Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 60 - You Admit You were Wrong too? You Know You were Wrong?

October 14, 2025 Oyen 0 Comments

Happy Reading~

Chapter 60: You Admit You were Wrong too? You Know You were Wrong?

 

He Qingchi stayed in the private room until the gathering finally ended in the early hours before leaving. Her phone, which had automatically shut down, was recharged again. The crew members were leaving in groups, and someone ran over to ask if she wanted to walk back together.

 

Outside the clubhouse, only a few cars passed by on the road. The dim streetlights cast a faint glow over the chilly night.

 

He Qingchi idly tapped her phone screen. The call log showed eight missed calls. Slowly, she moved her gaze away and politely declined the person’s enthusiastic invitation: “I still have something to do.”

 

The banquet had ended, and most people were already gone.

 

Holding the address the assistant director had given her, He Qingchi walked along the street for five or six minutes before finally seeing the high-end five-star hotel. She didn’t rush to enter. Instead, she went into a 24-hour convenience store to buy a bottle of water.

 

The missed calls had all come in while her phone was off. After that, Wen Shuchen hadn’t called again.

 

He Qingchi sat at a window seat in the convenience store, directly facing the hotel entrance.

 

She didn’t show herself. More than twenty minutes passed after midnight.

 

The phone she had been toying with between her pale fingertips suddenly rang. Looking down, she saw Song Chao’s name on the screen.

 

She didn’t answer. After a while, the call hung up, and a message came through: [Madam, where are you?]

 

This time, instead of ignoring it, she slowly opened her camera and sent Song Chao a photo of the street view outside the convenience store.

 

There was no more prodding from the other side; her phone went quiet again.

 

She continued sitting there. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cashier preparing a cup of instant noodles, and the smell drifted over, savory and tempting.

 

She wasn’t really hungry—but it smelled so good that she walked over.

 

In less than five minutes, the noodles were ready.

 

Resting her cheek in one hand, He Qingchi sat again by the window, a steaming cup of sauerkraut-flavored instant noodles in front of her. Through the clean glass, she saw a familiar, tall figure in a suit walk out of the hotel entrance across the street.

 

His long legs were wrapped in tailored trousers, and his steps were slow but steady, not once stopping.

 

“Welcome,” the cashier’s voice sounded after a pause.

 

He Qingchi didn’t look back. She kept her head lowered, fingers gripping the plastic fork, stirring the steaming noodles.

 

The man’s footsteps grew closer. Soon, in the small convenience store, he found her and walked straight over, sitting down beside her as if nothing had happened.

 

“Why are you eating this? Didn’t you eat enough at the banquet?”

 

Wen Shuchen leaned in a little, breaking the silence with small talk.

 

He Qingchi’s lashes stayed lowered. It had been a month since they last saw each other, and his nearness now felt strangely unfamiliar. After a quiet moment, she said, “It smells good. I wanted to drink the broth.”

 

His handsome brows furrowed at her words, but quickly relaxed again. Perhaps he remembered it wasn’t wise to anger her right now. He didn’t comment on how unhealthy instant noodles were, but instead circled around tactfully: “If you want soup, I’ll take you somewhere better, okay?”

 

“I don’t want to. It’s too late.”

 

Her refusal was slow, unyielding, hard to coax.

 

Wen Shuchen brooded a little. Being treated so coldly by her again and again left him feeling wronged.

 

Silence settled between them.

 

He Qingchi stirred the noodles for a long time without eating. Looking up, she caught the cashier staring at her accusingly, as though scolding her silently for wasting food!

 

After thinking a bit, she finally looked straight at the man beside her and said: “I’ll let you have it.”

 

Her fair hand slowly pushed the cup of noodles toward Wen Shuchen.

 

His eyes darkened, first resting on the sour-smelling noodles, then shifting to her face.

 

She smiled faintly, eyes half-closed. Outwardly, she seemed the same as usual. But in truth, she had spent the past month living with the crew, not going home, using filming as an excuse, replying to his calls and messages only when she felt like it. Even after so long apart, she showed not the slightest sign of missing him.

 

“Just eat a few bites. Otherwise it’ll be wasted.”

 

Hearing her say this, Wen Shuchen resigned himself and took the noodles.

 

He probably had never eaten such a thing in his life; his brows tightened.

 

He Qingchi’s dark eyes stayed fixed on his handsome side profile. Slowly, her smile faded.

 

Even though Wen Shuchen liked to put on a gentlemanly, unhurried air, when it came to eating, he was far more decisive than her. In no time, two-thirds of the noodles were gone.

 

“That’s enough. Don’t upset your stomach,” He Qingchi finally said.

 

“Once in a while doesn’t matter.” He spoke lightly, then put them down honestly.

 

He Qingchi took the cup back into her hands and drank the sour broth, sip by sip.

 

Wen Shuchen sat with her in the convenience store for another twenty minutes. By then, it was nearly 1 a.m. After finishing the soup, He Qingchi dabbed the corner of her lips with a tissue and said, “I have filming tomorrow. I need to go back to the crew’s hotel.”

 

By the time she returned, it would be after 2 a.m. If Wen Shuchen sent her back and came all the way here again, he wouldn’t be able to rest until dawn.

 

So she said it plainly: “Have the bodyguard take me.”

 

“......”

 

He had been waiting all night, only to get less than an hour alone with her.

 

She tossed the tissue, picked up her bag, and headed out.

 

Wen Shuchen followed right behind. On the empty street, he suddenly reached out and gripped her hand tightly, his tone no longer soft and yielding, but forceful, carrying a refusal to let her go: “Stay with me tonight. I’ll call Director Guo in the morning.”

 

Tonight, he had specifically called He Qingchi over to sober him up. There was no way this relationship could remain hidden from Guo Dao.

 

He Qingchi was dragged along by her wrist, her high heels making her steps unsteady, as they crossed the street toward the hotel. Once inside, they took the elevator straight up to Wen Shuchen’s floor. The hallway was carpeted with thick, soft carpeting that muffled every sound.

 

Standing in front of the suite door, before she could even take out the key card, Wen Shuchen pulled her forcefully against the cold door panel. In less than a few seconds, before she could comprehend what was happening, the man was already leaning down.

 

He hadn’t even waited to enter the room—he kissed her right there in the doorway, suddenly and without warning.

 

A month of cold war between them was broken by this single act. Wen Shuchen lost his composure and reason; his thin lips pressed heavily against hers, forceful and fully charged with emotion.

 

He Qingchi’s breath caught, frozen for several seconds. Between her lips was his familiar masculine scent, tinged with a faint sting of pain.

 

Her palms pressed against his solid shoulders, instinctively trying to push him away. “There are cameras in the hallway,” she said, struggling.

 

But Wen Shuchen drew her closer into his embrace, kissing along the corners of her lips, her cheeks, and behind her ears. His breathing grew slightly uneven. After a moment, he returned to her cheek, his voice low and hoarse: “If the cameras expose us, no one online will dare meddle with your love life again.”

 

His words were mischievous, almost teasing. His hands cupped her head, holding it steady as he leaned down again.

 

He Qingchi’s strength was no match for his. She was forced to kiss him in the hallway for almost half an hour. Wen Shuchen, however, seemed incapable of stopping, offering no space to breathe, his lips pressed against hers, instinctively wanting more.

 

“My lips… hurt…”

 

A single tear fell from He Qingchi’s eyelashes, and she choked out a small sob.

 

That single tear, and the faint hint of crying in her voice, made Wen Shuchen pause, keeping his lips on hers without moving.

 

His reason slowly returned. His long, clean fingers brushed against her cheek, as if wiping away the tear. He whispered, his warm breath against her skin: “It’s okay… I’ve calmed down. Don’t cry.”

 

The reason He Qingchi cried wasn’t the pain in her lips—it was the ache in her chest.

 

She shoved him away, flustered, to wipe her mouth.

 

Wen Shuchen stepped back two paces. During her struggle, her hands had tugged at his tie, misaligned a shirt button, and left his jacket slightly disheveled. Standing under the light, he looked like a refined rogue who had just taken advantage of a girl.

 

He furrowed his brow, realizing he had made He Qingchi even angrier.

 

“Open the door.” Her eyes were red; she didn’t want to be laughed at standing in the hallway.

 

Who knows if there is anyone watching over there by the camera?

 

Wen Shuchen pulled the room card from his trouser pocket, stretched out his arm, and opened the door behind her.

 

He Qingchi stepped inside and immediately kicked off her high heels, spinning around to hurl them at him. Her face showed no tears, but it was clear she had been crying; her hair was messy, and her expression stern as she walked to the kitchen for water.

 

Wen Shuchen followed, picked up her shoes, and set them aside neatly before coming in.

 

She stood in front of the fridge, opening a bottle of water at random, drinking with shallow breaths—her emotions clearly still unsettled.

 

Wen Shuchen approached, wrapping his arms around her from behind. Through the fabric, her slender waist was easily pulled into his embrace. His low voice sounded in her ear: “Sorry—”

 

He apologized first, sincerely.

 

He Qingchi drank half the bottle of ice water to calm down, tossed it into the trash, then turned to him, close enough to ask: “Where did you go wrong?”

 

“Earlier…” Wen Shuchen held her fingertips in his palm, as if holding her like that could keep her close. His deep eyes showed a different emotion as he paused: “I haven’t seen you for a month. I missed you too much… I lost control.”

 

He Qingchi wasn’t angry about that. She pressed on: “Is that all?”

 

Wen Shuchen had reflected on himself enough. Following her tone, he admitted. “I shouldn’t have drunk and made you take the medicine.”

 

If it weren’t for that, he couldn’t understand why He Qingchi had given him the silent treatment for a whole month.

 

Her face revealed nothing. Her dark eyes, still moist from crying, glistened like they had been washed with water.

 

She pulled her hand free from his palm. Her lips still ached slightly. Frustrated, she said: “So you know you were wrong? You know you were wrong? You let Director Guo and the assistant director trick me to come to the hotel and make me angry… and you still know you were wrong?”

 

“It’s all my fault—” Wen Shuchen said, ready to admit to any crime at that moment.

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