Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 38 - To cultivate the relationship between husband and wife

August 26, 2025 Oyen 0 Comments

Happy Reading~

Chapter 38: To cultivate the relationship between husband and wife

 

The next day, at a high-end private beauty salon in the city center.

 

The room was quietly closed. The environment had a warm color tone. The beautician tiptoed away with bottles and jars in hand, and a faint scent of essential oils lingered in the air—it was very pleasant.

 

“You’re saying Wen Shuchen has emotional detachment disorder?”

 

Qu Bixin had just finished her back treatment and hadn’t even wrapped herself in a towel when she suddenly sat up, nearly lunging to grab the woman lying on the other bed, stretching out her body lines.

 

He Qingchi lay comfortably, her entire body relaxed, her fine lashes lowered, casting a shadow on her porcelain-like delicate face.

 

Under the dim lighting, she turned her head slightly and softly replied, “He doesn’t like talking about the emotional disorder. Last night he just mentioned that he sees a therapist regularly. It’s not a big issue.”

 

“He’s probably been seeing one for years—might as well be friends with the therapist by now.” Qu Bixin had a knack for hitting the point with her sarcasm.

 

He Qingchi added, “Would he lie to me?”

 

“Didn’t you believe him last night?”

 

“Of course I had to believe him in front of him...” He Qingchi slowly sat up, reached for a cup of rose tea, took a sip, and looked up only to see Qu Bixin’s disdainful expression.

 

She paused a few seconds and added, “You didn’t see the scene last night—he showed off his abs and that tattooed arm. My survival instinct was really strong, okay?”

 

Qu Bixin knew her too well.

 

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “You didn’t get down and worship his eight-pack, did you?”

 

“You think I’m you?” He Qingchi shot back lightly.

 

“Sorry, I only love Shen Fu’s face. Even if he had no abs, no legs, and was half-disabled, it wouldn’t affect my endless love for him.” Qu Bixin squinted lazily, and a dimple faintly appeared on her cheek when she smiled.

 

But her words were nowhere near as sweet as her looks.

 

He Qingchi could only say, “You win.”

 

Qu Bixin, skipping her own drama, continued gossiping: “So, what are you thinking now?”

 

“We’ve already signed the marriage agreement, and met the parents…” He Qingchi paused mid-sentence, unable to muster any expression. “If I back out now and leave him, that’d be way too heartless. Besides, his childhood must’ve been tough. Kids raised in healthy families wouldn’t end up with emotional detachment issues.”

 

Qu Bixin nodded. “Mhm, in other words, you like him.”

 

Cough, cough! He Qingchi nearly choked on her tea, her expression suddenly awkward.

 

“Don’t be shy. It’s perfectly normal to like your own husband. It’s not like you’re into someone else’s,” Qu Bixin rolled her eyes again, fed up with He Qingchi’s denial.

 

He Qingchi didn’t respond, sipping her rose tea quietly.

 

“Oh right!”

 

Suddenly, Qu Bixin sprang up and pulled out a screenshot of a trending topic from her phone, glaring as she asked, “Isn’t this little b*tch your husband’s backup girl? When did she dare try and take my CP spot?!”

 

The hot search had been taken down the previous night, and Shu Tongyi’s agency had already issued a clarification. If Qu Bixin hadn’t brought it up, He Qingchi would’ve nearly forgotten about it. She glanced at the comments—one called Shu Tongyi a delicate beauty in love, so it seemed her own “cool and dominant” persona was still safe.

 

“You even managed to become a scandal target for your love rival. He Qingchi, what other world-shaking stuff can you possibly do?”

 

Faced with Qu Bixin’s merciless ridicule, He Qingchi calmly said, “Shu Tongyi is just one-sidedly in love. Wen Shuchen won’t like her.”

 

“You sure about that?”

 

“Because Wen Shuchen likes me.”

 

……

Around 4:30 PM, after their spa treatments, the two went shopping for a bit.

 

He Qingchi didn’t buy anything. She spent the entire afternoon following Qu Bixin around the men’s fashion section. With a free helper in tow, Qu Bixin bought everything from suits and shirts to ties and cufflinks—basically a full wardrobe for a man.

 

After exiting a high-end store, He Qingchi, carrying the shopping bags, looked at the energetic woman beside her and said with a deep breath, “The way you’re spending money, even if Shen Fu becomes rich, you’ll bankrupt him sooner or later.”

 

Qu Bixin gave her a sweet smile: “Doesn’t matter. I’m not in it for the money. Even if Shen Fu’s broke and destitute, I’d never leave him.”

 

So fake!

 

He Qingchi tossed all the shopping bags into the car trunk—none of it belonged to her man, so she didn’t feel the least bit heartache.

 

Once in the car, Qu Bixin took the driver’s seat.

 

Her reason was clear: “I’ve been your little servant all afternoon. Can’t you be my chauffeur just once?”

 

Qu Bixin wanted to protest—as usual, she always had to one-up He Qingchi since they were kids—but was quickly shut down again by her light retort: “Oh, did I mention? I only met Wen Shuchen because I rear-ended his luxury car.”

 

“...”

 

Qu Bixin glanced at her own million-dollar car, then silently changed into a pair of flats and climbed into the driver’s seat.

 

He Qingchi was about to get into the back, but one glare from Qu Bixin forced her into the front passenger seat.

 

“You really think I’m your driver?”

 

“Take me to this address, thanks.”

 

He Qingchi even pulled up the GPS and handed her the route, fastening her seatbelt.

 

“When did you get so classy—going to see a recital?”

 

Qu Bixin gave a quick glance at the cello concert ticket in He Qingchi’s hand.

 

“Wen Shuchen invited me to go.”

 

When mentioning this man, He Qingchi didn’t even realize her lips had curved into a smile. She still pretended to be calm and said, “Just think of it as a date to build some emotional connection.”

 

Qu Bixin raised her delicate eyebrows high: “Your husband is taking you to another beautiful woman’s concert to build emotional connection?”

 

He Qingchi was used to her picking fights, but she still flipped the concert ticket over. It had a real photo and name of the performer printed on it: “Shen Tingji. Never heard of her.”

 

She had never really had any contact with music. If Wen Shuchen hadn’t invited her, she wouldn’t have thought about going to a concert at all.

 

“The ‘Shen’ with the three-water radical? Same surname as my husband. Maybe they were a family five hundred years ago.” Qu Bixin joked—she wasn’t interested in music either, just wanted to get in a few words.

 

He Qingchi tucked the ticket away and said slowly, “Don’t try to claim relations. This performer’s tickets are harder to get than celebrity concerts. Seems she’s very popular with the upper class.”

 

“Like your husband, the type who likes to keep up pretenses?” Qu Bixin couldn’t help poking fun.

 

He Qingchi didn’t bother arguing and just turned to look out the car window.

 

At 4:50 PM, He Qingchi finally arrived, just ten minutes before the concert started.

 

She got out of the car, crossed the long street under the traffic light in high heels, and walked toward the concert entrance. The night wind swept her long hair around. From a short distance, she saw the man standing in the crowd—tall and poised. His very presence was enough to draw attention.

 

When she walked over, she hesitated for a second.

 

Maybe it was the memory of the “bad thing” he did the night before, and the fact they hadn’t seen each other all day. It made her feel a bit awkward.

 

Wen Shuchen seemed to sense her arrival. The next second, he looked over, his expression softening with a warm smile, and he waved to her.

 

He Qingchi calmed herself and walked over like nothing happened.

 

“Sorry, the traffic was really bad.” She stood in front of him and took the initiative to apologize.

 

Wen Shuchen smiled, pulling one hand out of his pocket. Instead of holding her hand this time, he naturally draped his arm around her shoulder, shielding her from the crowd. His voice was low and gentle: “It’s okay, I just got here too.”

 

He Qingchi didn’t question the truth of that statement, as they were now being ushered inside.

 

They were still in the early stages of getting to know and adjusting to each other. To He Qingchi, attending a concert was like watching a painfully boring art film at the cinema.

 

She figured Wen Shuchen probably preferred events like this over movies, so she accepted the plan without much resistance.

 

Their seats were in the front row. As soon as a woman with flowing burgundy hair appeared on stage, the concert hall erupted in applause.

 

The lighting was dim, so He Qingchi couldn’t see the cellist’s face clearly. After she sat down, her attention was entirely on the man beside her.

 

Wen Shuchen held her fair hand in his palm and rested it on his trouser leg.

 

He Qingchi could no longer focus on the music. His low voice reached her ears: “You didn’t reply to my WeChat messages this afternoon.”

 

Reply to what?

 

There was nothing worth replying to. He had messaged her asking whether her calves were red after waking up—how could she respond to something like that without sounding accusatory?

 

Wen Shuchen seemed to have a natural talent for playing the aggrieved husband. When she didn’t answer and just pressed her lips together, he quietly squeezed her fingers.

 

The pressure wasn’t strong, but enough to make He Qingchi glare at him: “They’re not red.”

 

Satisfied, Wen Shuchen smiled faintly: “Then there’s no need for ointment.”

 

He was only teasing her after lightly pinching her leg that morning. Buying ointment would be overkill.

 

Just as the two of them were silently bickering, the audience suddenly became restless, murmuring in surprise.

 

He Qingchi looked up and saw that the cellist’s dress strap had somehow come undone. One of her shoulder straps had slid off her pale arm.

 

The musical performance was interrupted. A tall figure in black quickly rushed on stage, draped a suit jacket over the performer to prevent further exposure, and escorted her offstage.

 

The host came up with a microphone to cover the moment, while the audience murmured, wondering who the man was.

 

Within just two or three minutes, He Qingchi glanced toward the backstage, then looked at Wen Shuchen’s face, and said hesitantly: “He looks familiar.”

 

Wen Shuchen calmly finished her thought: “That was Shen Fu.”

 

“…” He Qingchi was speechless.

 

“If I remember correctly, he’s Qu Bixin’s husband. They’ve been together for four or five years and just got married not long ago.”

 

Since the concert was now effectively over, Wen Shuchen took her hand and led her out, avoiding the crowd and shielding her carefully. He whispered beside her: “Mm, you didn’t remember wrong.”

 

“They both have the surname Shen. Are they siblings?” He Qingchi asked, stunned, her imagination running wild.

 

This time, Wen Shuchen shook his head: “I don’t know either.”

The author has something to say:

Mini Theater

----------