Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 65 - Return You One Billion to Dissolve the Marriage
Chapter 65: Return You One Billion to Dissolve the Marriage
The private room door was pushed open, and inside it was lively and noisy.
Just as Song Chao was drinking with the assistant director, he was suddenly called out by He Qingchi. The two exchanged a brief greeting and left early. Outside the Penglai Palace, the driver had been waiting all along and pulled the car up to the entrance.
After He Qingchi bent down and got in, the bodyguard handed her a thin blanket, hot water, and some hangover medicine.
She took them but didn’t drink, instead turning her head to look at Song Chao sitting in the second row of seats, taking medicine. Coldly, she asked: “Did Wen Shuchen mess up Duan Jinfan’s next drama?”
“Cough, cough!”
Song Chao nearly spat it out, but the pill got stuck in his throat, and he coughed heavily.
He didn’t dare turn around, his guilty conscience showing.
He Qingchi’s voice was chilly: “Let me tell you a story—once, a man lied to me. Later, he almost died for it.”
“Madam, I’m innocent in this matter.” Song Chao, valuing his life, betrayed Wen Shuchen without hesitation: “President Wen didn’t ban Duan Jinfan completely… he just wanted to teach him a lesson, so he’ll know to keep his distance from you in the future.”
Hearing Song Chao personally admit it, He Qingchi stayed silent for a while.
Last time, because Wen Yue called her on the phone, Wen Shuchen went back to the family estate that same night and broke his hand.
And now, he ruined Duan Jinfan’s lead role in a historical drama—just because of an online rumor with her?
He Qingchi furrowed her brows slightly, almost cursing aloud: “And he calls it emotional indifference disorder… no one is more petty than him.”
Song Chao shrank his neck, suppressing the urge to cough again.
The car fell into silence.
He Qingchi closed her eyes briefly, calming her emotions.
“Madam, are we still going home?” After a while, Song Chao asked weakly.
“Why wouldn’t I go home?” she replied expressionlessly.
Song Chao instantly felt relieved—his biggest fear was that she’d pull another “runaway from home” stunt. He forced a smile: “As long as you go home, that’s good.”
He Qingchi unscrewed the water bottle and took a sip. After a moment, she looked up at the foolishly grinning Song Chao and instructed: “Call right now and fix the mess with Duan Jinfan’s role. Otherwise, I’ll go home—and you won’t.”
Song Chao’s smile slowly faded. He didn’t dare defy the Madam President’s orders.
After hesitating for a while with his phone in hand, he tried to salvage the situation: “But won’t President Wen be angry?”
He Qingchi gave him a small smile: “And you still care about whether Wen Shuchen gets angry? When it all comes out, do you think he’ll care if you live or die?”
The next second—
Song Chao dialed the number without hesitation.
That very night, He Qingchi used Wen Shuchen’s influence to restore the resources Duan Jinfan had lost.
Their friendship, however, was likely over.
She sent him an apology text. His reply was polite and distant. In short: once the movie was finished, they’d keep their distance and stay like strangers.
That way, neither side would get hurt.
He Qingchi understood and immediately cleared all her Weibo posts, including the side-profile photo of Duan Jinfan from the wrap party, so no one would dwell on it.
Back at Wen Shuchen’s private villa—
She went upstairs first, grabbed a clean dress from the dressing room, and showered. Drying her hair, she came out.
The second floor was quiet. Looking down from the balcony, she saw only a few black-suited bodyguards at the gate. Song Chao was long gone.
He was probably off reporting to his boss.
He Qingchi tossed aside the damp towel, grabbed a pillow, and sat on the sofa on the balcony. Her half-dry hair fell loosely on her shoulders, swaying in the evening breeze.
Time ticked by. Outside, the villa’s lights glowed faintly in the night.
She propped her chin on her hand, slowly organizing her thoughts from tonight.
Her phone on the coffee table lit up, a message from Wen Shuchen flashing on the screen:
He Qingchi looked over and a few words caught her eyes: [Give me a chance to coax you.]
She didn’t reply. Soon, another message came: [Go home immediately.]
Tonight, he actually had an important drinking engagement. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have missed even his wife’s wrap party. He Qingchi wasn’t so furious as to cause a scene; her mood still looked calm.
Her fair fingers picked up the phone, typing back a few words: [You go ahead and finish your work.]
Seeing that she was willing to respond, Wen Shuchen immediately sent a video call request.
He always knew how to seize an opportunity—never letting one slip by.
He Qingchi accepted. Soon, the screen lit up with the man in his tailored suit, the background a luxurious banquet hall. He had stepped into a quiet corner. Not far away, several sharp-looking men and women in suits and evening gowns mingled.
The first thing He Qingchi noticed was the champagne in his hand. Her face tightened: “You’ve been drinking?”
“Not much,” Wen Shuchen’s deep voice answered as his eyes carefully studied her.
He Qingchi gave a soft huff, hugging her knees and curling up on the sofa. Her hair shone softly in the light, her face so small it didn’t even fill the screen. She didn’t look particularly angry.
Wen Shuchen felt slightly relieved. Before she could press him about his “crime,” he hurriedly said in a low voice: “Let me give you some inside news to make up for it, okay?”
He was a skilled businessman. He knew how to negotiate—even with her.
He Qingchi pursed her lips, considering. “You ruin Duan Jinfan’s resources, and now you think you’re the one in the right?”
“I shouldn’t have done that…”
But he didn’t regret doing it.
Wen Shuchen’s words carried an unspoken meaning, and He Qingchi understood.
She had the urge to hang up the video call, but reason calmed her down. “What is it you want to tip me off about?”
Wen Shuchen paused for a moment, as though organizing his excuse, then finally spoke: “The Qu Corporation is currently in financial crisis and will be acquired with my investment.”
“……”
The air froze for a second.
He Qingchi couldn’t hold it back—really couldn’t: “That counts as a tip-off? Wen Shuchen, are you calling the thief to catch the thief?!”
“Qingchi, even if I don’t acquire the Qu Corporation, someone else will.” Wen Shuchen calmly reminded her.
When it came to business, men like him always put reason far above sentiment.
And it wasn’t just because his wife happened to be friends with the Qu family’s daughter—he would acquire it regardless, even if they were blood relatives.
Through the screen, He Qingchi locked eyes with him for a long while before asking: “Does Qu Bixin know?”
Wen Shuchen: “Shen Fu knows.”
“……”
He Qingchi thought and thought again, and in the end couldn’t stop herself from cursing in her heart: “So Shen Fu used the Qu family to climb up, and you’re acquiring the Qu family’s business… Did the Qu family in Jiangcheng run out of luck for eight lifetimes straight?”
Wen Shuchen could sense her disdain. He held back what he was about to say, and instead changed the subject: “Tonight, I’ll come home early to keep you company.”
He Qingchi couldn’t be bothered with him anymore and hung up the call.
She sat on the sofa quietly for a while, then opened her contacts and found Qu Bixin’s number, dialing it.
The phone rang while Qu Bixin was sitting at the dining table, where several rich dishes had long gone cold, untouched. She wore a black lace nightdress, thin straps slipping to reveal pale, delicate shoulders under the light.
The ringtone rang once and was hung up. Then it rang again.
Qu Bixin didn’t answer. Not until several dozen seconds later, when it hung up automatically.
Her dark pupils shifted slightly, moving away from the divorce agreement and property division contract in front of her. Slowly, she raised her head toward the man sitting opposite her—the man she had lived with for four years.
Ten minutes earlier, his cold, emotionless voice had stated matter-of-factly: “You may choose not to divorce. The position of Mrs. Shen will always be yours. But the Qu Corporation is about to be acquired. Your father has already met with Wen Shuchen and intends to hand the company over to him.”
“If you sign these two agreements, you can use the money to help the Qu Corporation survive this crisis.”
Qu Bixin’s eyes were misty, something rolling in her sockets, threatening to fall at any moment. Her fingers were stiff, weak, unable to lift even slightly. Her voice, squeezed from her throat, was hoarse and pained, but the words were still clear: “When I first got engaged to you, you took ten million from my family as startup capital. Four years later, you now give me one billion to dissolve this marriage. Is it to make way for Shen Tingji?”
Shen Fu’s face was unmoved, his thin lips pressed shut, not bothering to explain a word.
From the day she was born, Qu Bixin had never been neglected by her family, raised with the utmost care.
Even when she had caused scandal by running away with a poor boy and shaming her parents, in the end the Qu family had compromised, preparing her a generous dowry, afraid that she would suffer if she stayed with this man.
The choice was already laid bare before her.
Her heart aching, Qu Bixin’s pale, delicate face curved into a bitter smile. “It’s because my Qu family ran the business poorly that you found a loophole to exploit.”
After she said that, she stubbornly held his gaze, trying to find a crack in his calm, unmoved features. But there was none. From beginning to end, he remained composed before her—never impulsive, never emotional.
She had once thought his maturity and restraint at such a young age must have come from hardship in his youth.
Now she realized it was all her wishful thinking. It wasn’t that he lacked emotions—she was simply unworthy of being the one to stir them.
Qu Bixin lowered her eyes again, her gaze falling back on the divorce papers. Her fingertips remained cold and rigid.
The patience Shen Fu had for her—for these four years, perhaps for his entire life—was being spent now… patiently waiting for her to pick up the pen on the table and sign her name on both documents.
In the long silence, Shen Fu lifted his eyelids and glanced at her, his eyes faint, almost void of emotion: “You can choose not to sign.”
“Do I really have a choice?” Qu Bixin’s expression was like it had been doused in icy water. Her words were quiet, but her heart stung as if pricked.
There was no choice.
If the Qu family really went bankrupt and was acquired, her father’s lifetime of hard work would be gone—never to rise again.
Qu Bixin closed her eyes briefly and saw the man before her clearly for who he was.
After a few seconds of silence, her stiff fingers finally picked up the pen. Once she had made her choice, she didn’t hesitate—signing her name, the name she had written countless times before, neatly across both the divorce agreement and the property division contract.
Qu Bixin—
The author has something to say:
Shen Fu: “I personally forced my wife to divorce me. Can anyone be more ruthless than that?”
Next door, Shao Qixiu: “I admire you!”
Qu Bixin’s CP is this ruthless man, Shen Fu. The ending will be “Chasing wife, crematorium.” No replacements!
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