Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 19 - She is My Girlfriend

July 11, 2025 Oyen 0 Comments

Happy Reading~
Chapter 19: She is My Girlfriend
 
“Last night, the top elite told you a bedtime story to lull you to sleep?”
 
By noon the next day, in the makeup room on set, Qin Chuan came to visit and looked momentarily shocked.
 
He Qingchi held a cup, lowered her head to take a sip of hot water, and her face flushed.
 
“He told you a kid’s bedtime story or an adult version?”
 
Qin Chuan leaned in with a mischievous wink. “Like, ‘Princess wants to become the beloved crown princess, but first, she needs to have his baby.’”
 
He Qingchi ignored his inappropriate innuendo. Tilting her head against the chair back, she recalled, “He told me a story about two little boys. I fell asleep.”
 
Last night, with her eyes closed, she had listened to Wen Shuchen’s calm and gentle voice—and just drifted off like that.
 
When she woke up in the morning, she saw her phone had automatically shut down—probably ran out of battery.
 
Qin Chuan watched her blushing cheeks, her lashes fluttering several times within a few seconds, and seemed to realize something: “You and that top elite—have you two gotten close?”
 
He Qingchi turned to him, lips clearly spitting out two words: “We haven’t!”
 
“Damn, He Qingchi, are you even human? Still hiding your relationship from me?”
 
“If I were dating someone, would I need to sneak around?”
 
He Qingchi gave him a look—figure it out yourself.
 
Qin Chuan got even more excited. “So, what stage are you two at now? Holding hands? Hugging? Has he kissed you—?”
 
Just as He Qingchi was about to respond, the door to the makeup room opened.
 
She looked over. Shu Tongyi walked in alone—no assistant in sight.
 
Qin Chuan’s last question hadn’t been particularly loud or soft, but it was clear enough to hear.
 
Shu Tongyi returned to her makeup station to grab something. Her beautiful face remained calm and cold.
 
He Qingchi took another sip of hot water slowly. Off-camera, the two of them never greeted each other, treating one another like invisible air. Glancing at the gossip-hungry Qin Chuan, she tossed him a vague reply without clarifying her relationship with Wen Shuchen: “Think what you want.”
 
Shu Tongyi got what she needed and left the room again.
 
Watching her retreating figure, He Qingchi felt some of the frustration in her chest dissolve. Back when Wen Shuchen hadn’t made anything official, and things between them were still undefined, Shu Tongyi had thrown around veiled comments and subtle digs that annoyed her endlessly. Now that the tables had turned, she finally got to return the favor—and it felt great.
 
Qin Chuan, oblivious to the subtle mind games between women, pulled out his phone and said, “Right, I actually came by today for something else—Qu Bixin just got back to the country. She’s throwing a flashy reunion banquet tonight at Penglai Palace, invited quite a few people, including you.”
 
He Qingchi’s phone was still off, so she hadn’t heard about this yet.
 
She looked at Qin Chuan’s phone, where the chat thread showed a profile picture of a young girl.
 
Short bobbed hair, neatly styled, framing a delicate face with a dimpled smile and a playful wink at the camera.
 
That haircut was hard to pull off—you needed small, refined features, a sharp chin, and a well-shaped nose to carry it well.
 
The girl in the profile picture? Perfectly suited. She looked pure and fresh.
 
He Qingchi glanced at it and looked away. “Her man got rich?”
 
“So are you going or not?” Qin Chuan asked.
 
He Qingchi didn’t answer right away.
 
She and Qu Bixin were born on the exact same day, month, and year. The He and Qu families were longtime family friends, which naturally meant they’d been compared to each other since childhood.
 
So anyone familiar with their social circle knew the truth: those two high-society beauties only maintained a fake friendship on the surface.
 
In reality, they couldn’t stand each other.
 
Four years ago, Qu Bixin fell for a penniless guy and raised hell to elope with him despite her family’s objections. Her father, eventually giving in out of love for his daughter, agreed to their engagement. The day after the wedding, Qu Bixin took her massive dowry and left the country with her fiancé. Since then, she’d completely vanished from their circle.
 
Now she suddenly reappeared—and He Qingchi’s first thought was: her fiancé must’ve gotten rich.
 
So this woman’s back to flaunt her success?
 
Qin Chuan, with his usual snark, said: “Qu Bixin’s clearly here to show off her husband. It’s been four years—she’s living her best life, and you’re still single, practically getting forced into marriage by your dad. Looks like you’ve already lost the race, huh? And if you want to fake a boyfriend for show, no one would believe it.”
 
“If you don’t go, she’ll definitely spread it around that the famous Miss He is too chicken to show up.”
 
“Why wouldn’t I go?”
 
He Qingchi said slowly, “I’ve never seen a nouveau riche up close before.”
 
That afternoon, she had an important scene to film—with Shu Tongyi.
 
On set, a crowd had gathered to watch. On the antique-style balcony, He Qingchi stood by the window in a begonia-red embroidered cheongsam. Her pale, slender arms leaned lazily against the frame, the curve of her body forming an elegant silhouette. The silk hem revealed long, smooth legs that made it hard to look away.
 
She was clearly born to wear a cheongsam—her figure and aura both top-notch.
 
The camera shifted to Shu Tongyi’s scene, focused only on her upper half.
 
Compared to He Qingchi’s curves and graceful posture, Shu Tongyi’s shots centered on her face. Dressed in an off-white cheongsam showing just her upper body, the cut still perfectly highlighted her feminine curves, making her appear extra slim.
 
From start to finish, the set remained utterly quiet.
 
The assistant director, watching two equally stunning women on camera, couldn’t help but praise:
“He Qingchi and Movie Queen Shu in the same frame—it’s visual heaven. I seriously want to ship them as a CP. Director Guo, once this film comes out, their looks alone will sweep in a wave of fans.”
 
Director Guo asked the cameraman to keep a photo of the two women in the same frame—hardly needed any retouching. He completely agreed with the assistant director’s praise.
 
After filming ended:
 
He Qingchi returned to the makeup room, took off the costume cheongsam, and changed into a dark green long dress that made her skin appear even more porcelain white.
 
Her brows and eyes were naturally delicate, and though she wore refined makeup, there wasn’t a trace of exaggeration. She examined herself in the mirror and picked up a lipstick to touch up her lips.
 
At 5:40 PM, Qin Chuan called.
 
Penglai Palace, private room on the fourth floor, left side.
 
When He Qingchi and Qin Chuan arrived, quite a few people were already present.
 
As she walked in, a woman in a lilac haute couture dress nudged Qu Bixin with her elbow and whispered, “Look who just walked in.”
 
Qu Bixin, holding a glass of red wine, turned around.
 
Her gaze locked with He Qingchi's—
 
Four years later, still just as annoying.
 
The same thought flashed through both of their minds. And in the next second, they walked toward each other with fake smiles, maintaining their ‘plastic sisterhood’ façade.
 
“He Qingchi!”
 
Every time Qu Bixin called her name in her naturally cutesy, doll-like voice, it sounded so soft and delicate that it gave the illusion she was whining coquettishly.
 
“It’s been so long! I heard Uncle He had to force you into hiding in Jiangcheng to avoid an arranged marriage?”
 
Wow. First sentence, and she’s already going for the jugular.
 
He Qingchi replied with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes: “Well, I’m not as capable as you, finding a man so young.”
 
Qu Bixin’s large black-and-white eyes blinked innocently, pretending not to catch the sarcasm. She gave a sweet smile: “My A-Fu has done quite well these years. He knows a lot of wealthy young heirs. Want me to introduce you to a few later?”
 
“What, your Shen Fu’s now rubbing elbows with the rich and powerful?”
 
He Qingchi raised her brows in mock surprise, then said in a syrupy fake tone: “Congrats! You’re finally able to get married.”
 
“Shen Fu and I are already registered.”
 
Qu Bixin lifted her delicate hand and showed off the wedding ring on her ring finger, flaunting like a giddy teenager: “You have to be my bridesmaid, okay? After all, we’ve known each other since we were kids—you’ll definitely give me your blessing, right?”
 
He Qingchi mentally blessed her entire family and rolled her eyes.
 
Shen Fu? That man looked cold and scheming from a mile away. The fact that he even married Qu Bixin was a miracle.
 
But on deeper thought—he probably had his sights set on the Qu family’s wealth.
 
Too bad Qu Bixin, the action-taker with a naturally manipulative streak and a hopeless romantic brain, couldn’t see through any of it.
 
“Oh right, I don’t think you’ve officially met my A-Fu yet.”
 
Qu Bixin clung to He Qingchi’s arm and refused to let go, continuing her husband-bragging marathon.
 
She pointed toward a group of people and spoke with saccharine sweetness when mentioning Shen Fu, enough to cause a wave of goosebumps.
 
“The one in the black shirt—that’s my husband. See him?”
 
He Qingchi followed her gaze. Near the glass wall stood a tall man, holding a wine glass with long fingers. His side profile was sharply defined, expression aloof, eyes half-lidded and distant. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses gave him a cold, ascetic air.
 
That was Shen Fu—
 
The very same man who, at Qu Bixin’s eighteenth birthday, had swept her off her feet, prompting her to ditch her heiress life to elope with him.
 
But the man next to Shen Fu looked... oddly familiar to He Qingchi.
 
“Don’t bother looking,” Qu Bixin said with cherry blossom pink lips curved in a smirk. “The guy standing beside Shen Fu is Jiangcheng’s top elite. Shen Fu spent two years pulling strings just to connect with him. They say he’s extremely picky with women—definitely not into your type…”
 
She paused for two seconds—clearly confident He Qingchi would get the implied insult—then added with faux innocence: “Anyway, he’d never be interested in someone like you.”
 
He Qingchi: …
 
Sorry, but Jiangcheng’s top elite is into me.
 
Qu Bixin called Shen Fu over and suddenly turned to He Qingchi in her doll-like voice again, carefully enunciating: “I’ll introduce you to Shen Fu, but don’t you dare try using him to get close to that elite. If you piss someone off, I won’t save face for you.”
 
Before He Qingchi could speak, Qu Bixin, in her 10cm heels, had already dashed toward her “beloved.”
 
The way she called out “A-Fu” in that syrupy tone—
 
She had clearly forgotten all those times she used to skip class, smoke, prop her legs on the desk, and curse people out in the same baby voice.
 
“A-Fu, this is the best friend I’ve told you about—He family’s famous lady, He Qingchi.” Qu Bixin’s voice was soft, her gaze tenderly fixed on Shen Fu, looking like she was head over heels in love.
 
He Qingchi got goosebumps again. She’d rather listen to Qu Bixin curse in her baby voice than endure this sugar overdose.
 
Qu Bixin didn’t care what He Qingchi’s expression was. After introducing her husband and bestie, she turned to another important guest in the room.
 
“Oh, and Mr. Wen, this is my—”
 
“I know her,” Wen Shuchen’s voice was calm and gentle as he cut her off. A subtle, warm smile appeared on his face, and his gaze never strayed from He Qingchi for even a second.
 
His fingers were long and graceful as he naturally reached for He Qingchi’s hand, taking control of the situation and introducing her himself: “She’s my girlfriend—He Qingchi.”

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