Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 22 - Met the parents
Chapter 22: Met the parents
‘What promise did we make in front of Grandma Bodhisattva when we were twelve? That was so many years ago!’
He Qingchi had long forgotten it completely, and who would've thought she'd be reminded of it in such a moment.
She couldn’t even meet Wen Shuchen’s eyes anymore. Her long lashes lowered, casting half a shadow, and an unprecedented awkwardness flushed her face.
One second. Two seconds passed.
He Qingchi snuck a glance at him again.
Wen Shuchen, having taken the medicine, had returned to normal. He leaned back in the seat with a relaxed posture. His handsome features were softened in the ambient glow reflecting through the car window. He wasn’t smiling, but his gaze clearly rested quietly on her.
He Qingchi tightened her grip on the phone and broke the silence first. “Did you hear everything?”
Wen Shuchen considered the meaning behind her question for a few seconds before replying, “I can choose to forget a few keywords.”
He really knew how to comfort a woman. He even added gently, “You must’ve been very cute as a child.”
Since he’d already heard it all, He Qingchi figured there was no point hiding it. She might as well be upfront. “I’m going to talk to Qu Bixin for a bit. You sit quietly.”
Wen Shuchen nodded, very gentlemanly and not interrupting.
He Qingchi opened the voice chat and couldn’t hold back her retaliation: [Qu Bixin, you eloped with a man for four years and you dare bring up Grandma Bodhisattva to me?]
Qu Bixin immediately shot back with another voice message. Her sweet babyish tone even had a playful hum to it: [Dead woman, watch your words. Shen Fu and I were engaged when we left, it was legitimate. And second, who told you I’m no longer pure?]
Even after four years of living together under an engagement, she and Shen Fu had never crossed that line?
He Qingchi was surprised. When did Qu Bixin become so… wholesome?
She didn’t ask further, but Qu Bixin sent another message: [A-Fu cherishes my delicate little body too much…]
Delivered in that same sickly sweet, self-loving tone.
He Qingchi wanted to block her. Couldn’t be bothered.
She glanced at the time—getting late—and realized the car was still parked outside the Penglai Palace.
At that moment, Wen Shuchen said just in time, “I’ll take you back to the hotel before ten.”
Given their current relationship, he had no reason to make her stay the night.
He Qingchi also believed that a Wen Shuchen who’d taken his medicine wouldn’t do anything ridiculous.
The driver returned to the car, cigarette in pocket.
On the ride back, she and Wen Shuchen didn’t touch again—not because they were avoiding intimacy, just that neither of them was the type to be affectionate in front of others.
He Qingchi let her gaze wander out to the night scene, then back to Wen Shuchen.
He was holding his phone with his slender, fair hand, doing something she couldn’t see.
She blinked curiously.
Wen Shuchen glanced up, lips curving slightly. He offered her the screen.
He Qingchi leaned in without hesitation. Her face froze. “Why is my contact name in your WeChat saved as ‘Little Twelve’?”
Wen Shuchen put away his phone, replying calmly, “Think for yourself.”
“…” How am I supposed to think that through?
He Qingchi had a simple thought process, so she blurted, “My family doesn’t rank children by number. Could it be… I’m your twelfth girlfriend?”
For some reason, she felt a little sour.
Wen Shuchen's lips curved faintly, and in a teasing tone that didn’t make her uncomfortable, he said, “You could trade me something to find out.”
Hearing this, He Qingchi instantly remembered how he’d once demanded one of her shirts. She quickly said, “I’m filming with the crew, I don’t have time to go to my grandma’s to make another shirt for you.”
Wen Shuchen gently took her hand resting on her knee, and lowered his voice: “I don’t want a shirt this time.”
Then what?
He Qingchi looked at his handsome face with her clear, dark eyes.
From an angle the driver couldn’t see, Wen Shuchen leaned in close to her ear and whispered low enough only the two of them could hear: “Let me come on you…”
The car suddenly braked hard, throwing He Qingchi forward unexpectedly—so she only caught the first half of the sentence.
She steadied herself with a hand on the car door.
The driver apologized and soon resumed smooth driving.
He Qingchi couldn’t help but shoot Wen Shuchen a glare.
How dare he say something like that!
Wen Shuchen looked a bit surprised, as if he hadn’t expected to be interrupted.
Then, realizing just how ambiguous his words had sounded, he gave a slightly embarrassed cough and started to explain: “Qingchi, I meant…”
“Don’t say it. I know.”
He Qingchi cut him off, her expression deadly serious. “You heard what Qu Bixin said earlier. She and I made a vow in front of Grandma Bodhisattva when we were twelve—to save ourselves for our wedding night. Don’t even think about it. Not even a little!”
Wen Shuchen might’ve had, for the first time in his life, no way to properly explain himself.
He had just wanted to say he was coming up to her hotel room… to ask for a glass of water.
After that little episode, as soon as the car pulled up at the hotel, He Qingchi jumped out without looking back.
She didn’t even spare a glance at the man inside who had so boldly claimed to be her boyfriend.
Her heels clicked sharply as she stormed into the elevator, and only when she stood alone inside did she realize her high heels were wobbling.
He Qingchi leaned against the wall and glanced at her reflection in the mirrored glass.
Honestly… not that disheveled… right?
The blush on her cheeks was a little too obvious.
He Qingchi quickly looked away. With a soft ‘ding,’ the elevator doors slowly opened.
She walked toward her suite, and just as she was entering, Wen Shuchen sent her a message: [The word ‘lover’ is twelve strokes in total.]
He Qingchi gently closed the door, eyes lowered as she stared at the message.
The word “lover” has twelve strokes, so that’s why his note for her was “Twelve”?
Was that what he meant?
Her lips curved into a smile. As if all the earlier awkwardness and embarrassment had vanished, she walked to the sofa, sat down, and replied: [Then why is it little twelve?]
Wen Shuchen: [Because you’re not an adult yet.]
He Qingchi: [Gege (big brother), I’m already twenty-three.]
After she sent the reply, she set her phone on the coffee table, hugged her knees, rested her delicate chin on them, and quietly waited to see how Wen Shuchen would coax her next.
Chatting with him had become something she genuinely enjoyed.
He really did know how to sweet-talk a girl.
Two minutes later, Wen Shuchen replied with just a few words: [Without a wedding night, it doesn’t count.]
——
So it doesn’t count. In his eyes, she was still a little girl. That’s why the nickname was “Little Twelve.”
He Qingchi bit her lip gradually, word-for-word interpreting the deeper meaning hidden in his words.
She couldn’t handle a man like Wen Shuchen — someone so subtly direct.
Just when you thought he was all gentlemanly charm, he’d suddenly catch you off guard with flirtatious teasing, making your cheeks flush and heart race.
He Qingchi didn’t remember ever being so easily embarrassed.
But in front of him now, she really had become a little girl.
After that night, it was as if their relationship had been silently confirmed.
He Qingchi remained with the film crew, working hard on set during the day and locking herself in the hotel at night to practice her acting. Her life was tough and monotonous.
Wen Shuchen, meanwhile, was constantly on business trips. Even though they hadn’t met again, he made sure to send her three texts every day.
Reminding her to rest, to eat properly.
That single pink rose also arrived in her hands each day, like clockwork.
He Qingchi accepted it openly. But since it was always just one flower, always delivered by the florist, gossip began to circulate within the crew.
The first to bring it up to her was the male lead of the drama — Duan Jinfan.
“The crew’s saying you might be getting chased by some poor guy. Sending you a cheap rose every day for over half a month straight — is that true?” Duan Jinfan, although a bit of a mama’s boy, wasn’t a bad guy.
He had a good impression of He Qingchi and warned her kindly, “You haven’t officially debuted under Director Guo yet. Better not ruin your future with some tabloid romance.”
He Qingchi was outside basking in the sun, her long hair draped lazily as she fiddled with it. She said slowly, “With how creative those women are, our screenwriter can retire.”
Duan Jinfan couldn’t quite figure out where she stood on the matter: “Doesn’t your agent manage you?”
He Qingchi didn’t even want an assistant, choosing instead to stay with the crew freely.
Her agency didn’t want the trouble either and had basically thrown her into the closed filming environment to fend for herself.
As for Li Ling, her agent, she had too many artists on her plate to keep up.
He Qingchi saw Duan Jinfan’s serious expression and deliberately teased, “Mm... my agent said as long as I don’t get pregnant, it’s all manageable.”
“Your agent’s that chill?” Duan Jinfan was amazed.
His own agent was his mother, who even checked every message he sent to female actresses.
He Qingchi continued her nonsense with a straight face: “Yes. She even told me to try seducing you.”
“…” Duan Jinfan instinctively stepped back.
He Qingchi burst out laughing. “Relax, I’ve already got a man.”
Duan Jinfan: “The one sending the rose?”
He Qingchi rested her chin in one hand, smiling silently without denying it.
Influenced by the rumors flying around the crew, Duan Jinfan’s imagination took off — picturing a rising starlet being tricked by a freeloading playboy. His concern was written all over his face: “Last night, my mom said you’re definitely one of the upcoming stars in the entertainment industry. Don’t let a guy ruin that.”
His sincere advice barely registered with He Qingchi.
Just then, a crew assistant approached. “Miss He, someone is here to see you.”
She followed the assistant’s gaze.
A middle-aged man in an old-fashioned suit stood outside. His face was unfamiliar, and his identity unknown.
He Qingchi got up and walked over.
“I’m the butler of the Wen residence.”
The man said politely but firmly, leaving no room for refusal. “Mr. Wen would like to invite you to the family estate. Miss He, please come with me.”
He Qingchi stood still, puzzled.
Mr. Wen? The only one who’d be addressed that formally by the Wen family butler... would be Wen Shuchen’s father.
No way.
Was she already going to meet the parents? She wasn’t mentally prepared at all.
“Miss He?” The butler, sensing her nerves, smiled kindly. “Sir just wants to meet you.”
He Qingchi quickly regained her composure. After all, she was from a prestigious family and wouldn’t show petty nervousness.
She smiled gracefully, putting on the signature smile of a He family socialite. “Of course. I was just thinking it’s time I paid Mr. Wen a visit. Thank you for coming to fetch me.”
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