Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 42 - A Completely Innocent Guy!
Chapter 42: A Completely Innocent Guy!
After Wen Shuchen finished speaking, an inexplicable silence fell over the car. When he looked at He Qingchi again, the delicate smile that had lingered on her exquisite face gradually faded away completely.
“That property…” He lowered his deep voice, attempting to break the tension.
He Qingchi just stared at him without responding.
Wen Shuchen hesitated for a moment, then gently explained, “Someone used to live there, but not with me.”
Seeing that he at least realized he had crossed a line, He Qingchi took out her phone and showed him a message from Shen Fu. “This woman? You told me last night you didn’t even know this Miss Jiji.”
When Wen Shuchen saw the message, his handsome face froze for a second. He didn’t try to grab the phone but calmly explained: “A year ago, before Shen Fu returned to Jiangcheng, he asked me to look after Shen Tingji for a while. I never met her in person and didn’t know her background. I only heard she played the violin well.”
He Qingchi actually believed that he and this Jiji woman didn’t have anything between them. After all, given how cautious Wen Shuchen was, he wouldn’t have brought his new wife to his ex’s concert in broad daylight if there was something shady going on.
What she didn’t like was that Wen Shuchen’s credibility had dropped significantly in her eyes. His words could only be trusted one-third of the time. She didn’t know which part was truth and which was sweet-talking lies. The man was too good at lying to women.
After a pause—
He Qingchi said seriously, “If Qu Bixin finds out about this woman, she’ll go nuts.”
Even though her friendship with Qu Bixin was a bit shallow, He Qingchi knew her well. She was a straightforward little green tea — not manipulative, just an action-taker. Once she set her sights on someone, she went all in.
Any woman who so much as glanced at Shen Fu would get the death stare.
But this Shen Tingji — if she was really Shen Fu’s sister, why was she being hidden under Wen Shuchen’s name?
He Qingchi thought about it for a while, then calmly concluded: “This Miss Jiji… she’s either your lover or Shen Fu’s. Either way, one of you men is guilty.”
Wen Shuchen turned to her and calmly distanced himself: “She’s not mine.”
“Then you’re an accomplice.”
He Qingchi snapped, then paused, frowning.
“Why do I even need to know all this? Should I tell Qu Bixin or not?”
Wen Shuchen saw that she was finally starting to think seriously and said, with a touch of helplessness, “I didn’t mention Shen Tingji earlier because I didn’t want to put you in a difficult position.”
He Qingchi glared at him with those beautiful eyes. “You’re always saying the right things, aren’t you?”
He was, indeed, a silver-tongued man — always thinking up ways to make himself look innocent.
Wen Shuchen, noticing she wasn’t truly mad, smiled faintly and said in a low voice, “I’ll handle this for you, hmm?”
“You’re not lying to me?” He Qingchi still held her reservations.
Wen Shuchen used the matter as leverage to strike a deal: “If we go back to the hotel tonight and you help me apply the ointment, I’ll give you a proper explanation.”
“…” He Qingchi was speechless.
“You can refuse,” Wen Shuchen added in a calm tone. “As long as you choose not to tell Qu Bixin and pretend you don’t know anything.”
Wen Shuchen knew exactly how to handle her temperament, which made her fume. She smacked his shoulder with her fair hand in frustration.
Back at the hotel Wen Shuchen was staying in, the secretary had prepared fresh fruit and desserts in the living room — clearly selected with a girl’s tastes in mind.
He Qingchi didn’t hold back, kicked off her high heels, and sat on the sofa, picking up some grapes.
Wen Shuchen’s elite team of subordinates, seeing that the president’s wife had been brought over, tactfully gathered their things and left. Even Secretary Song didn’t stay behind to be a third wheel.
In no time, the place fell quiet.
Wen Shuchen went to the walk-in closet and changed into casual homewear. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, revealing a tattoo on his solid forearm — a striking contrast against his pale skin.
He Qingchi was munching on sour grapes when her eyes were immediately drawn to the sight.
It was her first time seeing Wen Shuchen so relaxed, sleeves rolled up, looking effortlessly at ease.
He walked into the kitchen first and made a cup of hangover tea.
“Drink a little. It’s not too hot.”
He Qingchi caught the scent and knew it was for sobering up. She swallowed the grape and lightly touched her cheek. “Do I look drunk to you?”
“You smell like alcohol.”
Wen Shuchen sat beside her and, in a low voice, said, “I’m afraid you’ll wake up tomorrow with a headache.”
She didn’t refuse the gesture and obediently sipped the tea.
Wen Shuchen then picked up his phone and asked for Qu Bixin’s WeChat.
He Qingchi opened hers and pushed the contact to him directly.
“Why are you adding Qu Bixin on WeChat?”
Before she could get an answer, Wen Shuchen had already added Qu Bixin.
He used his full name in the friend request. Qu Bixin responded quickly, accepting with a smiling emoji.
With no change in expression, Wen Shuchen took a screenshot of Shen Fu’s message and sent it to her.
“Cough—”
He Qingchi glanced over and choked on her drink.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. This man was actually selling out his own friend without even flinching.
Wen Shuchen ignored the question marks sent by Qu Bixin, exited WeChat decisively, and placed his phone on the coffee table.
As he turned his head, he saw He Qingchi still staring at him blankly.
“I’ve helped you tell Qu Bixin about this. No matter what the result is, you don’t need to feel guilty,” Wen Shuchen said as he reached out and pulled her into his arms.
He Qingchi naturally ended up sitting on his lap, unable to get down because his arm was wrapped around her waist. Still a bit dazed, she asked, “Shen Fu is your friend, isn’t he?”
“I enjoy talking with him and admire his business skills,” Wen Shuchen said—a rare compliment from him about a friend.
It showed just how much he valued Shen Fu.
He Qingchi raised her pale hand to hold his face and looked at him seriously: “And yet you still mercilessly sold your friend out?”
Wen Shuchen held her wrist and slowly moved her hand away from his face. His thin lips brushed her clean fingertips as he murmured, “I’m just abandoning darkness for the light, protecting myself… whether he lives or dies, what’s it got to do with me?”
“...” Are all men’s friendships this fragile?
He Qingchi was left speechless, giving him a perfunctory response with a sarcastic smile: “You really are such a pure and innocent man.”
Wen Shuchen merely smiled in return, not wanting her attention to stay on Shen Fu. He lightly bit her finger and said, “Those scratches from last night… they really still hurt today.”
Her fingertips were flushed from the heat of his breath, making her feel uncomfortable. At the same time, she could see how shamelessly he was playing the pity card.
“Qingchi—”
He deliberately softened his tone and stretched out her name.
Last night, when the pain had pushed her to her limit, she had been comforted by him whispering her name like this next to her ear.
She couldn’t stand the suffocating atmosphere he created, and her voice instinctively dropped: “Talk properly.”
Wen Shuchen’s eyes glinted with a knowing smile. He asked with a suggestive tone, “Shall we rest on the sofa for a bit?”
He Qingchi’s scalp tingled.
During the day, he would meet guests at the hotel, and his elite team and secretary would work in this living room. How could they just do that on this sofa?
Realizing her thoughts, Wen Shuchen pinched her cheek: “Forget I said that.”
He Qingchi’s cheeks turned red. Her skin was already fair, so the flush made it more obvious.
She pushed against his shoulder in a panic and stood up, fixing her dress.
Wen Shuchen remained lazily seated on the sofa, looking relaxed, while his eyes were full of amusement as he watched her.
After 10 p.m., they both washed up and got ready for bed.
He Qingchi brought out the ointment again, turned off the ceiling lights in the master bedroom, leaving only two bedside lamps on. Kneeling softly on the edge of the bed, she let Wen Shuchen lie down and undid his robe’s belt.
As she leaned forward, her long black hair brushed against his chest. She dabbed some ointment and gently applied it to the red scratch marks.
His well-defined abs had firm and powerful lines.
As she traced over him, she seemed a bit reluctant to stop.
“When do you usually work out?”
Wen Shuchen, propped up by two pillows, enjoyed her gentle care. His expression clearly showed pleasure, and he openly shared his fitness routine: “Six in the morning. The hotel has a private gym.”
No wonder—she wasn’t even awake by then.
He Qingchi's movements were as gentle as lamb’s wool. After applying the ointment, she moved to trace the tattoo on his arm. If one looked closely, one could still spot three old scars—clearly from a serious injury.
Her long lashes cast a shadow, hiding the trace of pain in her eyes. Her lips calmly asked, “You must’ve bled a lot from that, huh?”
Wen Shuchen glanced at her. Her delicate face looked thoughtful as her fingertips traced the old scars again and again.
Then he suddenly pulled her into the blankets with him. The overwhelming masculine scent sobered her up instantly. Her fingers were still sticky with ointment, and worried it would stain the bedsheets, she had to hug his shoulders to avoid touching anything else.
Suddenly, they were very close.
Close enough to hear each other’s heartbeats.
Wen Shuchen lowered his head and stared at her quietly.
Sometimes, when the mood is right, no words are needed.
He Qingchi grew nervous. Her heart started beating faster than his. Her face turned bright red. “Shouldn’t you trim my nails first? Otherwise, applying the ointment was pointless.”
Wen Shuchen grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the pillow. His voice was low and raspy, practically in her ear: “If scratching me is how you deal with pain, then I’ll hurt with you.”
The night outside was quiet. The window reflected Jiangcheng’s dazzling city lights. Within seconds, He Qingchi finally gave in and nestled completely into his arms. Their silhouettes in the dark, silent room were intimately entwined…
----------
If you like my translation, please support me by buying me a coffee:
0 comments: