Chapter 11: Possessiveness Bites Through Lips

Zhao Jichuan didn’t know why either, but his words carried a tone of reprimand.

It’s probably because Han Rao is inherently too strong-willed and doesn’t know how to show weakness.

Han Rao opened her eyes and first looked at Zhao Jichuan. The man’s gaze carried a formidable aura.

Yet strangely, she wasn’t afraid of that look in his eyes. She always vaguely sensed that his refusal to let her drink still stemmed from concern for her.

Care.

The word suddenly popped into Han Rao’s mind, startling even herself.

Before she could react, Fan Peng insisted relentlessly, “It’s just one drink. Wouldn’t refusing be a slap in my face?”

Han Rao pursed her lips, not intending to explain herself

She wasn’t feeling well. Though she’d never worked a nine-to-five job, she understood workplace rules perfectly—after all, the cutthroat entertainment industry was a hundred times more toxic than any ordinary office environment.

In the workplace, no one cares about your excuses or reasons; leaders only care about your attitude and whether the results satisfy them.

Fan Peng was her top boss.

Han Rao swirled her wine glass, her brows arching slightly. “Director Fan, that wasn’t my intention.”

She saw the wine grow darker under the lamplight, rippling with every movement of her hand.

At this moment, Han Rao suddenly felt a sense of release.

She raised her glass again, “President Fan, cheers.”

Zhao Jichuan could only describe Han Rao with the phrase “not knowing when to quit.” Her fingertips trembled slightly, yet she stubbornly persisted.

Or perhaps, she had accurately gauged his psychology and deliberately pushed her luck?

Zhao Jichuan couldn’t quite put it into words.

He just felt somewhat irritated and snatched the wine glass from Han Rao’s hand. “Nothing’s wrong. You go out first. Fan Peng and I have something to discuss.”

Before Han Rao could lift her leg, Fan Peng asked, “What about this glass of wine?”

Zhao Jichuan glanced at Fan Peng, who was always eager to stir up trouble, and downed his glass of wine in one gulp.

Fan Peng raised an eyebrow, deliberately watching Zhao Jichuan suffer a setback. He never expected that Zhao Jichuan would one day change his ways and shield a woman from drinking—truly a rare sight to behold.

Among their circle, Zhao Jichuan was generally considered a man lacking in charm. Once he said no to drinking, no amount of persuasion could make him take a sip. Even if a beautiful woman sat in his lap, coaxing him with sweet words, he remained unshaken—calmly pushing her away and walking off unscathed.

Such a rigid and uncompromising person would actually make an exception for a woman.

Fan Peng couldn’t help but glance at Han Rao a few more times. He thought that apart from her exceptionally good looks and nice figure, there wasn’t anything particularly outstanding about her.

Perhaps Han Rao’s flower simply couldn’t catch his eye.

Zhao Jichuan gracefully set down his wine glass and casually dismissed her to go out and have some fun, mentioning that he and Fan Peng still had some matters to discuss.

This was the second time he had repeated those words, and Han Rao wisely took her leave.

After going out, she absentmindedly walked into the crowded area of the hall.

The room was packed with people, and at a glance, there were countless handsome men and beautiful women. Apart from a few actors and singers who frequently appeared on TV, Han Rao had no idea who the other young ladies and gentlemen belonged to.

Han Rao stepped back into the world of fame and fortune after four years, carrying an indescribable feeling in her heart.

She didn’t eat dinner, so she picked two pieces of dessert, not daring to take more for fear of gaining weight, then walked to the window and stared blankly, thinking she’d wait for Zhao Jichuan to finish discussing business and contact her.

Before Zhao Jichuan arrived, I first encountered an “acquaintance.”

Xie Yaochen came to this birthday banquet as the companion of his top-paying female patron, who had invited him as her dance partner and to broaden his horizons.

Originally, he wanted to decline. After all, his online persona was that of a passionate young man who had struggled in Beijing for years, devoted to music but forced into livestream sales to make ends meet. He was afraid of being photographed and exposed online, which could damage his carefully crafted internet image.

But the wealthy woman repeatedly assured that it was an extremely private birthday party, attended only by prominent figures from Beicheng, and paparazzi wouldn’t dare to offend them.

Xie Yaochen was also wandering aimlessly until he spotted that familiar silhouette standing by the window—only then did he feel this trip wasn’t in vain.

Almost instinctively, Xie Yaochen strode toward Han Rao in a few quick steps, “Yingying.”

Han Rao turned around in astonishment at the address, and the moment she saw him, she was struck speechless with shock.

“Yingying”—aside from her mother and grandmother, the only ones who called her that were Xie Yaochen and his mother.

Han Rao couldn’t remember the last time they had met—it had ended quite unpleasantly anyway. After that, she had only occasionally come across his live streams a few times.

“I told you, don’t call me that.” Han Rao’s face turned cold as she turned her back and stuffed the remaining piece of dessert into her mouth.

Xie Yaochen stepped closer, standing side by side with her. Despite her aloof demeanor, he remained immersed in the joy of their reunion.

“How did you get here?”

Han Rao chewed the dessert slowly, only to find sweetness mingled with bitterness. It took her great effort to swallow it all down.

“What does it have to do with you?” she retorted, raising her eyes to meet his with a sharp, distant gaze that bordered on cold indifference.

Xie Yaochen felt as if he had been doused with cold water, but he refused to give up. “Yingying, when I went home recently, my mom kept asking about you, wondering why I didn’t bring you along. I told her you were busy.”

Han Rao frowned. “Are you done yet? Stop using your mom as an excuse! What’s the point of clinging to me like a sticky plaster?”

Xie Yaochen was left speechless by her scolding. He had never been able to out-argue her, so he gritted his teeth and changed the subject.

“Who did you come with? You can’t get into Mr. Fan’s private party without an invitation.”

Han Rao simply gazed at him quietly.

Xie Yaochen raised his voice and cursed, “Fuck,” “Could it fucking be Lin Siliang? Han Rao!”

Han Rao found it laughable—Lin Siliang was the very rich second-generation she had offended back then, who in a fit of anger had her blacklisted.

She couldn’t comprehend what kind of dog-brain logic Xie Yaochen had, to the point where he actually thought there was any entanglement between her and Lin Siliang.

Han Rao glared at him coldly. Mentioning Lin Siliang was the last straw—it genuinely angered her.

Xie Yaochen actually hated Han Rao’s gaze the most because he couldn’t see through it, nor could he enter her inner world.

The man scratched his head, suddenly realizing something. “A-Ying, I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t doubting you.”

Han Rao thought he was truly protesting too much.

She brushed the crumbs off her hands, feeling utterly bored. The incessant chatter around her made her head ache. Whether it was the medication wearing off or Xie Yaochen affecting her mood, she wasn’t sure, but a dull pain began to stir in her lower abdomen again.

Han Rao tried to speak calmly, “It doesn’t matter, I don’t care anymore.”

With that, she turned to leave, wanting nothing more than a change of scenery.

Xie Yaochen suddenly grabbed her wrist, “Aying, don’t be angry.”

Han Rao forcefully shook him off and smiled helplessly, “I’m really not angry. Didn’t I already say it’s all in the past?”

She raised her eyes and met his gaze, enunciating each word clearly: “And don’t call me that again.”

She disliked him calling her so intimately; it made her feel repulsed and sickened.

Han Rao walked past Xie Yaochen without even turning her head. Not long after, she received a call from Zhao Jichuan.

“Wait for me in the car.”

Han Rao hadn’t even finished speaking when the call was abruptly ended on the other side.

Han Rao didn’t have the energy to think too much; she simply took the elevator downstairs.

When she arrived and saw Wang Jie standing by the car smoking, a sense of foreboding washed over her.

She opened the car door and found Zhao Jichuan already seated inside. He lazily loosened his tie with a tired gesture, his exhaustion clearly written across his face.

Han Rao’s sixth sense was acting up; she couldn’t shake the feeling that Zhao Ji was enveloped in an icy aura, the atmosphere around him unbearably oppressive.

Could it be that the business deal with Fan Peng didn’t go well?

Han Rao could only speculate, not daring to ask outright.

Zhao Jichuan remained silent, so Han Rao kept quiet as well. One hand pressed against her lower abdomen, she reached for the suit jacket lying nearby with the other.

She had just reached for her coat, not yet draping it over her legs, when Zhao Jichuan abruptly yanked her wrist with force, sending Han Rao tumbling squarely onto him.

She couldn’t figure out the situation, feeling that the business deal must have really gone sour, so the anger was being taken out on her as well.

She was really unlucky..

Before Han Rao could finish her little scheme, Zhao Jichuan grabbed her waist with one hand, clamped her chin with the other, and kissed her.

His kisses fell upon her like a sudden storm.

The man domineeringly pried open her lips, entangling with her and disrupting her breath.

Han Rao always had the illusion that he wanted to devour her whole.

The dim light inside the car bred desire and greed.

Zhao Jichuan’s hand moved downward, touching something that suddenly made his nerves tense. He came to his senses and withdrew his hand.

Yet he didn’t stop there. Instead, the kiss deepened, growing more intense until, like a greedy vampire, he finally bit her before ending the kiss and slowly releasing her.

Han Rao licked her lips, puzzled by how sharp his teeth were—like a knife. She hadn’t felt much pain, yet her skin had been broken.

She decided not to argue with him. After all, she had bitten him last time. Their levels of perversity were evenly matched—tit for tat—so they were even.

Han Rao’s eyelashes fluttered as she wiped her mouth. Even in the pitch darkness, she could clearly see the blue veins on his neck.

Her breathing remained erratic, while he had already regained his composed demeanor, looking down at her with scrutinizing eyes.

After a long silence, he suddenly laughed and pronounced judgmentally: “Han Rao, you’ve got quite the nerve.”

It took Han Rao two seconds to react before she finally understood—his sudden outburst of anger tonight wasn’t because…

He couldn’t reach an agreement with Fan Peng, but it was because of her and Xie Yaochen.

She felt helpless—her luck was truly terrible.

After not seeing someone for ages, she happened to exchange a few extra words with them today, only to be spotted by Zhao Jichuan.

Would he really think she was cheating on him behind his back?

Han Rao’s eyelids twitched—she wouldn’t dare, not even if it killed her. Besides, something as morally bankrupt as two-timing was simply beyond her.

Four years ago I couldn’t do it, and I still can’t now.

“I swear it’s not what you think—would you believe me?” She pondered before asking, clutching his hand pleadingly.

Han Rao truly believed that Xie Yaochen and she were incompatible by fate. If he hadn’t been there tonight, she and Zhao Jichuan obviously wouldn’t have had to be at such loggerheads.

Zhao Jichuan chuckled darkly, “What do you mean by ‘like that’?”

He didn’t expect her to be so good-tempered as to willingly explain things to him.

In fact, he had witnessed most of her entanglement with Xie Yaochen. Though the distance made it impossible to hear their conversation clearly, Han Rao’s body language clearly conveyed her resistance and rejection.

Zhao Jichuan initially treated it as a joke, curious to uncover just how many secrets his Han Rao was hiding.

But the moment Xie Yaochen reached out to hold her, Zhao Jichuan’s expression turned cold without a trace.

Jealousy, envy—not quite, because he held no affection for Han Rao.

But possessiveness kept rearing its head.

In the end, no matter what, she is his woman—what does it mean to be entangled with someone else?

Zhao Jichuan flew into a rage, and poor Han Rao got caught in the crossfire, her lip bitten until it bled.

Han Rao pursed her lips and said firmly, “There’s absolutely no relationship between him and me now.”

“What about before?” He keenly caught the loophole in her words. Though he had some guesses, he still pressed for an answer.

Han Rao froze for a moment, her shoulders slumping as she lowered her gaze. “I don’t want to talk about the past.”

She truly didn’t want to mention the past, always feeling that past events were like a domino effect—once a crack appeared, everything would collapse, and all the bygone days would be dragged out completely.

Zhao Jichuan truly felt he should admire her backbone.

He let out a light scoff and didn’t press further, rolling down the window to tell Wang Jie, “Back to the hotel.”

The car jolted slightly as it rolled over the speed bump. Han Rao closed her eyes and pinched her thigh hard.

She knew she had messed things up again.

Over the past two years, she repeatedly convinced herself that the past was behind her, believing she had truly moved on.

Only she herself knew that she was just a coward—that psychological barrier had never truly been overcome, so it couldn’t be discussed.

She didn’t want to utter a single word—not to Xie Yaochen, Zhao Jichuan, or even her own mother.

Like a nightmare, it has become a knot in the heart.

So stubborn, isn’t it.

She was also very immature.

She made Zhao Jichuan angry again.

The car ride was silent all the way. Han Rao actually wanted to find a topic to show weakness and soften the mood, just laugh it off and move on.

After all, Zhao Jichuan had just helped her sign with the company today, securing such great resources for her.

But when the words reached her lips, she became mute, all her eloquence and charm utterly forgotten.

Han Rao felt the journey was unbearably long. In the latter half, her lower abdomen throbbed with needle-like pain as she leaned against the car window, her forehead beaded with cold sweat.

She clenched her teeth tightly on her lips, not uttering a sound.

Zhao Jichuan even thought she had fallen asleep with a carefree heart.

Until the car stopped in the hotel’s underground parking lot, Zhao Jichuan was about to get out.

Han Rao knew she wasn’t in any condition to perform tonight, so she wouldn’t go up and bother Zhao Jichuan’s sight. Pressing her lips together, she begged Wang Jie to make the effort of sending her home.

Zhao Jichuan noticed something was off in her voice. He bent down to tilt her small face upward—her complexion had turned slightly pale, and her hands were pressing tightly against her lower abdomen.

Zhao Jichuan had never really understood the concept of menstrual pain in women, always thinking it couldn’t possibly be as exaggerated as described—surely it wouldn’t kill anyone. In truth, most men fail to comprehend it because they’ve never experienced it themselves. Even some women don’t fully understand other women, for there’s no true empathy without firsthand experience.

But when he saw Han Rao at this moment, he suddenly remembered his own younger sister from childhood, who had once been in such excruciating pain, crying with snot and tears while calling out for her big brother.

She thought, she wasn’t much older than his sister.

The man’s heart suddenly softened, casting aside the earlier unpleasantness as he furrowed his brows. “Han Rao.”

He turned to Wang Jie and said they should go to the hospital.

Han Rao gripped his hand tightly. “It’s fine, no need to go to the hospital. I’m used to it—just take a pill and lie down for a while.”

Seeing his disbelief, she added, “I should be fine after tonight. It’s just this one day that hurts.”

Zhao Jichuan pondered for two seconds, got out of the car, walked around to the other side, and opened the door. He bent down and scooped her up in his arms.

Han Rao actually felt a bit uncomfortable—it wasn’t like the time they had sex, so why was he holding her?

Her body stiffened as she tentatively wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

She thought, at least for this moment, whether it was out of a sense of responsibility or kindness, she was moved.

Han Rao reached out to touch his Adam’s apple, but he scolded her, “If it doesn’t hurt, walk by yourself.”

Han Rao curled her lips, pressing her advantage as she lightly flicked her tongue against his Adam’s apple.

She said, “It hurts.”