Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 25 - His handwriting was warm and elegant, with a graceful strength, as he signed the marriage agreement first
Chapter 25: His handwriting was warm and elegant, with a graceful strength, as he signed the marriage agreement first
Wen Shuchen’s private villa covered a large area. The whole house had two floors. Since He Qingchi had nothing to do, she wandered around a bit. She didn’t go into the master bedroom, but she did find a large study next door. It resembled a private library, with exquisite and tasteful décor. The walls were lined with shelves full of books, and the desk stood in the center, clean and orderly—just like his usual style.
She picked out a book and curled up on a sofa near the floor-to-ceiling window, tucking her legs up as she bowed her head to read quietly.
Time slipped by unnoticed. When she finally looked up, it was already dark outside. At the doorway of the study, Song Chao’s voice sounded: “Miss He, what would you like for dinner?”
He Qingchi wasn’t picky with food, and with a chef on standby 24/7—on par with those at five-star hotels—any dish could be tailored to her taste, even if she normally wouldn’t like it.
She told Song Chao that a simple bowl of clear soup noodles would do. Then she went downstairs and sat on the sofa.
The chef worked quickly. The clear soup noodles were fragrant, with an egg and vegetables, light but flavorful. Song Chao hovered nearby, nagging her like a professional nanny, “Miss He, you must eat well, or I’ll end up being put on leave again.”
He Qingchi picked up the chopsticks and took a bite, frowning a little: “Again?”
“…” Song Chao wanted to swallow his words.
Truth was, He Qingchi didn’t have much of an appetite.
Something was weighing on her mind. Her phone stayed quiet—no flood of calls from the He family.
That kind of unnatural calm didn’t match her deadbeat father’s usual character.
After just a few bites, she put her chopsticks down.
Song Chao looked conflicted and couldn’t help asking, “You’re not eating anymore?”
He Qingchi slowly wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin and gave him a look: “Girls have to maintain their figure. No need to eat too much.”
Song Chao couldn’t exactly say she had a great figure—if he said that, he might end up on leave again—so he just switched to a flattering tone and said, “Miss He, you’re not fat at all.”
“Mhm, all thanks to my iron willpower. I never overeat.” He Qingchi had no appetite and didn’t want to hear more of his chatter.
She folded the napkin neatly and placed it to the side, glancing toward the front door of the villa, wondering why Wen Shuchen hadn’t come back yet.
This kind of waiting wasn’t exactly anxious—but it wasn’t pleasant either.
Then Song Chao suddenly dropped a bold question: “Miss He, are you missing President Wen?”
He Qingchi immediately turned her head, eyes wide: “Secretary Song, what exactly is your job around Wen Shuchen?”
She’d wanted to ask ever since he admitted to prepping hotel rooms and single-use… items for Wen Shuchen.
“My main responsibilities are arranging President Wen’s daily life, rest schedule, and official events.”
Afraid she might not understand, Song Chao added proudly, “People say only his bodyguards know his itinerary, but that’s not true—I’m the one who gives it to them.”
Apparently, his position wasn’t low. He was quite a key figure in Wen Shuchen’s inner circle.
He Qingchi’s curiosity flared. She glanced at him mischievously, lips curling with a smile: “So have any socialites tried to bribe you?”
“Bribe me for what?” Did he really have that kind of market value?
“To get Wen Shuchen’s hotel room number… to stage some romantic encounter.”
He Qingchi’s dark eyes stayed on his face, watching his suddenly tense expression. With her calm smile, she looked very mischievous. She even coaxed: “You can tell me privately. I won’t snitch.”
Yeah, right!
Song Chao flashed his perfect white teeth in a grin. “Our President Wen isn’t that kind of man—and neither am I.”
He Qingchi rested her chin on her palm, watching him pretend, when suddenly they heard the sound of a car pulling up outside the villa.
At 8:30 p.m., Wen Shuchen finally arrived.
He stepped slowly into the living room, removing his suit jacket and handing it to Song Chao. His deep gaze swept over, voice calm and even: “Finished dinner?”
He Qingchi instinctively sat up straighter and nodded.
Wen Shuchen didn’t immediately mention the Wen estate. Instead, he came over to the sofa.
Song Chao immediately said, “President Wen, I’ll ask the chef to prepare dinner.”
“No need. You can go.” Wen Shuchen’s tone was indifferent.
Song Chao got the hint and left the living room to give them space.
The silence that followed was awkward. He Qingchi looked at his side profile, partially blurred under the light, and gently asked, “Did you eat at the Wen’s estate?”
But then, thinking of how little his stepmother likely cared for him, she changed her mind and said, “Maybe we should have Secretary Song prepare something…”
Wen Shuchen turned to look at her, and a faint smile curved at the corner of his eyes.
He Qingchi immediately shut her mouth. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, only kept in touch via WeChat. Now, suddenly being alone together felt unfamiliar and awkward—especially saying caring things face to face.
She lowered her lashes and saw Wen Shuchen reach out and lift the bowl of noodles.
She quickly warned, “I already ate from that!”
Wen Shuchen picked up the chopsticks, his smile and warm tone catching her off guard: “So can I have the rest?”
He Qingchi frowned slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed. “You’re not grossed out?”
“You’re my girlfriend. Why would I be?” Wen Shuchen replied as he began eating from her leftover bowl of noodles.
It hadn’t gone cold yet, and though he was always a gentleman, men still ate faster than women.
He Qingchi fell silent, quietly waiting for him to finish eating.
Watching him use the same pair of chopsticks she had, her heart unexpectedly skipped a beat. She couldn’t quite tell what that feeling was—just a fleeting emotion that disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Lowering her gaze, deep in thought, she sat very close to him and gently rested her head on his shoulder. Her long, silky black hair draped to her waist, strands brushing against his shirt.
It was the first time she had ever taken the initiative to get this close to him.
Wen Shuchen paused mid-bite, then set the bowl and chopsticks back on the coffee table.
Turning his head, he gazed intently at her delicate and clean face, as if trying to see through her thoughts.
“Qingchi.”
She looked up at the sound of his low, steady voice.
Wen Shuchen reached out with his long, pale fingers to gently hold her hand, his expression focused and calm. “I’m sorry. Talking about this now might put pressure on you…”
He hadn’t even said it yet, and her fingertips already trembled—the pressure had arrived.
His grip remained gentle but firm, not letting go. He continued, “Let’s get married. Okay?”
He Qingchi’s eyes slowly widened. Under the lights, her expression froze, unsure of what to do.
Her fingertips still pressed against the warmth of his palm, his deep voice echoing beside her.
Marriage…
Just two months ago, that word had felt a million miles away.
Now it was right in front of her—clearly, solemnly spoken by the man before her.
She couldn’t make sense of her emotions—confused and tangled.
Nervously, she spoke, her voice unsteady, “Marriage? Isn’t that a bit too fast?”
“If you think it’s fast, we can keep it private,” Wen Shuchen offered, as if making a compromise.
He Qingchi asked dryly, “Did something happen at the Wen estate? Your father and stepmother both want us to marry, and you…”
“What I want has nothing to do with my father,” he replied calmly.
Under the warm light, his expression was unwavering. “No matter what, I want you to trust me.”
He Qingchi knew well—there was nothing about her that Wen Shuchen would want to exploit.
For money? The Wen family’s wealth completely overshadowed the He family.
For beauty? With Wen Shuchen’s looks and his status as a top-tier elite, what woman was out of his reach?
So she couldn’t understand why he wanted to get married…
“The lawyer is waiting outside.”
Wen Shuchen said steadily, his eyes on her. “Just nod, okay?”
His voice was so gentle it cut to the bone. It left He Qingchi dazed, her breathing slightly quickened. “You decided this on your way home?”
Wen Shuchen didn’t deny it, coaxing her softly, “Only if you nod.”
Honestly, when he said that, He Qingchi had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.
He had already brought the lawyer into the house, and he was still pretending it depended on her nod.
“Okay?” Wen Shuchen asked again, even softer.
There was no one around to help her now. The living room was empty. She regretted letting Song Chao leave earlier.
Now, alone, facing this man who was gently pressuring her to nod, she felt something wavering inside her.
Even if she didn’t agree tonight, the Wen family had already sent someone to her home to propose.
That meant their relationship could no longer be hidden from the He family.
She could already imagine her father, upon hearing the news, wanting to pack her off to Wen Shuchen’s house immediately, willing to throw in a dowry just to ensure she got married—as if afraid she would stay single forever.
And all these deep misunderstandings? They stemmed from that malicious woman Qu Bixin, who had fabricated rumors years ago. Just to elope with Shen Fu, she’d lied and claimed she had something with He Qingchi. She even threatened to come out publicly if anyone in the family tried to stop her.
Compared to that penniless man, the Qu family absolutely couldn’t accept the scandal of their daughter publicly coming out with a He family heiress.
Qu Bixin got her wish and ran off with Shen Fu, leaving He Qingchi to face the gossip and realization from those around her all alone.
Just thinking about it gave He Qingchi a headache. Her father clearly still believed those lies Qu Bixin had told. Unless she actually married a man and had children, she would never clear her name.
She stayed silent for a long time, then pulled herself from the past, looking at the man in front of her—so patient, gentle, and considerate.
She bit her lip, then asked Wen Shuchen seriously, “Even if we’re not deeply in love, and even if we might get divorced one day—you won’t regret this?”
Wen Shuchen smiled then, every word steady and firm: “If I marry you, I won’t regret it.”
He Qingchi gave a small nod, then tried to lay everything out clearly, trying to stay calm—like she was negotiating a business deal. She even cleared her throat: “You’ve looked into my background, right? You must know… I came to Jiangcheng because my family was forcing me to marry. Rather than wait to be assigned someone by the He family, I’d rather choose someone I’m satisfied with myself.”
She agreed.
—She personally agreed to the marriage.
Wen Shuchen understood exactly what she meant.
He Qingchi was doing her best to appear composed and mature, constantly trying to rationalize this reckless, bold decision—to hand her marriage over to Wen Shuchen.
Let’s just get married—after all, she had to find someone to marry anyway.
Yes… better to pick the best one to marry.
Wen Shuchen called in the team of lawyers waiting outside the villa, saying they needed to sign some agreements.
He Qingchi watched a few sharply dressed men in suits walk in, holding briefcases and documents, their attitudes strictly professional. She felt a bit nervous, but thankfully, Wen Shuchen thoughtfully poured her a glass of water.
After a sip, feeling slightly calmer, she asked, “Should we inform the people at the Wen estate?”
After all, his father had mentioned earlier that next Wednesday was an auspicious day for a wedding.
She hadn’t expected Wen Shuchen to move even faster than his father.
His voice was steady, emotionless: “I’ve already discussed the marriage with my father. If you don’t want to visit the Wen estate in the future, you can ignore anyone they send to pick you up.”
Seeing his firm attitude, He Qingchi didn’t press the matter.
The legal team quickly organized both prenuptial and postnuptial agreements and handed them to Wen Shuchen.
He Qingchi glanced at the thick stack of documents and thought her hand might go numb from all the signing.
Wen Shuchen signed everything without a change in expression. His handwriting was smooth and refined—clearly someone with deep skill.
He carefully sorted the contracts and handed her copies, patiently explaining each one to her.
He Qingchi didn’t have any assets in her name, so there was nothing he could take from her even in the event of a divorce. Her handwriting, neat and elegant thanks to her strict upbringing, looked well matched beside Wen Shuchen’s on the paper.
After a while, he handed her one more document: a Wen Group equity agreement.
At first, He Qingchi didn’t even look and was about to sign, but her lashes flickered across the page, and she froze.
“Wen Group equity?” Her hand trembled so much she could barely hold the pen, her face stunned.
He was just… handing over part of the company?
Wen Shuchen remained calm, his voice low: “It’s what my grandfather left for his granddaughter-in-law before he passed.”
Now that they’d signed the marriage agreement, she was officially the Wen family’s daughter-in-law and eligible to inherit his grandfather’s estate.
He Qingchi hadn’t expected that the grandfather she’d never met would care so much about Wen Shuchen’s future wife.
Wen Group shares were worth more than gold.
Wen Shuchen gently adjusted her grip on the pen and leaned close, reminding her softly, “Qingchi, the lawyers are still waiting.”
His breath was warm on her ear, making her flush slightly as she glanced at the polite smiles of the lawyers.
If she signed this paper…
She and Wen Shuchen would be bound for life.
“Can I refuse this part of the will from your grandfather?”
Wen Shuchen answered gently, “You’re the legal heir. There’s no need to feel pressured.”
That one word—legal—left her with no reason to refuse.
She took a few deep breaths, steeled herself, and finally signed her name, one stroke at a time.
The lawyers quickly reorganized the documents. Before leaving, they bowed respectfully: “Mr. Wen, Mrs. Wen, we’ll follow up on the remaining legal procedures. Congratulations on your marriage.”
Wen Shuchen, without the slightest air of arrogance, personally walked the lawyers out.
He Qingchi remained seated, stunned by the title “Mrs. Wen,” her eyes fixed on the marriage contract sitting on the coffee table.
She was now… legally, officially, Mrs. Wen?
This whole marriage happened in a single day, and her mind was still spinning.
Five or six minutes later, Wen Shuchen returned, a faint smile between his handsome brows, completely at ease—so different from her dazed state.
He carefully stored the marriage agreement and said, “Next Wednesday really is an auspicious day. We’ll go to the civil affairs office in the morning and get our marriage certificate.”
He was clearly in a good mood, and it showed. His smile was impossible to miss, which made her feel she couldn’t admit she was already having second thoughts.
“Then I’ll call my father,” she said, reaching for her phone, trying to find an excuse to leave the room.
But just as she stood up, Wen Shuchen gently grabbed her wrist. His gaze was soft, his voice low: “No need to rush.”
She figured it was already a done deal—waiting a day to tell her father wouldn’t change anything.
Now that they had a legal relationship, she didn’t want to act too distant or awkward. So she took a breath, nodded calmly, and said, “Alright, then… it’s getting late. I’ll go back to the film set?”
“Stay here tonight,” Wen Shuchen said casually, sealing her fate with a single sentence.
She wasn’t ready—her mouth opened slightly in surprise.
“I’ll take you back to set tomorrow morning,” he promised. His long, cool fingers slowly tightened around her slender wrist, his voice dipping a little lower, “You won’t be late.”
Now that they were legally married, he wanted her to stay the night.
What might happen… she couldn’t predict. She couldn’t figure out what Wen Shuchen was really thinking.
Her heart was pounding, and though she felt nervous, she couldn’t bring herself to reject his arrangement.
……
The spacious, comfortable master bedroom was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. The curtains over the floor-to-ceiling windows were drawn, blocking out the night view completely.
He Qingchi freshened up in the bathroom. With no clothes of her own to change into, she had to wear one of Wen Shuchen’s pajamas.
A pale ivory silk men's pajama top—long enough to serve as a nightdress on her.
He Qingchi stood in front of the mirror, steam curling softly around her. Even her reflection on the glass appeared slightly blurred. Her immaculately clean fingertips gently wiped away the condensation, slowly revealing her own image.
Wen Shuchen’s pajama shirt was far too large on her. The wide neckline exposed her collarbones, and below the hem, her long, slender legs stood out—so pale they almost dazzled the eye.
Dressed like this, she hesitated for a long time before stepping out.
Especially because… she wasn’t wearing anything underneath the pajamas.
Not on purpose—she simply didn’t have a change of clothes.
Luckily, Wen Shuchen didn’t rush her. Instead, he’d considerately said he would head to the study to deal with work, sparing her from any awkwardness.
Ten minutes later, He Qingchi opened the door and peeked out. The master bedroom was empty—no sign of the man.
She let out a breath of relief and walked over to the nightstand to grab her phone.
At a moment like this, she couldn’t be bothered about old grudges. She tapped on Qu Bixin’s WeChat profile and started a barrage of messages: [How did Shen Fu reject sharing a bed with you?]
Qu Bixin: [???]
He Qingchi: [I’m facing the same problem. I want to consult your husband.]
Qu Bixin was silent for three seconds, then fired back: [He Qingchi, you’re seriously out of line, asking such shameful questions in the middle of the night…]
The first few messages sounded restrained, as if someone else was nearby. But the rest returned to her true form:
[You damn woman—what do you mean Shen Fu rejected me?! I was just being reserved and dignified. He was being respectful toward women, okay?!]
He Qingchi: [I was wrong. I apologize.]
She bowed her head to Qu Bixin, her thirst for knowledge outweighing pride: [Then how exactly did Shen Fu politely turn you down?]
Qu Bixin: [Can you stop emphasizing that I was the one rejected?!]
He Qingchi: [So you were rejected by Shen Fu, got it.]
Qu Bixin: [*smile* Let’s reconnect in our next life.]
He Qingchi wasn’t afraid of being blocked. She slowly dropped a bomb: [I married Wen Shuchen.]
The phone went quiet for two seconds—then exploded with notifications.
Qu Bixin: [AHHHHH—did you drug the top elite bachelor or something?!]
In five short minutes, He Qingchi gave her a brief rundown of what had happened at the Wen family and mentioned that the He family likely already knew.
Qu Bixin: [Did Wen Shuchen trick you into marriage?!]
When she wasn’t dealing with Shen Fu, Qu Bixin’s brain worked faster than anyone’s. She sent a voice message, her signature princessy tone carried by her baby voice and a dramatic hum: [Everyone in the Wen family is dying to marry you. What are you, a bar of gold? Why is everyone fighting to take you home?]
He Qingchi, deep in thought, slowly typed back: [What’s there about me to lie for?]
Qu Bixin: [Exactly because you don’t get it, that’s what makes it suspicious. Like me, I like Shen Fu because of his face—blatant and honest. And Shen Fu first noticed me because I was the heiress of the Qu family. Both of us had our own motives. That’s how a relationship works... But you and Wen Shuchen?]
He Qingchi’s fingers paused on the screen, her gaze fixed for a long while on that message.
Then Qu Bixin suddenly changed her tone, giggling: [Whatever he’s after, as long as it’s not your kidneys or heart, what’s the harm in marrying the top elite? Be sure to test out his stamina, though.]
“….” What the hell kind of scam marriage plot involved stealing kidneys and hearts?
That’s plastic sisterhood for you—Qu Bixin knew she’d be clueless, so she sent a bunch of links.
He Qingchi clicked into one—and the titles alone were enough to make her jaw drop.
[Are these articles actually true?] she asked.
Within seconds, Qu Bixin rolled her eyes in reply: [Girl, those are romance novels. You know—trashy billionaire dramas. Kidney thefts, heart transplants, blood bank lovers, pure girls tricked into marrying into rich families—they’re all in there. Take a look.]
He Qingchi (expressionless): [Does Shen Fu know you read this stuff?]
Qu Bixin: [Of course. It’s not like I’m stealing his kidney.]
That sentence… instantly ended the conversation.
He Qingchi closed the browser without another glance, tossed her phone aside, and collapsed into the soft bed like her strength had been drained away.
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