Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 63 - Coax Her Well
Chapter 63: Coax Her Well
Qu Bixin wasn’t close to Wen Shuchen. She had only heard rumors about him before—how he was the foremost socialite of Jiangcheng, only mingling with a fixed circle of people, wrapped in mystery. Even after Shen Fu got acquainted with him, it was still rare to actually see him.
The impression Wen Shuchen gave was one of refined gentleness, with a gentleman’s manners in every interaction. But deep down, Qu Bixin knew very clearly—this man was far from easy to get along with. At his core, he was shrewd and calculating, hiding it beneath his polished façade.
She couldn’t imagine how He Qingchi had ended up entangled with someone like him.
The restaurant was quiet for a while. Qu Bixin silently lowered her head, finished her soy milk, and after much hesitation, couldn’t hold back from asking the man across the table: “President Wen, how long have you been lending your villa to Shen Fu?”
Wen Shuchen had never intended to help Shen Fu cover anything up. He didn’t lower his newspaper, didn’t even lift his eyelids to look at Qu Bixin. His thin lips slowly let out a few simple words: “Over a year.”
Qu Bixin’s fingers clenched tightly around her chopsticks. That meant—it was before she even returned to Jiangcheng with Shen Fu to develop her career.
That woman had already been kept here all this time?
“Do you want to see Shen Tingji’s injury report?”
His sudden question snapped Qu Bixin back to reality. She looked a little surprised: “You’re willing to show it to me?”
“Mhm. But you’ll have to give it back when you’re done.” Wen Shuchen spoke casually as he set a file on the table, his long fingers lightly pushing it toward her.
Qu Bixin picked it up, still confused: “Why return it?”
“Qingchi might want to read it when she wakes up.” Wen Shuchen’s tone was matter-of-fact. He’d had his bodyguards pull this report from the hospital purely to satisfy his wife’s curiosity.
Later, he could even use it as a way to ease the tension between them, an excuse to talk to her more.
Qu Bixin: “…” She had been naïve.
She had actually thought Wen Shuchen was being kind, helping her out of goodwill.
But that wasn’t important now. She quickly skimmed the report at lightning speed. The injuries were only superficial. What caught her attention was in the following document—her eyes widened, and she quickly looked up straight at Wen Shuchen: “Shen Tingji lost her voice because her tongue was… cut out?”
Wen Shuchen glanced at his watch, calculating the time, then answered nonchalantly: “Shen Tingji’s parents were murdered. At the time, she was five years old, at home. The killer cut her tongue out with a knife.”
Qu Bixin’s hand trembled violently, the papers slipping from her fingers.
That was all Wen Shuchen was willing to say. He didn’t want to go further.
“I’ve arranged a driver for you. Whether you want to go to the hospital or return to the Qu family, they’ll take you.”
Qu Bixin forced down her emotions and murmured her thanks.
A faint, mild smile brushed Wen Shuchen’s face, his voice polite as he said: “Qingchi will wake soon. Miss Qu, could you kindly head home first?”
Qu Bixin looked at him, hearing the unspoken message between his words.
He was telling her she was in the way—interrupting a married couple’s time together.
Upstairs, when He Qingchi stirred awake clutching a pillow, it was already 9:50 a.m.
She lay there groggy for a while, no trace of the man in the room. As her eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings, for a moment she thought she was in a hotel for a film shoot.
But this room was far more comfortable than any suite.
She felt clear-headed and refreshed after that sleep. Stretching lazily, she got up.
In the bathroom, clean clothes and toiletries had been neatly prepared. He Qingchi took ten minutes to wash and tidy herself, then stepped out of the room and went downstairs.
Qu Bixin and Song Chao were nowhere to be seen. Instead, she spotted Wen Shuchen in the dining room. He was alone, leisurely reading a newspaper, occasionally lifting a cup of coffee to his lips.
Perhaps hearing her soft footsteps, the man’s gaze shifted toward her.
“You’re awake?” Wen Shuchen set down his cup and pulled out the chair beside him.
On the table across, someone’s breakfast dishes were still left uncleared. With no better option, He Qingchi sat next to him, very close. She smoothed her long skirt and lifted her eyes to the man’s handsome profile. “Qu Bixin went home?”
Wen Shuchen gave a quiet hum, his lips carrying a gentle smile: “She just left about ten minutes ago. I arranged a driver and bodyguards for her.”
It sounded suspiciously like he was showing off.
He Qingchi gave him a perfunctory smile, the corners of her lips twitching faintly.
Wen Shuchen served her first, handing over a warm cup of soy milk. “Song Chao queued through several streets to buy this. Try it—do you like the taste?”
He Qingchi lowered her head and took a sip. The familiar taste made her smile faintly. “This is from the breakfast shop Qu Bixin used to drink every single day. Tastes no different from any regular soy milk… I don’t know why she was so obsessed.”
In essence, it wasn’t so different from Shen Fu.
The problem lay with Qu Bixin herself—she simply refused to let go.
“Maybe she just got used to it,” Wen Shuchen said.
He Qingchi glanced at him, then quietly continued eating.
The breakfast atmosphere was fairly calm. The man tried to keep up conversation: “Last night, Shen Fu took Shen Tingji to the hospital. I got a copy of her injury report.”
He Qingchi nodded, her red lips asking lightly: “Qu Bixin saw it already?”
“Mhm. She read it before leaving,” Wen Shuchen replied smoothly, waiting for her to respond.
But the woman kept her head down, silently eating. When she finally finished the last sip of soy milk, she simply wiped her lips with a tissue—clean, neat.
All of Wen Shuchen’s carefully prepared openings for conversation died in that silence.
“By the way,”
He Qingchi suddenly remembered, turning to him: “Don’t you need to be at the company this morning?”
Half the morning was already gone, yet he was still here, leisurely keeping her company.
Wen Shuchen noticed his presence had finally sunk in for her, and his expression softened into a warm smile. He lightly took her hand and said: “I’d rather stay with you. Is that alright?”
His palm was warm against hers. She blinked her lashes: “Then will you go shopping with me this afternoon?”
“Of course.” Wen Shuchen was only afraid she’d shake her head, insisting she had to return to the film set.
After all, they’d been in a cold war for a month. Now that he’d finally coaxed her back, he had no intention of letting her go so easily.
He Qingchi gave him a small smile. Seeing that, Wen Shuchen promptly lifted her into his arms from the chair, holding her close.
Before she could struggle, he murmured: “I’ve already sent Song Chao out.”
He Qingchi could only sit there, gaze lowered, staring at the man’s handsome, clean features. She didn’t know how to put it into words: “So you had this planned all along, huh?”
Wen Shuchen’s strong fingers clasped the back of her neck, gently pressing down as his thin lips seized the chance to cover hers.
A strawberry-flavored candy that he had been holding in his mouth for quite a while was slowly passed to her through the touch of their lips.
He Qingchi pinched at his tie with her fingertips, but she didn’t resist. After tasting that faint sweetness, her brows furrowed slightly: “Why are you feeding me candy?”
“So that when you wake up, your mood might be a little better.” Wen Shuchen had prepared this backup plan. His palm slid along her neck, lifting her face in his hand. His eyes carried a soft, coaxing smile.
Chewing the half-melted candy in her mouth, He Qingchi’s expression turned disdainful: “…How long was it sitting in your mouth?”
The smile in Wen Shuchen’s eyes deepened. He seemed to enjoy sharing this kind of intimate moment with her.
Even her anger was cut in half by his deliberate coaxing. For now, He Qingchi let it go, raising her arms around his shoulders and pressing her face against him. Her lips curved into a smile as she deliberately breathed against his ear: “Before bed last night, did you slip your hand inside my pajamas?”
Wen Shuchen’s gaze dimmed slightly, as if weighing how to answer.
One wrong word, and she’d have an excuse to make a scene again.
Seeing his troubled expression, He Qianchi’s smile brightened even more: “Think carefully before you answer!”
Wen Shuchen never admitted to sneaking his hand into her pajamas. He carried himself like the perfect gentleman. That morning, with nothing better to do, the two wandered around Yinhu Villa and even had roast suckling pig at the private restaurant there.
By the afternoon, He Qianchi decided to nap for an hour before going shopping.
Not long after she went upstairs, Wen Shuchen followed at a leisurely pace.
He unfastened his cufflinks and set them on the cabinet, closing and locking the bedroom door.
He Qingchi had changed out of her dress and into pajamas. Seeing him undo his shirt buttons one by one, she raised a brow: “What are you doing?”
“Sleeping with you for a while.” Wen Shuchen stepped forward, setting aside his tie and watch.
He pulled the lightly-dressed woman into his arms and lay down with her in the center of the bed.
Everything that followed happened naturally, though with a slightly different feeling.
It had been over thirty days since the last time. He Qingchi instinctively tried to dodge him. Her pale shoulders were tightly wrapped in the blanket, black hair scattered across the pillow, cheeks blushing deeper and deeper.
Wen Shuchen simply wrapped his arm around her and began telling her a story: “It was Shen Fu’s own brother who murdered Shen Tingji’s family…”
Her fingertips dug into the tattoo wound around his arm, but soon her attention drifted away. In the end, she was listening intently.
Wen Shuchen’s lips brushed against her ear, his warm breath lingering as he spoke slowly: “Shen Fu had an older brother who grew up with him, from a poor family. In school, he was the model student—brilliant in both character and academics—and also a prized pupil of Shen Tingji’s parents. But sixteen years ago, he murdered his own teachers and even cut out the tongue of their only daughter, Shen Tingji. That year Shen Fu was only twelve. His brother was sentenced to death, his parents were already gone… He had no family left. And so, all these years, that girl Shen Tingji could be said to have been raised personally by him.”
He called her a girl, because she was only twenty-one now.
“Then… does Shen Tingji still remember what happened back then?” He Qingchi’s lips trembled, clutching his arm tighter.
Wen Shuchen reached over for his pillow, and while speaking softly, he discreetly slid it beneath her waist: “Mm. She probably does.”
He Qingchi thought to herself—there was no way Qu Bixin could ever win.
This wasn’t just a matter of Shen Fu keeping a woman. This was him repaying his brother’s blood debt.
His family owed Shen Tingji two lives!
Wen Shuchen’s fingers covered her wide, astonished eyes. Lowering his head, he found her lips: “Do you feel better now?”
Her wandering soul was suddenly yanked back to reality by him. She drew in a deep breath, forehead pressing against his jaw, filled with his scent. Slowly, her body’s memory of him returned.
……
When it ended, the best time for shopping had already passed.
Wen Shuchen got out of bed, put on his trousers, and drew the curtains open. The glow of the sunset filled the room, shining onto the woman lying quietly in the white sheets.
He Qingchi was tired. Forcing her to go shopping was out of the question.
She wasn’t sleepy, just wanted to lie there in peace.
Meanwhile, Wen Shuchen was tidying the messy floor—picking up tissues, gathering their scattered clothes.
When he was about done, He Qingchi cursed at him: “You had that thing in your pocket last night. You and the director lured me to the hotel just so you could do this, didn’t you?”
Wen Shuchen had brought it as a precaution—to avoid another unprepared situation like before, when she had to take medicine after.
He poured her a glass of water with care, saying in his low voice: “Drink some water before scolding me. You were screaming for so long just now—your throat will get sore.”
He Qingchi flushed red, furious enough to commit domestic violence: “Don’t talk nonsense!”
What did he mean, she was screaming for too long?!
Utter nonsense!
Wen Shuchen sat at the edge of the bed, chuckling softly as his fingers combed through her messy black hair.
Still wrapped in the blanket, He Qingchi turned away, looking for a pillow. But when she spotted the two tossed at the foot of the bed, she remembered a certain detail. Her eyes darted away in embarrassment, and she rested her head on his thigh instead.
Lying there quietly for a while, she brought up his earlier story again: “Shen Fu only went after Qu Bixin because of her family’s money, right?”
She had thought so from the start—what kind of man climbs up in the world just by his looks? Certainly no good one.
Wen Shuchen didn’t comment on other people’s relationships. After a pause, he said: “How much Shen Fu really feels for your little friend—only he knows.”
He Qingchi’s lips curved with a cold smile: “A man who lies through his teeth—even if he has genuine feelings, what woman could endure them? If you ask me, Qu Bixin should pull back before it’s too late, otherwise by the time she realizes, Shen Fu will have ruined her so badly she’ll wish she were dead.”
Wen Shuchen’s gaze darkened with complex emotions. “You think Qu Bixin shouldn’t forgive Shen Fu?”
He Qingchi looked up at him seriously: “Why should she forgive him? In my eyes, the most important thing in marriage is loyalty. If a man can even lie about marriage, is there any point in spending a lifetime with him?”
Wen Shuchen was silent for a long while, his long fingers slowing as they twined gently through her black hair.
These thoughts, He Qingchi would never say in front of Qu Bixin. Only in front of Wen Shuchen. “She’s pitiful. Shen Fu even scams her for money. But if you were scamming marriage, I’d probably suspect you were just after my body instead…”
“Why bring us into it when you’re talking about Shen Fu?” Wen Shuchen cut her off just in time, releasing the strand of her hair and pulling her out from under the blanket, ending their little “married couple’s chat.”
“Go wash up…”
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