Chapter 38: Hating “I’ll f***ing torment you to death”

Hearing his laughter, Han Rao felt her scalp tingle. She kicked harder, trying to push him away. But the man only thrust forward one step, completely conquering her.

Han Rao’s cascading black hair spread across the washbasin. She tilted her head back, looking up at the man’s handsome face through the gap between her legs. Her heart instantly softened, and her anger dissipated by more than half. She thought, she must truly be a member of the “looks-first” club. No matter how tense things got between them, as long as she saw his face and good physique in bed, she could forgive the world for a while.

Zhao Jichuan saw that she had fallen silent, so he lifted her up a bit, his hands tightly gripping her waist. As he continued to exert force, he watched her facial expressions with great interest.

Within his sight, he saw her eyes red-rimmed and teary, looking at him with hostility.

He didn’t like the way she looked at him, so he suddenly pulled away and turned to leave.

Han Rao couldn’t understand his thoughts, thinking she was free, so she immediately used her hands to pull herself off the washstand. She landed barefoot on the ground, her red skirt flowing down with her movements.

As soon as Han Rao landed, her legs gave out. She leaned against the wall, her rational mind telling her that running was the best option.

However, before she could even touch the bathroom doorknob, the man returned, holding something in his hand.

So what, Han Rao didn’t look closely.

She nervously swallowed, shrinking her neck, trying to squeeze through the gap between him and the door, but the man moved a step to the left, blocking her way.

“Raorao.”

His voice, like a siren’s song, lingered in her ears. Han Rao felt as if she had been hypnotized, her body weak, unable to take another step.

Zhao Jichuan put one arm around her waist, picked her up, and casually grabbed a white bath towel, spreading it on the vanity before pressing her onto it.

It was only when Han Rao lost her freedom again that she thought of resisting. She didn’t care about anything, using both her hands and feet, unsure if she was kicking him or pushing him.

He blocked her, letting her vent, but silently pushed her knees apart again.

After a long struggle, Han Rao was exhausted, panting and wrinkling her nose as she looked at him.

The corners of her eyes were crimson, and her gaze was full of hostility.

Zhao Jichuan grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms. Han Rao bit down on his shoulder, thinking, “Why don’t I just bite him to death, this high-maintenance, finicky man.”

The next second, her chin was forced up.

Han Rao glared, and even though her body was already like gushing spring water, she stubbornly said, “Don’t touch me.”

Zhao Jichuan dismissed her words as nonsense, or perhaps a flirtatious remark. He picked up the blue silk scarf that had just fallen on the vanity, neatly folded it twice, and blindfolded her.

The man finally got his wish, covering those eyes full of hostility towards him, and his mood brightened considerably.

He didn’t like that look in her eyes, he didn’t know why.

It was a strange sensation, blind but not completely blind, a hazy veil covering her eyes. She couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, but she could feel his fluctuating proximity and the incandescent light above her head.

Han Rao raised her hand to pull it off, but the man grabbed her wrist and threatened, “If you take it off, I’ll tie your hands too.”

Sure enough, she looked very imposing, but a little scare immediately made her behave. She clenched her fists and didn’t move.

Han Rao remembered the last time, the feeling of having her hands tied was really not good; she couldn’t even hug him.

She was a little surprised by her own thoughts, then immediately accepted the reality: although she resisted on the surface, she actually really enjoyed being with him.

Seeing that she was no longer acting recklessly, Zhao Jichuan leaned forward and kissed her lips, transferring all the remaining alcohol to her. He felt like a complete jerk; the more innocent and pitiful she looked, the more he wanted to bully her.

She had no idea how beautiful she was at that moment; the blue scarf added a unique charm to her.

Han Rao didn’t want him to kiss her, or rather, she knew this was her last act of defiance.

She didn’t want to show that she was indulging in the love he gave, but her body surrendered a step before her mind did.

Zhao Jichuan raised his hand and clasped her neck, turning her chin to face him. He said with emotion, “Raorao, sometimes I shouldn’t waste words on you.”

Trying to reason with her is futile; her temper is worse than anyone’s, and an argument erupts at the slightest disagreement.

She knows exactly how to provoke him; a few words are all it takes to enrage her.

If there’s a next time, he should, just like now, merge with her body, invading her very flesh and blood.

Her body was far more honest than her mouth.

Han Rao stared at him, her face flushed, her eyes dazed.

While his actions sent shivers of pleasure down her spine, she simultaneously forced herself to resist him.

Han Rao pulled her hand out, mercilessly pushing against his chest. If her legs hadn’t been restrained, she would have kicked him to death.

Zhao Jichuan clasped her hand, pulling her forward, pressing it against his abs, and ravaging it up and down.

He knew her too well; almost every time, she would reach out and touch his abs.

As expected, Han Rao seemed to be enchanted. She gently poked it with her fingertips; it was very hard, with distinct blocks. Her long eyelashes trembled slightly. Even through a layer of silk scarf, she seemed to be able to see his muscles bulging as his waist moved, and his clearly defined blood vessels and veins.

Her face was completely flushed.

The man, seeing this, held her hand and moved it up, pressing it against the red marks on his chest. He coaxed, “Look, these were all scratched by a cat.”

Han Rao felt a little guilty. When she was messing around with him just now, she really didn’t hold back and accidentally scratched him several times.

“I can’t see,” she poured cold water on him.

Zhao Jichuan didn’t argue with her. He took advantage of her unpreparedness, sped up his pace, bent down, and bit her earlobe, teasing her, “Are you a cat?”

Han Rao almost blurted out, “You’re the one who’s like a cat.” On second thought, she realized she didn’t know when she had fallen into his trap again, letting him lead her by the nose.

She was clearly still mad at him.

Han Rao turned her head, not wanting to deal with him, and even deliberately glared at him, but unfortunately, he couldn’t see. Her slender legs dangled in the air, swaying with his movements, and the speed was visibly increasing.

The woman bit her lip hard, wanting to beg for mercy but not wanting to give in. So, she stubbornly squared her shoulders and was about to lift her leg to help him again.

Zhao Jichuan’s large hand covered her iris tattoo, gripping her leg and pulling her forward, fitting her perfectly. He stopped moving, their noses brushing, his hot, ragged breath spraying across her cheeks.

He said, “Baby, are you admitting your mistake or not?”

A current seemed to pass through Han Rao’s entire body, her toes curling up because of that address.

She shook her head, sobbing, “If you’re mad that I forgot your birthday, then I apologize. I didn’t mean to. I don’t usually celebrate my own birthday, and I’m not in the habit of celebrating anniversaries. If you want to, we can make up for it tomorrow, and I promise I’ll remember next time.”

She was telling the truth. When she was in high school, she boarded, and her birthday every year perfectly missed the holidays. Over time, she stopped celebrating her birthday. After college, when she was with Xie Yaochen, he valued rituals more and celebrated her birthday with her. Later, when she was drifting alone like a lost soul in Beicheng, she had long forgotten about her birthday.

“But if you’re mad at me for going to see Xie Yaochen’s mother, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I told you, she helped me, she treated me very well before, and I don’t want to be an ungrateful person. I was going to see her no matter what, but I can promise this is the last time, because after all, his mother doesn’t have much time left.”

Han Rao felt a sense of relief after she finished saying these words intermittently.

Zhao Jichuan knew she was stubborn. He had known she was stubborn for over a year, or even longer.

When they first got together, what truly attracted him to her was precisely this spirited feeling. But at the time, he was, after all, an outsider, approaching it with a mindset akin to playing with a pet.

Things are different now; she has subtly permeated his life, and he can no longer be as carefree as before.

Zhao Jichuan found her sensitive spot and pressed down, his voice hoarse as he said, “Then why did you hide it from me?”

Deception represents a guilty conscience.

If she could have been as open and honest with him about knowing of Xie’s mother’s illness as she was about other things, he might not have been so angry.

“I just think… I don’t think it’s necessary.”

She couldn’t bear it, as if the last line of her psychological defense had been completely breached by him. She buried her chin in the crook of his shoulder, closed her eyes, and let out a sigh of relief.

Zhao Jichuan felt that she changed faster than the weather. One moment she was explaining to him, and the next she became negative and lifeless.

The man suddenly pulled away, pressing down, as if teasing and provoking, yet not truly giving her release.

Han Rao only felt a gnawing pain, like ants biting her. Her lower abdomen twitched, and the insides of her thighs were red from being knocked.

“Zhao Jichuan.” She bit her lip, calling his name indistinctly.

“What’s wrong?”

“You bastard!”

The man laughed, listening to her curse him: “You just wait, the day I get rich, I’m going to torment you to death.”

I’ll make sure he experiences the feeling of unfulfilled desire, left hanging in mid-air.

He was delighted by the scolding, and went all the way, leaning into her ear and saying, “I’m waiting for that day.”

Outside, thunder rumbled, and at some unknown point, it had started to rain.

Han Rao felt she was no longer herself; she was like a leaf hanging on a tree, precariously swaying under the ravages of a fierce storm.

The wind and rain swayed, lightning flashed and thunder roared. Finally, she drifted down, stumbling, feeling the intense rain spray upon her.

She landed, safely and soundly.

Han Rao’s back was pressed against the mirror, which was no longer as bone-chillingly cold as it had been just moments before.

She gasped softly, and her silk scarf loosened.

The moment she saw the light again, Han Rao looked up at the man in front of her, pouted aggrievedly, and then opened her arms, hunched over, and nestled into his embrace.

The man’s heart instantly softened, as if struck by something.

He hugged her, gently patting her smooth back.

“Zhao Jichuan, I hate you so much.” She said with effort, “Have you never believed me?”

As she spoke, she childishly pounded his back twice.

She was in great pain; it was agonizing not to be trusted in a relationship.

She wanted to know, did she have the face of a femme fatale, or the aura of a vixen?

Why does no one want to believe her?

Why does everyone think she’s a loose woman?

Zhao Jichuan tucked her hair behind her ear, then scooped her up by the waist and carried her to the bed.

With the indoor lighting, he could clearly see her waist

His sides and inner thighs were flushed red. He wasn’t much better off himself; looking down, he saw one red mark after another on his chest, and a circle of teeth marks on his right forearm.

As soon as Han Rao touched the bed, she immediately wrapped herself in the quilt, covering her head as well.

Zhao Jichuan casually found a set of loungewear to put on, then sat on the edge of the bed and pulled back her quilt.

He sighed, and with all his patience, reasoned with her, “Han Rao, don’t you honestly feel that what you did today was wrong? Yesterday, I asked your assistant about your schedule, and she said you’d be recording in Hangzhou for two more days. Do you dare say you didn’t instruct her to say that?”

“From the beginning, you knew very well that I couldn’t know about this, but did you ever think about why you had the idea of hiding it from me?”

He poked her chest, “That’s because you have a guilty conscience.”

Han Rao was speechless; he had said it all correctly.

But she really didn’t have any thoughts of rekindling an old flame with her ex-boyfriend; rather, she knew that once he found out about this, her life wouldn’t be easy.

She and he were always like they were in different time zones, never on the same wavelength. He didn’t understand her motivations, and she couldn’t figure out his inner thoughts.

“Han Rao, since you’re working for me, you can’t be half-hearted. That’s a serious breach of contract.” He had reverted to his usual cool and self-possessed demeanor, a stark contrast to his earlier frenzied state.

“I really don’t have any other intentions.” She lowered her eyes, “I don’t know how to explain it clearly to you, I…”

She sighed, “Zhao Jichuan, in this relationship, I have been open and honest. I have never done anything to betray you. As long as our relationship lasts, I never will.”

Actually, she lied. She was no longer as open and honest as she was at the beginning.

Because she had once given him her heart as well.

Unfortunately, he didn’t need it.

He was too overbearing; he didn’t love her, yet he demanded her loyalty, insisting that she couldn’t have anyone else in her heart.

She looked up at him, and seeing no reaction from him, she lowered her gaze and burrowed back into the covers. “Never mind, let’s just sleep.”

A passive “believe it or not” attitude.

Zhao Jichuan threw back the covers, lay on the bed, and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her neck, feeling as if something was spiraling out of control. He hadn’t been like this before; he had never experienced emotions like jealousy or envy.

The man felt a suffocating tightness in his chest, his mood as oppressive as a thunderstorm, unsure which of her words had caused it.

The rain outside the window was still drifting, falling in fine threads, pattering on the glass.

After a long pause, Zhao Jichuan seemed to compromise with himself. He said, “Don’t let it happen again.”

Han Rao knew that this meant it was time to move on.

She should have kissed or hugged him to please him, but she felt she had no strength, so she just gave a soft “hmm.”

She listened carefully to the rain outside the window, feeling as if the wind had also picked up.

She huddled in the quilt, telling herself in her heart: Just bear with it a little longer, after all, her wings haven’t hardened yet.

She cast aside all her self-respect, willing to be the canary in his cage, all for the sake of her future and career. Her career had just begun to take off, and she couldn’t personally bury what she had worked so hard to achieve.

Han Rao closed her eyes. She thought being a mistress was simple, as long as her skills in bed weren’t too bad. She never imagined it would be so mentally and physically taxing.

Somehow, she suddenly remembered what Hu Shengnan had told her.

Hu Shengnan told her that men could only be stepping stones; ultimately, she had to walk this path herself.

Walk by yourself.

Walk by yourself.

That was the first time Han Rao had the idea of leaving him completely.