Chapter 4 A Knife “Zhao Jichuan, don’t think too badly of me…

Han Rao hesitated for only a moment before suppressing her fear of the unknown. She nodded with a bright smile, even deliberately opening the car door ahead of him.

The pace of this development was truly unexpected, but she could accept it. She couldn’t have just agreed to the deal and then back out now; besides, he hadn’t explicitly said what he intended to do. Being fussy at this point would really spoil the mood.

Zhao Jichuan was once again captivated by the woman before him. He turned his head to watch as she lifted the hem of her skirt with one hand, stepped down with one foot, and straightened up. At that moment, she deliberately glanced back at him, the corners of her eyebrows raised, full of aggression.

Their eyes met, and Han Rao shrugged at him, adopting an attitude of letting him do as he pleased.

Zhao Jichuan raised his eyebrows slightly. He originally had something to do early tomorrow morning, but now that the night was deep, he didn’t intend to have a deep conversation with her tonight, in case something really happened.

After all, when dealing with fresh prey, you need plenty of time, patience, and the art of teasing bit by bit, slowly dismantling her into your grasp to reap the greatest pleasure.

But at this very moment, her open and slightly provocative stance made him change his mind instantly.

He watched her hand resting on the car door, the diamonds on her nails reflecting the light. Perhaps their gazes had intertwined for too long; Han Rao was the first to give in, unwilling to continue the entanglement with him. She gently applied force, and the car door slammed shut with a “bang.”

Zhao Jichuan only felt that through the privacy screen, the woman’s figure gradually darkened. She took two steps and moved out of his sight.

What remained vivid in his memory in the end were her crimson lips.

The soft lips he had kissed.

The man withdrew his gaze and stepped out of the car. He saw Han Rao holding her handbag and the cumbersome hem of her skirt in one hand, and the pair of black high heels with red soles in the other, her bare, pristine feet touching the floor.

“Too hot?” His tone carried a hint of teasing, teasing her for being so carefree—wasn’t she afraid he would dislike her for being too casual?

Han Rao let out a light sigh, lazily explaining, “The shoes are uncomfortable, my feet feel like they’re about to break. Besides, I’m feeling very dizzy and afraid I’ll fall.”

Zhao Jichuan looked at her coldly as she spun her lies. Even if she had been truly drunk when she left the bar, she should be sober by now. Otherwise, how could she have been so coherent when negotiating terms with him in the car just now?

Han Rao saw that he remained silent and thought that if he wouldn’t eat the hard stuff, he’d have to take the soft. So she let down the hem of her skirt, walked around to the back of the car, gently looped her arm around his, and calmly tugged at his sleeve. “President Zhao, I’m really dizzy. Could you support me?”

Zhao Jichuan’s heart suddenly softened.

How to put it—she had a certain charm. Speaking softly and acting coy was definitely more appealing than puffing out her chest and scolding him.

He liked her vulnerability, raised his hand to wrap around her slender waist, and let her lean against him.

At this moment, he seemed like King Zhou, bewitched by Daji, willingly indulging her to see what kind of mischief she could stir up next.

Moreover, he had been drunk before and knew that when a person is numbed by alcohol, it’s only the body that loses control; the mind is mostly still clear.

So, he could understand her saying she couldn’t stand steadily.

Han Rao leaned against him naturally, following his every step into the elevator. Out of his sight, she rolled her eyes, feeling that this posture was extremely awkward.

Is she like a little bird clinging to someone?

Her wings are about to be awkwardly broken.

The moment the elevator doors closed, Zhao Jichuan raised his hand to play with her hair and asked softly, “Why aren’t you sticking to President Du like this tonight?”

“He must be eager to win the beauty’s heart.”

Actually, he was quite curious. She was so aloof and high-minded at the drinking party, so how did she suddenly change her tune and agree to play along with him? And she did it pretty well.

Han Rao’s back stiffened, and the hand that was holding his arm lost its strength. She found Zhao Jichuan really annoying—he always brought up the worst topics, and his tone was so unpleasant, full of condescension, clearly looking down on someone like her who wanted to take shortcuts by improper means.

But if given a choice, who would want to please such an annoying man like him?

Han Rao forced a smile, her expression stiff as she sarcastically said, “How could President Du offer better conditions than President Zhao? How could President Du be younger and more handsome than President Zhao? How could President Du…”

Before Han Rao could finish her parallel sentence, Zhao Jichuan already detected the sarcastic tone in her voice.

He slightly turned his body and lifted her chin, “Are you angry?”

A trace of grievance flickered in Han Rao’s eyes. She said blankly, “I’m not angry. Isn’t Mr. Zhao just joking with me?”

Zhao Jichuan stared at her face for a moment, watching the moisture in her eyes gradually dry up, her long eyelashes fluttering.

Suddenly, the elevator dinged, arriving at the thirty-third floor.

Zhao Jichuan was too lazy to say anything more, released her chin, and was the first to get up and leave.

Han Rao let out a light breath, her hands clutching the bag tightening unconsciously, then she quietly followed behind him, very consciously entering the room with him.

The moment she stepped out of the elevator, she vaguely saw in the reflected shadow that her makeup was smudged.

　　-

This is an executive suite where Zhao Jichuan usually stays, and Han Rao could sense a bit of a lived-in atmosphere here.

Although not heavy, when her gaze fell on the ashtray on the coffee table and saw the two cigarette butts left inside, she could still tell that this was a place he often stayed.

Isn’t it said online that wealthy singles prefer living in hotels because they find it convenient and comfortable?

Han Rao didn’t expect that today she would also have the fortune to verify this saying.

Zhao Jichuan was busy all day today. In the evening, someone called him and said attached..

Recently, there was a drinking party, inviting him to relax and have some fun.

Zhao Jichuan originally went with the attitude of watching a show, after all, these kinds of events were lively and full of fun. He wasn’t a good person; beneath his well-dressed exterior lay an innate sense of nobility.

He was born standing at the top of the pyramid, having grown tired of playing with everything, so he liked to ponder human nature, enjoyed watching the people at the bottom struggle for those trifling gains, tear each other apart, betray themselves, and ultimately numb themselves.

Having seen this kind of scene many times, he felt no sympathy at all; instead, he found it quite entertaining.

Unfortunately, today was an accident. Not only did he feel sorry for Han Rao, but he also had the intention to offer some advice. It was just that she was too dull to catch the meaning behind his words.

But what was even more outrageous was that he had actually developed feelings for her and took her back.

The man was a bit tired at the moment. As soon as he entered, he threw his jacket over the back of the sofa and sat down lazily, unbuttoning his cuffs.

He glanced at the woman still standing calmly by the door, touching up her makeup in the mirror. The moment she came in, she acted as if she were at home, casually tossing her high heels by the door.

Han Rao’s touch-up was practiced, gently pressing the powder puff against her cheek. Just as she was putting the compact back into her bag and reaching for her lipstick, the man interrupted her.

He called her name, “Han Rao, come here.”

What is there to touch up on lipstick?

Anyway, it will be completely devoured soon enough.

Hán Ráo heard this, lifted her foot onto the soft carpet, and walked toward him step by step.

In just a few short steps, many thoughts flashed through her mind, but she pushed them all aside one by one. She convinced herself to accept her choice, accept her fate, and also accept her rebirth.

Han Rao came over and naturally stood in front of him, one leg kneeling on the sofa, looking down at him from above.

It was not until this moment that Zhao Jichuan realized her hair was actually quite long, enough to completely block his view. Through the gaps in the strands, the pale yellow light above cast a hint of ambiguity.

Han Rao’s breathing was very soft, barely audible, brushing against his face and causing his own breath to falter.

Han Rao lowered her eyes and saw his Adam’s apple moving continuously. Even though he didn’t speak or give her permission to continue, his subconscious action seemed like a signal, hinting for her to go on.

Han Rao casually tossed her handbag and lipstick onto the nearby sofa, leaned down, resting her hands on his shoulders, then went to kiss his lips, gently sucking and teasing.

She liked these gentle, lingering kisses—one kiss, then opening her eyes to watch his expression. She could gain quite a bit of flirtatious pleasure from it.

Just once or twice is enough.

But she kept doing this, and Zhao Jichuan instead felt that she was deliberately wasting time.

His eyes darkened as he pulled her waist into a tight embrace, lifting her onto his lap. The movement was a bit rough; her lipstick fell to the floor, and the clutch she hadn’t fastened in time was knocked open, its contents spilling out one after another.

This was originally just an accidental movement; Zhao Jichuan didn’t notice. His large hand wrapped around her waist, intending to kiss the corner of her lips, wanting to explore deeper.

As a result, Han Rao’s reaction made the man wary; she was distracted, indifferent to his kisses, and her gaze kept drifting to the left.

Just as he was about to pry open her teeth, Han Rao dodged his lips and gently pushed his chest, saying, “Let me pick up something first.”

This gesture carried a hint of reluctance mixed with temptation.

But her voice trembled slightly, not as if it were caused by emotion.

Zhao Jichuan’s eyes darkened as he watched her with her back turned, crouching on the ground, hurriedly tidying up the mess scattered around.

Han Rao, illuminated by the light, looked at the last item that had fallen to the ground, clenched her fist, relaxed, and finally gritted her teeth as she stuffed it into her bag.

Perhaps she was too entangled in her thoughts, and the man beside her had long seen through the signs.

When she turned back with a bright smile, he suddenly reached out his hand, “Give it here.”

“Hmm?”

“Hand it over.” He emphasized again, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Han Rao pressed her lips tightly and handed him her handbag.

Zhao Jichuan unclasped the buckle and took out the items one by one. Besides her lipstick and powder for touch-ups, there was also a fruit knife inside, with a blade about eight or nine centimeters long.

Zhao Jichuan lowered his eyes to look at the brown fruit knife, raised his hand to open the outer sheath, and gently rubbed the blade with his fingertip.

He looked at her, the chill in his eyes unmistakable.

The atmosphere in the room dropped a degree accordingly.

Han Rao tugged at her moist lips, wondering why it felt like she was about to harm him. The mood was far too serious.

She watched him fiddle with the knife, her head starting to ache again, feeling somewhat dazed. She had indeed been thinking about the self-defense item in her bag, but she never intended to use it on Zhao Jichuan.

She just had a previous bad experience and didn’t want to be violated against her will, so she carried something for self-defense, just in case. But if it came to actually stabbing someone with a knife, she wouldn’t dare, nor had she ever thought about it.

Han Rao looked at Zhao Jichuan’s face, which had turned as dark as a line, knowing he was clearly misunderstanding her.

“I’m not defending myself against you, and I wouldn’t dare,” she explained under the guidance of reason. “Besides, we had a good conversation in the car. You know I have no motive to hurt you.”

Seeing that he remained silent, Han Rao felt a bit tired and deliberately gave up, saying, “If you don’t believe me, Mr. Zhao, you can call the police.”

Zhao Jichuan laughed angrily at her words. Did she think this was a game of pretend? She kept threatening to call the police—did she think the police station was run by her family?

However, this really did put a damper on things, extinguishing his enthusiasm for her tonight.

Han Rao knew that wealthy people valued their lives more; after all, they had more pleasures to enjoy while alive, unlike ordinary people like her who had to endure hardships at different stages of life.

But she didn’t realize that Zhao Jichuan was so sensitive because people like them were more like living targets—standing out invited trouble, and they could attract hatred for no reason, especially when making enemies through business dealings.

Take his younger brother Zhao Jizhou, for example. His brother is two years younger than him. When he was eight, during a business war, he was actually kidnapped. Fortunately, he was lucky and came back alive, but since then, his personality became gloomy.

Zhao Jichuan put the protective cover back on the fruit knife. He doubted Han Rao had the courage for something like that. But suddenly he thought, today she was probably defending herself against President Du.

“Better to shatter like jade than to remain whole like tile.” This phrase suddenly popped into Zhao Jichuan’s mind. He looked at her, unknowingly growing a bit more interested in her.

Of course, he showed no sign of this thought, still keeping her guessing.

Today, Han Rao truly experienced how exhausting it is to get along with someone like Zhao Jichuan. He is suspicious, his emotions change rapidly, and he doesn’t easily trust others, making it impossible for her to figure him out.

She knew this knife had pulled down his defenses, adding another layer of distance to their already emotionless relationship.

He would probably tell her to get lost.

Only this one thought remained in Han Rao’s mind.

But suddenly, she felt a bit unwilling. She set aside her pride, tried to please him, let him kiss her, and he agreed to her terms. If it all ended because of this one knife, her sunk cost would be far too high.

Han Rao was unwilling.

She bit her lip, bent down to squat in front of him, showing a submissive posture, took his hand, pulled the knife away, and threw it on the coffee table. Tilting her head up, she explained, “Zhao Jichuan, don’t think so badly of me.”

Zhao Jichuan curled his lips; he found her truly amusing. She seemed to be flattering him, yet deliberately mustered the courage to call his name.

I have to admit, this move of hers really worked.

The snow between the man’s brows melted a bit. He turned her hand over and held her chin, examining her closely. “Then what do you mean?”

Han Rao had to admit, when she was flirting with him just now, she had indeed lost focus, tilting her head and thinking about the fallen fruit knife.

But she didn’t want to admit it to him herself, making her already tarnished reputation even worse.

Han Rao quickly thought on her feet, lowered her eyes, picked up the rummaged-through bag, unzipped the inner compartment, and pulled out three silver-packaged condoms.

“I was actually thinking about this.” Her ears flushed slightly.

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