce her to some useful connections.

Opening the door, she realized this gathering was clearly a trap.

Seated Su Wan and Li Mengyang stood up the moment they saw Zhao Jichuan.

“President Zhao.”

Zhao Jichuan took Han Rao’s hand and led her to sit down, pretending to lower his voice as he said to her, “Professor Su mentioned having some personal matters to discuss with you but didn’t know how to arrange a meeting. So I thought I’d do her a favor by inviting you out.”

Han Rao raised an eyebrow, instantly grasping Zhao Jichuan’s intention. This man always worked silently on major schemes—just yesterday he claimed he wouldn’t pursue the matter, yet today he could drag Su Wan out to give her a warning.

Han Rao was always adept at reading the situation. She gave a light chuckle, placed her hands on the table, and leaned slightly forward. “What brings you to me, Professor Su?”