Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 55 - Fake Prim and Proper
Chapter 55: Fake Prim and Proper
A few seconds later, He Qingchi’s long curled lashes lifted, staring at Wen Shuchen without blinking. He, however, didn’t move an inch. His handsome features were half hidden in the car’s dim, uneven light, lips pressed tightly together, as if that remark just now hadn’t even come from him.
The low pressure in the air was palpable, with the driver and bodyguard still present in front.
Since he wasn’t speaking, He Qingchi didn’t know how to pick up the thread either.
After a moment’s thought, she exited the game on her phone, opened WeChat, typed out a few words, and held the screen up before his eyes: “What did you mean by ‘baobao beibei’?
Wen Shuchen’s brows tightened as he took the phone, deleted her line, and typed out something else: “When you got in the car, what did you call that bodyguard?”
He Qingchi tilted her head, leaned closer to look at the screen, then took the phone back to type: “Beibei. What’s wrong with that?”
Even though Wen Shuchen thought it was very wrong, his habit of disguising everything with gentlemanly restraint kept him from saying it outright.
Even the way he’d been jealous this afternoon, he had expressed it in the most understated way.
After two seconds of silence, his long, pale fingers quickly took the phone back, typing fast: “Don’t call other men that from now on.”
This time, He Qingchi didn’t reach for the phone. Instead, she suddenly lifted her head, breaking the car’s oppressive air aloud: “Song Beibei.”
“Madam, yes?” The bodyguard in the passenger seat turned his sharp, rugged face toward her.
Wen Shuchen: “…”
He Qingchi gave him a light smile. “Nothing.”
The bodyguard turned back again, completely unaware of whatever little drama was unfolding in the backseat.
Wen Shuchen coughed softly, his features shadowed with a trace of embarrassment.
He Qingchi leaned in closer to his ear, her red lips pressing out the words: “Your own bodyguard’s called Song Beibei. And you’re blaming me?”
“I never said that.” Wen Shuchen would never admit it.
He Qingchi couldn’t be bothered to argue the point, only gave him a perfunctory smile, took the phone back, and reopened her game.
The driver stopped at the entrance of a narrow alley; the rest of the way had to be walked.
After months away, stepping once more into this private kitchen restaurant, He Qingchi’s mood was entirely different from before. The table by the upstairs window was the same, she sat in the same chair, and ordered dishes similar to last time.
Wen Shuchen took off his suit jacket and laid it over the chair. Beneath, he wore a crisp, clean shirt. After the secretary received the tea from the waiter outside and stepped out again, he quietly rolled up his sleeves, then walked over to the woman who was looking down at the menu.
Leaning in, his thin lips brushed lightly over her dark hair for just a second before he sat down beside her.
Seeing he didn’t sit across from her, He Qingchi shifted a little further in. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she raised her head: “Last time, was it Secretary Song who slipped the hotel keycard into the menu and handed it to you?”
The little trace of amusement in Wen Shuchen’s eyes vanished instantly, and he began dissecting every word she said. “So it seems Song Chao has told you quite a lot.”
Even his real name from before.
He Qingchi didn’t catch the nuance in his tone. Closing the menu, she said, “You men really have no shame.”
Wen Shuchen’s expression stiffened, his voice emphasized: “That was Song Chao’s own idea. Men like him—you should stay away from them. A pretty face on the outside, but nothing but dirty schemes inside.”
He Qingchi frowned slightly, her gaze sweeping him up and down as if studying every inch of him.
“You mean yourself?”
“…” Wen Shuchen.
The air stilled. The secretary and waiter came in with the dishes, silent, then left.
When they were gone, Wen Shuchen grew uncharacteristically quiet, ladling her a bowl of soup without a word.
He Qingchi felt he’d been off since the afternoon. It wasn’t that he was neglecting her—his gestures of closeness and interaction were all there—but at times tonight he turned moody, unpredictable.
Where was that calm composure, that gentle steadiness of his usual self?
This silent, hidden sulking—there was nothing steady about it.
They ate quietly until halfway through, when He Qingchi suddenly heard him ask: “What kind of man do you like?”
“Don’t you already know?” She propped her chin on one hand, meeting his gaze closely.
That wasn’t the answer Wen Shuchen wanted. He felt she was being evasive.
He paused, struck dumb, words failing him.
His Adam’s apple shifted, as though for the first time in his life he was experiencing a feeling that could not be put into words, desperately needing some release.
Afterward, the secretary was called upstairs to clear away the tea and replace it with red wine.
He Qingchi kept eating—the restaurant’s signature dishes were exactly to her taste. The man beside her, however, ate nothing, only drinking. His long fingers rested lightly on the table, glass in hand, those deep black pupils fixed on her delicate profile as she bent her head.
When she was nearly finished, his elegant fingers still remembered to offer her a clean handkerchief.
“Do you need something to sober up?” He Qingchi asked when she saw him drinking the wine all by himself, worried he might get drunk.
His handsome face showed no sign of losing clarity, though a faint aura of wine surrounded him, and beneath his lowered gaze, there was a hint of intoxication in his eyes.
She hadn’t forgotten those two times before marriage—how drinking had made him act strangely.
For now, though, Wen Shuchen still seemed fine.
He slowly rose, slipped his suit jacket back on, and lifted a hand in refusal. “No need.”
He Qingchi rose with him and said, “If you need it, I’ll buy you some medicine.”
Medicine to sober up.
At the mention of medicine, Wen Shuchen thought of the pharmacy.
As they went downstairs, his long fingers caught hers, gripping firmly without letting go, and he led her straight out of the private restaurant’s alley.
Still confused, He Qingchi noticed their car and bodyguards trailing behind at a distance. But Wen Shuchen was pulling her toward the main street, and it didn’t feel like a casual walk. She asked aloud, “Where are we going?”
He found a late-night pharmacy, then lowered his gaze to her, brushing her cheek with his fingertip. Her skin was so soft it made him feel lighter, and even his voice softened when he asked, “Did you bring money?”
“You can pay with your phone.” Realizing he had brought her to a pharmacy, she obediently followed along.
Might as well get him some medicine.
At this hour, there were only one or two customers inside. As soon as they entered, a female pharmacist came over.
“What do you need?”
He Qingchi lifted her lashes slightly, glancing at the man beside her who was also scanning the shelves.
Before she could answer, Wen Shuchen suddenly spoke.
The air froze. With just a few plain words, her face instantly burned red. She wanted to pretend she didn’t know him, but his right hand still gripped hers tightly, making their relationship obvious.
The pharmacist, seeing such a tall, handsome man in a suit bring along a young woman to buy… those, was stunned for a moment, then quickly asked, “We have boxes or singles. Which do you need tonight, sir?”
From her point of view, they probably were just a one-night couple—coming in for the standard supplies.
Wen Shuchen looked at He Qingchi, deliberately serious with a hint of mischief. “How many should we get? The ones at home ran out too fast.”
He Qingchi had always forbidden him from sending bodyguards or secretaries to buy these things.
He used to go himself, usually only two boxes at most.
When she was busy filming, they went through them slowly. But lately, with her home every night, things had gotten… excessive.
Looking at his earnest expression, He Qingchi felt her scalp tingle. She forced a half-smile and muttered, “You’re being a rogue, you know that?”
Wen Shuchen didn’t see it that way at all. He lowered his head, his nose brushing lightly by her ear, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered so only she could hear, “Then I’ll buy a few more boxes for home.”
And he really did—ordering ten boxes of six each!
The pharmacist’s expression said it all: That much in one night?
Wen Shuchen remained perfectly composed, even urging her to pay.
“I don’t have money!” she hissed between clenched teeth, too embarrassed to make a scene in public.
His dark eyes gleamed, lips curved faintly. Once he had alcohol, he completely lost the gentlemanly facade he wore in the daytime. Ten boxes weren’t enough—he started eyeing other varieties too.
Fearing he’d embarrass her further, He Qingchi tugged at his sleeve, whispering anxiously, “Are you drunk? Wen Shuchen, are you drunk?”
He stood tall, not showing a hint of it.
Easily pulling her back into his hold, he asked the pharmacist for another ten boxes of the thin type, three per pack.
By now, the way the pharmacist looked at He Qingchi had completely changed.
And from that look, He Qingchi could practically hear her silent judgment: This poor man’s kidneys won’t survive her.
All twenty boxes were bagged up in black plastic.
Neither of them wanted to take it.
Digging her nails into her palm, He Qingchi shot him several fierce glares.
But his handsome face showed no shame at all. With one arm draped casually around her shoulder, he whispered a “choice”: “You pay, or you carry the bag?”
“I’m not a child—I choose neither.”
Her words had barely fallen when he said smoothly, “Then add ten more.”
“......”
Ten minutes later.
With a blank expression, He Qingchi walked out of the pharmacy carrying a huge black plastic bag. The moment they reached the street, she spun around and shoved everything into his arms.
“You use it yourself.”
Wen Shuchen looked down at her lazily, though his gaze was impossibly deep. After a pause, he said, “Without you cooperating, I’m afraid that won’t work.”
Tonight, she had lost every ounce of dignity she’d ever had—right there in that pharmacy.
And when it came time to pay, the amount had slapped her face harder than anything else.
She drew a deep breath. No point arguing with a man half-drunk.
“You’re coming home with me. Once you sober up, we’ll settle this.”
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