Chapter 45 The Path of an Actress She Wants to Go Home

The next morning, Zhao Jichuan was the first to wake up.

Even though he went to bed so late last night and drank so much, he showed no signs of fatigue or drunkenness at this moment.

The moment the man woke up, he looked down at the woman in his arms and revealed a contented smile.

Han Rao looked completely different when she was asleep compared to when she was awake. When she was asleep, she was particularly serene, and her exquisitely sculpted features, though beautiful, didn’t give off an intimidating vibe.

But if she opened her eyes, put on some simple makeup, and just stood there without saying a word, people would feel a sense of distance and find her unapproachable.

Zhao Jichuan felt that he should love all her facets, but selfishly, he preferred her quiet state. Because at that time, she was vulnerable, innocent, defenseless, and in need of reliance on others.

The man turned sideways, reaching out to pinch her full earlobe. Sure enough, he saw her wrinkle her nose and push his hand away.

“Raorao,” he whispered to her.

Han Rao didn’t wake up.

As expected, less than a minute later, her phone rang. It was her alarm clock, which she had set to wake up earlier today to continue dealing with that mess.

Han Rao sighed, then raised a hand to push Zhao Jichuan, telling him to turn off the alarm.

Zhao Jichuan got up and walked past her, reaching for his phone on the nightstand and turning off the alarm.

He glanced at it and said to her, “Han Ting is calling you.”

Han Rao opened her eyes, took the phone, and called back.

“Sis.”

“What’s wrong?”

Han Ting glanced at the time and grumbled, “It’s so late and you’re still not up. If my brother-in-law wasn’t here, I would have thought something happened to you!”

Her phone wasn’t on speaker, but Han Rao and Zhao Jichuan were very, very close, and that sentence, that address, drifted into his ears.

The man raised an eyebrow, in a good mood, and lay on his side, playing with her hair, wrapping it around his fingers.

He thought: No wonder Han Rao and Han Ting are siblings; they’re so alike, even in personality. Even if they inwardly approve of something, they’ll stubbornly refuse to admit it.

Han Rao noticed Zhao Jichuan’s change, kicked him, and said to Han Ting, “Spit it out, I have work to do soon.”
Han Ting: “Nothing major, just letting you know I have something urgent today, so I won’t be able to make it to your place.”

to your place.

Han Rao sighed, “Alright then, just remember to give me back my key.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it off in a couple of days when I have time.”

Hanging up the phone, Han Rao tossed it aside, yawned, and pulled the covers back up. “I’m going to sleep a little longer.”

“Still sleeping? Don’t you have something to do today? When are you joining the crew?”

Han Rao closed her eyes and sighed, “I don’t know when I’ll join the crew. Just let me rest for a few days. Moving was exhausting.”

Zhao Jichuan seemed helpless. When she got lazy, no one could control her.

So, he got out of bed and tucked her in again, “You sleep first, I’ll go make dinner.”

Han Rao opened one eye and watched the man’s retreating figure, then pulled the covers back over her face.

She was really sleepy because she had gone to bed too late last night. He told her to think about a question, and she really thought about it seriously. He threatened her not to sleep if she couldn’t figure it out, and she really tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Perhaps the dead of night is indeed suitable for thinking. Han Rao did indeed realize some things that she had previously thought were preposterous.

She looked at the sleeping man, as if transported back to her teenage years when her heart first fluttered, when she liked someone so much she couldn’t control herself. Just a single word from him during the day would send her into her covers at night, replaying the moment over and over, then giggling into her hands, fantasizing about the future.

It was clearly very late, and she knew she should go to sleep, otherwise getting up tomorrow morning would definitely be a struggle. But even with her eyes closed, she couldn’t stop thinking about his face, the words he had said to her, the subtle gestures only she had noticed.

Engraved in her memory, yet self-torturing, repeating and intertwining endlessly.

One moment happy, shy, her heart racing; the next, in pain, struggling, lost.

Perhaps every girl experiences a relationship like this. It’s strange, Han Rao’s adolescence came very late; she only truly understood this kind of feeling at the age of twenty-four.

Yet, at twenty-four, she was also mentally mature and rational.

So, she was torn in half by complex emotions, suffering as if gnawed by ants. On one hand, she hopelessly fell in love with Zhao Jichuan, and on the other, she knew perfectly well they weren’t suitable.

Han Rao really wanted to slap herself twice more, just to clear her head.

But before she could lift her hand, the man, still asleep, reached out and pulled the covers over her, then drew her into his embrace.

That’s how Han Rao fell asleep last night. She never imagined that such an intimate gesture would last all night, bringing her an immense sense of security and dependence.

At this moment, the bright sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, landing directly on her arm. After a while, the sun gradually shifted westward, and that ray of sunlight fell upon her face.

Han Rao pulled the blanket completely over her head, couldn’t breathe, and then pulled it off again.

She looked at the empty bedroom, completely sleepless, and had no choice but to get up, shuffle her slippers, and walk to the living room.

The kitchen was open-plan, and the man was busy with his back to her.

He was wearing black loungewear, which was a couple’s outfit with hers. Han Rao looked down at her own clothes, then at his tall back, and was mesmerized, lost in thought.

She thought: He’s truly handsome, even his back perfectly aligns with her aesthetic and sexual preferences.

God is so unfair; all the gifts He bestowed upon him were top-tier. Top-tier family background, top-tier ability, top-tier looks…

Han Rao admitted that she was envious, envious of his smooth and successful life.

She still admired him greatly, admired his demeanor as a good family man.

Han Rao slowed her steps, then embraced him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his back. She could faintly hear his heartbeat.

The man didn’t turn around. He turned on the faucet, washed his hands, then pulled out a paper towel to dry them. Only then did he grasp her hand and say, “Not sleeping anymore?”

“I can’t sleep anymore.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” he said with certainty.

Han Rao poked her head out and looked at him, “Why?”

“No why, I just know.”

Han Rao scoffed, knowing he was playing word games with her again.

“What meal?” She changed the subject.

Zhao Jichuan: “I cooked you some noodles.”

“Do we have noodles at home?” Han Rao remembered that all the dried noodles left when they moved hadn’t been taken.

The man seemed speechless, “No, I just bought it.”

“The dried noodles you bought. What brand are they?”

Zhao Jichuan couldn’t talk to her anymore. She even cared about the brand of dried noodles? Besides, when did he say he cooked dried noodles for her?

“Little ancestor, don’t worry about it for now, just wait to eat, okay?” He seemed a little helpless.

Han Rao’s heart skipped a beat, and she let out a chuckle. She thought, if he kept calling her that, she would truly become spoiled and lawless, after all, she really would take advantage of every little thing.

Han Rao turned and left, sitting on the carpet to continue tidying up the trinkets she was holding.

She took out the doll a fan had given her last time and placed it on the sofa. Han Rao was actually quite suited to the fan-driven entertainment industry, as she was genuinely grateful for her fans’ affection and willing to cherish their adoration.

Unlike some top-tier celebrities, who are propped up by their fans’氪金 (money spent on in-game purchases/fandoms), but secretly resent their fans for being too demanding and treat them like chives to be cut.

She had carefully packed the doll, even putting it in a bag to protect it from dust on the way.

Han Rao wadded up the torn bag, threw it into the trash can, and then rummaged through the large box for things.

When Zhao Jichuan finished cooking and called her, she was just pulling out a movie poster. This poster had been rolled up and placed in a cylindrical box, and it was still a bit curved at the moment. She had to hold down both sides of the poster to flatten it out.

Zhao Jichuan had seen this poster before; it was for the movie “In the Mood for Love,” and it used to hang on her bedroom wall.

This poster is quite classic. When the movie was released back then, many newsstands on the streets displayed this poster. In the poster, Su Lizhen wears a red coat over her cheongsam, her eyes closed, while Zhou Muyun embraces her from behind, burying his head in her shoulder.

Different people might have different feelings when they see this poster.

In her youth, Han Rao focused on the aesthetic beauty of the colors. Now, she pays more attention to the underlying psychology of the characters in the poster. She always feels that Su Lizhen is deeply immersed in her feelings, yet also burdened by endless worries, struggling bitterly.

Han Rao stared at the poster in a daze, not even noticing the man behind her.

Zhao Jichuan saw her engrossed and couldn’t help but ask, “Like it that much?”

Han Rao smiled and turned back to him, saying, “Maggie is my idol. When I was little, I wanted to be an actress because I watched her movies and was influenced by her.”

“It’s a pity, though, that I met her too late and never truly witnessed her peak moments dominating the film industry.”

It’s strange to say, but sometimes fate has its own plans.

When Han Rao was very, very young, she watched Maggie in “Happy Ghost III,” but at the time, she was so busy laughing that she completely ignored the characters in the film.

Later, Xu Lian’ai took her to a youth palace to see an exhibition, and there was a section dedicated to the graduation design works of art academy students. In a very inconspicuous corner, Han Rao was attracted by this poster. She thought that both the actors’ performances and the poster’s color scheme were beautiful. After that, she truly developed self-awareness and started watching some classic good movies. The first time she watched “In the Mood for Love,” she completely fell in love with Maggie.

But when she tried her best to dig into and understand this person, she suddenly realized that she had been attracted to her a long, long time ago.

Han Rao touched the poster and smiled as she told Zhao Jichuan about her “stardom-chasing” journey.

Zhao Jichuan listened very attentively, and even because of her words, he changed his perception of her profession, including gaining a deeper understanding of her.

Perhaps it was because the current entertainment industry was a mixed bag, full of chaos, or perhaps it was because he had seen too many seemingly glamorous actresses do despicable things for a role at various dinner parties. Zhao Jichuan had always held a disdainful attitude; he truly looked down on the acting profession.

So, the first time they met, Han Rao ambitiously told him he could invest in her, and he actually found it quite amusing. He laughed at her desire for fame, yet her insistence on adding a filter to herself.

Now, he understood that in any industry, there was actually a small group of people who were purely driven by passion.

Han Rao was one of them.

The man took the poster. Probably because of its age, the once-white back of the poster had begun to yellow.

He asked, “Do you really like this one so much?”

It seems this poster has an extraordinary origin.

Han Rao winked at him, “Do you want to hear the truth?”

“Go on.”

Han Rao: “Then you’re not allowed to get angry!”

“Am I someone who gets angry that easily?”

Han Rao: “Yes, you always used to get angry with me.”

Zhao Jichuan was speechless, motioning for her to continue.

Han Rao pointed to the signature on the bottom left of the poster, “Maggie’s autograph.” She smiled like a little fox, “My ex-boyfriend gave it to me when I was in college. He knew I liked it, so he went to great lengths to get it from his aunt.”

Zhao Jichuan gritted his back teeth. Seeing her carefully put away the poster as if it were a treasure, he thought, “So, I can’t escape the shadow of her ex-boyfriend now, can I?”

Seeing his terribly grim face, Han Rao cleared her throat and reminded him, “You promised not to get angry.”

Zhao Jichuan: “…”

Han Rao smiled gracefully, stood up, and kissed him on the cheek. “Actually, when I broke up with him, I threw away everything he gave me, including the ring. I only kept this one thing.”

It was because she liked it too much.

“My goddess hasn’t acted since ‘Clean’ in 2004, so if I throw it away, I probably won’t get another signed autograph.”

Zhao Jichuan’s last trace of jealousy was thus appeased.

He stroked her hair and said, “Let’s eat first.”

Later, on Valentine’s Day in 2025, when the special director’s cut of “In the Mood for Love” was re-released, Han Rao was already a top-tier actress in the industry. She was invited to attend the screening and said, “I feel very fortunate to have the opportunity to see such a wonderful work on the big screen again. It’s a completely different feeling. I’m also very grateful for this film, grateful to Director Wong Kar-wai for bringing this film to us, and grateful to Maggie and Tony for their brilliant performances, which led me down the path of acting…”

When she said this, Zhao Jichuan was sitting to her right, accompanying her to watch the movie. It was a romance twenty-five years in the making, and she was also very lucky to witness the kiss of the century between Su Lizhen and Zhou Muyun.

Han Rao was pulled along by Zhao Jichuan. She squeezed his fingers and asked him, “Are you really not angry?”

Zhao Jichuan glanced at her, placed the noodles in front of her, and then served the sweet and sour pork ribs.

Han Rao’s eyes widened, “There’s meat too!”

“Yeah, you worked hard yesterday, so I’m making it up to you today.”

Han Rao quickly picked up a piece, tore off a small bit of meat with her mouth, and praised, “It’s really delicious.”

Zhao Jichuan watched her eat with gusto, and suddenly felt that his busy morning had been quite worthwhile.

There wasn’t much he went to great lengths to pursue; he simply wanted to see her happy.

He had never felt this way before: her happiness was more important than anything.

　　-

In mid-November of that year, Han Rao finally, after many years, welcomed her own lead female role again.

The drama is called “The Legend of Qian Yun,” a historical detective drama with a strong female lead. It revolves around detective work but also involves power struggles behind the scenes. Han Rao plays the character Qian Yun, who is brave and resourceful. Her scenes make up eighty percent of the entire drama, and the script is a thick stack, with lines often being long monologues.

Han Rao knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity she had been waiting for after such a long period of dormancy, and she had to give her all to play this role well.

So, she read the original novel in advance, memorized the script beforehand, and joined the crew early to learn etiquette.

After Han Rao joined the crew, she always felt that this role was tailor-made for her.

The horseback riding she had just learned this year also came in handy; when the director found out she could ride, he was overjoyed. What surprised the director even more was that she had learned dance since childhood, had a good foundation in dance, and her fight scenes were fluid, beautiful, and effortless.

Although some directors crave the endorsement of popular actors, they actually prefer actors like Han Rao who have a solid foundation and are professionally trained. As a senior in the industry once said, she particularly likes actors who can dance because they are not only resilient but also have strong body coordination and control.

Han Rao thus diligently filmed in the crew. Her schedule wasn’t packed; apart from occasionally seeing Zhao Jichuan, it seemed her life was solely dedicated to filming. Even during the Chinese New Year that year, the crew didn’t take a break to meet the deadline, so she didn’t return to Suzhou.

Zhao Jichuan knew she hadn’t gone home for Chinese New Year, so he specifically made a video call to her on New Year’s Eve when she finished work.

Han Rao excitedly went back to her room to answer.

The man was wearing casual clothes, seemingly sitting somewhere, with two evergreen bamboo trees behind him.

Han Rao knew he was probably at the old family home. She had heard him mention that his mother placed great importance on these traditional festivals, hoping that no matter how busy they were, they would still gather as a family for a reunion meal on such important holidays.

Although Han Rao had never met his mother, she could tell from his brief descriptions that she was a mother who was both open-minded and traditional. She supported her children in doing anything they wanted, yet was exceptionally rigid about some things.

“Have you eaten?” she asked.

Zhao Jichuan nodded, saying he had.

“So you’re staying at home today?” This question of hers was a bit redundant, purely a way to make conversation.

Zhao Jichuan patiently replied, “Yes, I’ll stay for two nights.”

“Have you eaten yet?”

Han Rao said, “I’ve had dinner. The crew also prepared a New Year’s Eve dinner with dumplings. It’ll probably be a while.”

The two chatted idly for a few minutes, and the atmosphere was harmonious.

Han Rao quite enjoyed chatting with him under normal circumstances. She would occasionally quip, and although he would retort with a sharp tongue, he would have a smile on his face.

“Zhao Jichuan, why don’t you come see me tomorrow?” she suddenly said.

It was a rather excessive request. She felt it.

But she didn’t expect that the man would actually seriously consider it. After some internal struggle, he said earnestly, “No, Raorao, I still have to deal with the uncles from my family tomorrow.”

Han Rao shrugged, “I’m just kidding, you don’t have to take it seriously. I still have to film tomorrow, a major scene, so I won’t have time to entertain you. Besides, it’s Chinese New Year, and most of the crew members have gone home for the holidays, even the street vendors. I’m afraid if you really come, I won’t be able to take good care of you.”

After speaking, she herself laughed, then felt that what she said was unfamiliar. In fact, she knew that she was afraid of awkwardness and deliberately said some nonsensical things to cover it up.

She still hoped he would come.

But he didn’t essentially belong to her, so she had no right to ask him to accommodate her.

Zhao Jichuan seemed a little helpless; he missed her too. With her out filming, he hadn’t seen her for a long time, and he always felt an emptiness.

So the man suddenly turned the camera, pointing it through the fogged-up glass towards the window outside.

Perhaps because of the mist, Han Rao couldn’t see very clearly, only vaguely sensing light and figures outside.

Zhao Jichuan wiped the glass with his hand, clearing away the mist, and the view instantly became clear.

Han Rao saw a girl setting off fireworks in the yard.

She couldn’t clearly see the person’s face, but she could guess it was his sister.

Just as she was completely bewildered, wondering about the purpose of his actions, the man suddenly spoke. He said, “I used to think Yueyue’s act of setting off fireworks was childish, but now watching her play, I always think of you. I wonder what it would be like to see you set off fireworks?”

“She said the fairy wands from this shop are the prettiest. How about next year, I take you to get some to play with?”

Zhao Jichuan’s words were full of selfishness, because he actually knew that he was asking for her next year.

Last year, during the New Year, she asked her to stay in Beicheng, but she insisted on returning to Suzhou. This year, she seemed to be stationed at the film set and didn’t return to Beicheng either. He hoped that next year, during the New Year, she could be with him.

He wasn’t someone who cared about rituals, but he really wanted to spend the New Year with her.

He found the long meal at home quite boring, not as interesting as being with her.

The man’s gaze fell on the flickering sparkler. He could even imagine how beautiful she would look if the light from the sparkler illuminated her face.

Upon hearing this, Han Rao felt her heart tremble, and she gripped her phone with a little more force.

She followed her feelings and said yes, as if possessed. She knew very well that if she didn’t film, she would go back to Suzhou to spend the New Year with her grandmother. And he, probably, wouldn’t be able to truly extricate himself from his family to accompany her.

The two remained silent for a long time. Downstairs, Zhao Jiyue was having fun, taking out her phone and asking the auntie at home to take pictures of her.

The fairy wand slowly burned out, but she immediately lit another to continue. As for the cigarette in Zhao Jichuan’s hand, it burned out, and the ash fell, scalding his fingertip.

The man suddenly woke up, chuckled softly, and called her, “Raorao.”

“I’m here.”

He hummed softly, his voice low, “It’s nothing, you go on with your work.”

Han Rao pursed her lips, said okay, and hung up the video call.

The video call ended, and she seemed to return to the real world, as if the moment just passed was merely a fleeting dream.

Now my heart feels empty.

Han Rao sat on the chair for a while, hugging herself, and couldn’t help but ponder the subtext of Zhao Jichuan’s words.

But then she told herself, forget it, don’t be delusional. Sometimes lowering your expectations can lead to pleasant surprises.

So

Han Rao breathed a sigh of relief, then opened WeChat again to video call her family.

Su Zhiyu knew she wasn’t coming home for Chinese New Year and felt sorry for her. As if anticipating her video call, she answered immediately.

Opening her mouth, she asked, “A-Ying, have you eaten?” She was most afraid that Han Rao wouldn’t have food to eat.

Han Rao sent her the photos she had taken, saying the crew’s food was good and there would be dumplings later.

Su Zhiyu rambled on, giving her many instructions, which Han Rao agreed to one by one. In turn, she told her to take good care of herself and that she would come home to see her after filming wrapped up.

Su Zhiyu patted her chest with a smile and said, “Grandma is in great shape!”

Han Rao also smiled, feeling very happy with her grandma around, as if she were a child again in her grandma’s presence.

But what Han Rao never expected was that no matter how well things were agreed upon in the video call, it was ultimately an illusion.

When she saw Su Zhiyu again, the old lady had broken her promise and was lying weakly in her hospital bed.

Han Rao remembered it very clearly. That year, just after the Lantern Festival, she had been filming all morning, and her phone had been left on a chair on set.

By the time she finished work, she had dozens of missed calls.

Han Rao always felt that fate was so playful. Vivi had been with her on set for Chinese New Year and hadn’t gone back for the holiday. Seeing that the Lantern Festival was approaching, Han Rao gave her two days off to go back to Harbin to celebrate the Lantern Festival with her parents, as there was still some time before filming wrapped up.

But because Vivi wasn’t there that day, no one knew that Han Rao’s phone was ringing off the hook.

Han Rao had a bad premonition, and she didn’t even realize that her hands were trembling slightly.

She took a deep breath, mustered her courage, and then called Han Ting.

“Xiao Ting…” She hadn’t had time to ask what was wrong, or if something had happened at home.

Just then, Han Ting said, “Sister, Grandma had a myocardial infarction…”

She didn’t hear the rest of what he said, only felt a ringing in her ears, her whole body spinning, and she sat dazed in the chair.

How could this be?

When Chinese New Year came around, her grandma, full of life, called her and asked if she wanted her to take the high-speed train over to bring her a New Year’s Eve dinner.

Han Rao only felt as if her heart was being twisted by a knife, with only one thought left in her mind—

Go home.

She wanted to go home.