Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 66 - Shaken into a New Role, She became a Cast-off wife of a Wealthy Family
Chapter 66: Shaken into a New Role, She became a Cast-off wife of a Wealthy Family
Near eleven at night, the silent apartment was shrouded in darkness. The floor-to-ceiling window was cracked open, a cold wind lifting the sheer white curtain. The master bedroom door was tightly shut. After a few minutes, Qu Bixin washed the tear stains from her delicate face and walked into the living room.
She saw Shen Fu sitting silently on the sofa. His black shirt fit neatly against his chest, the crease of his tailored trousers running straight from the knee down, accentuating his tall frame and long legs. His side profile was sharp, his skin almost unnaturally pale beneath the standing lamp, like the sculpted silhouette of a man cloaked in aloofness and mystery—untouchable.
Unfortunately, Qu Bixin had no mood now to admire the man whose beauty she had obsessed over for four years.
She walked toward him, and Shen Fu’s half-lowered lashes slowly lifted.
Qu Bixin’s fingers were still cold and stiff as she picked up the two agreements from the table. Her dark, bright eyes no longer carried that sweet smile. Before leaving, she calmly settled their accounts: “This villa, you bought with your own money. The cars, too. Everything in this home was paid for by you. I won’t take a single thing—only this one billion. After that, we’re even.”
That one billion was compensation for the four years of her youth, a cold severance of all the feelings she had invested.
In this marriage, Qu Bixin chose to walk away with nothing.
The designer clothes and jewelry in the closet, the imported sports car in the garage he had ordered specially for her, even this villa that was registered under her name—she wanted none of it. Along with the man himself, she wanted none of it.
Shen Fu watched as she prepared to leave wearing nothing but a thin lace nightdress. The late autumn air outside was frigid, yet her stubborn nature refused even to take a coat. Her slender arms, pale from the cold, clutched the documents and her phone as she opened the door without hesitation.
He suddenly rose, grabbed his jacket and car keys, and in a few strides caught up with her just as she was about to leave the residential compound.
“I’ll drive you back to the Qu family.”
Qu Bixin’s eyes remained wide open, fixed on the street beyond the gates. Near midnight, hardly any cars passed by, the dim yellow streetlamps casting a bleak, lonely air.
She didn’t get into Shen Fu’s car. Without looking back, she headed for the quiet street to hail a cab.
Forty minutes later—
A black sedan approached from afar, picking up the woman who had been standing miserably at the roadside. In the backseat, He Qingchi instructed the driver to turn up the heat, then pulled a blanket over Qu Bixin’s trembling body, wrapped only in her nightdress.
Seeing her pale face devoid of color, her hands and feet ice-cold, He Qingchi remarked flatly, “So Shen Fu threw you out in the middle of the night, without even letting you take a change of clothes?”
Qu Bixin’s frozen fingers tightened around the two agreements. She lowered her eyes, silent.
Normally, she would have snapped back long ago.
Through the thin blanket, He Qingchi rubbed her shoulder gently, then glanced out the car window.
The car that had been idling not far away since she arrived slowly drove off in the opposite direction.
Inside, the atmosphere stayed quiet until Qu Bixin’s body warmed. Only then did she murmur, “Shen Fu divorced me.”
The words stung to hear. He Qingchi lowered her gaze to the papers in Qu Bixin’s hands.
She hadn’t even packed her luggage—just walked out wearing a nightdress, clutching divorce papers. For a society heiress who had never known hardship, tonight was her lowest point.
Qu Bixin slowly turned to the car window, staring at her own pale face, her swollen, red-rimmed eyes making her look like a ghost.
She drew a deep breath, biting her trembling lips, forcing out the words: “I’ve been married not even half a year, and I’ve already become the cast-off wife of a wealthy family!”
Beside her, He Qingchi tried to soothe her. “Shen Fu divorced you, gave you a settlement, and even left your dignity intact. As far as being a discarded heiress goes, you’re still better off than most.”
But Qu Bixin wasn’t comforted at all. She bit her lip harder. “He doesn’t like me—yet he has the face I like. It hurts so much. Four whole years… even if his heart was stone, I should’ve warmed it by now.”
In love, if right and wrong could be so easily distinguished, there would be no lovesick men or women.
He Qingchi didn’t tell her not to grieve. For anyone, such a blow would feel like the sky collapsing.
On the drive back to the Qu residence, she kept up small talk, not wanting silence to drag her friend into darker thoughts. “Look at it this way: with the money Shen Fu gave you, you’re free again. From now on, you could keep ten younger, handsomer men if you wanted. No need to pretend to be his type anymore. Isn’t that better?”
Qu Bixin kept her head lowered, staring again and again at the divorce papers. Coldly, she asked, “If it were Wen Shuchen divorcing you, could you just let go and raise other men instead?”
He Qingchi froze, caught off guard. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“You’ll have to ask him that.”
She said at last. After all, in her marriage, Wen Shuchen had been the one giving more.
Qu Bixin let out a long, hollow sigh. Her swollen eyes fixed on He Qingchi. “When men divorce, there’s always another woman waiting to step in. Even a man as cold as Shen Fu can’t wait to put that mute in my place.”
He Qingchi thought on it, realizing she couldn’t accept the idea of another woman at Wen Shuchen’s side.
Meanwhile, Qu Bixin carefully smoothed the crumpled divorce papers, her pitiful expression fading instantly.
Noticing her sudden shift, He Qingchi felt a twinge of unease. “What are you thinking?”
Qu Bixin lifted her head, asking seriously, “I’m thinking of going to the beauty salon tomorrow for a whitening treatment. Right now, does my face look green with envy?”
“……”
After half past one in the morning, He Qingchi safely delivered Qu Bixin back to her family home. The very woman who had been laughing and joking in the car seconds earlier now collapsed into her father’s arms, wailing as if her heart were being torn apart.
Her sobs trembled so pitifully they could have wrung tears from stone, as though she had suffered unbearable torment outside.
He Qingchi, recognizing the performance behind much of it, said nothing. She simply greeted Qu’s mother politely before taking her leave.
By the time she returned to her own place, the first half of the night was almost over.
The second floor of the villa was quiet. From the small gap under the master bedroom door, the faint glow of a table lamp could be seen. She slipped off her pointed high heels and gently pushed the door open, stepping inside.
Wen Shuchen was already resting, lying neatly on the bed in dark blue pajamas, hands placed over the blanket on his abdomen, his posture disciplined even in sleep.
She put down her heels, grabbed her nightdress, and went to the bathroom to wash up. After a while, she came out, turned off the lamp, and just as she was about to pull back the covers and lie down, a low voice sounded beside her: “You’re back.”
He Qingchi looked down and saw, through slightly blurred vision, that the man was awake. He reached out his long hand, groping until he pulled her close.
Their shared scent of shower gel mingled pleasantly together.
“Did I wake you?” He Qingchi asked, her forehead touching his jaw.
Wen Shuchen’s palm brushed her cold cheek in the dark. In a low voice, he said, “I wasn’t asleep. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You weren’t worried I’d stay at the Qu residence?”
Tonight, He Qingchi’s irritation toward him had completely shifted to Qu Bixin and her divorce. She nestled into Wen Shuchen’s arms, finding a comfortable spot, and held his hand.
He held her quietly for a long time without speaking, only the soft rhythm of his breathing audible.
He Qingchi wasn’t sleepy either. After a while, she leaned in and spoke to him about couples’ matters: “Qu Bixin told me she’d been married less than half a year and was already a cast-off heiress. Suddenly, I think my dad had a point when he made us marry secretly first… Do you think our situation is like a trial marriage?”
Wen Shuchen remained calm, eyes closed, ignoring her faintly relieved remark.
He Qingchi lifted her head from his chest and asked softly, “Did you sleep?”
The contours of his handsome face didn’t change, his breathing steady.
She wondered—had he really slept?
No one spoke to her, and she couldn’t continue her self-questioning. Her fingers had intended to touch his face but stopped, remembering he hadn’t slept all night, with only thirty hours left before having to wake for work…
She still cared for him, so she didn’t disturb him further.
He Qingchi slowly lay back, her fingers clutching a corner of his pajama top, closing her eyes.
The house gradually returned to silence.
Wen Shuchen, who had been lying with eyes closed, watched her face pressed against the pillow. Once she fell into a deep sleep, he pulled her gently back into his arms…
The next day, both of them unusually slept in until after eleven a.m.
He Qingchi had officially wrapped filming, leaving her with nothing to do, no early mornings at the set. She lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling for a long time.
Wen Shuchen hadn’t gone to the office either. He had changed into light gray casual loungewear and lay beside her. It was clear he had gotten up earlier, done some work, and then returned to lie next to her.
“In this past hour… anything urgent?”
He suddenly reached out, twining her hair around his long fingers, his low voice revealing a mischievous intent.
He Qingchi turned to look, meeting those unusually deep eyes.
She cleared her throat lightly, declining: “I wasn’t feeling anything this morning.”
Wen Shuchen paused, seemingly surprised by her direct refusal.
Before he could react further, He Qingchi had already pulled back the covers and gone to the bathroom with a pile of clothes.
She quickly washed up, tied her black hair low, revealing her smooth, delicate face. Her lips needed no lipstick; after dabbing off the water, she walked out.
Wen Shuchen had already tidied the bed and pillows, a model of domestic orderliness.
After a good sleep, He Qingchi gradually regained full alertness. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her fingers hooked onto the buttons of his shirt.
Wen Shuchen froze, looking directly into her eyes.
“About Duan Jinfan incident…”
She barely began when he calmly interrupted, “It was already settled last night.”
“Who settled it with you?” She had no idea.
He moved her pale fingers from the button and said matter-of-factly: “Consider it even. I warned you about the Qu family’s bankruptcy. Didn’t you remember?”
This man really knew how to keep score!
He Qingchi deliberately scowled, questioning him: “I’m starting to suspect you teamed up with Shen Fu to mess with the Qu family?”
“….” Wen Shuchen.
This time, he really was innocent. Besides, the Qu family had approached him first about the acquisition.
Seeing his complex expression, He Qingchi smiled, even while pretending to be angry.
Wen Shuchen expressed slight helplessness: “First, don’t imagine Shen Fu is that devious—setting a trap for the Qu family to divorce Qu Bixin? He could have just not registered the marriage to begin with, wouldn’t that have been simpler? Besides, the Qu family’s business was already in trouble a year ago; it has nothing to do with him.”
He Qingchi, listening carefully to his reasoning, dismissed her suspicion.
Then Wen Shuchen suddenly changed the subject: “Second, even if I were to team up with someone to set a trap, why target the Qu family? The only one I’d target is your He family.”
Set a trap for her father?
He Qingchi pressed her lips as if to scold him, but Wen Shuchen had already calmly left the master bedroom, refusing to argue over trivial matters.
——
In the afternoon, after accompanying her for a meal, Wen Shuchen changed into a sharp, formal suit to go to the office. He only left behind two bodyguards, ready to follow her instructions at any time.
He Qingchi leisurely brewed a cup of flower tea, standing on the open-air balcony in a high-neck dress, watching Wen Shuchen drive off. For a moment, she felt like a well-cared-for lady of leisure, pampered and supported by a man.
Half an hour later, a team of designers arrived, bringing her the latest seasonal clothes, jewelry, and bags.
All she had to do was sit on the sofa and look at what they presented. If something caught her eye, she kept it—purely to while away the long afternoon.
She idly scrolled through her phone, occasionally checking WeChat messages and Moments updates.
Around 4 p.m., Qin Chuan sent a shocked emoji, along with a voice message: “Little Green Tea divorced?”
Being the first to know, He Qingchi calmly replied: “Mm.”
Qin Chuan exclaimed: “Our circle is buzzing! They say Little Green Tea was abandoned by her suddenly wealthy husband, got ten billion in alimony—when did she start valuing money over a man’s face?”
He Qingchi replied: “Go ask her.”
Qin Chuan, sensing danger, said: “I’ll ask… I might be dead by tomorrow, Miss.”
“…”
“Your filming wrapped, right? Want to hang out?”
He Qingchi didn’t answer. She guessed he wanted gossip about Qu Bixin and flatly refused: “I’m staying home to wait for Wen Shuchen to have dinner.”
Qin Chuan: “When did you become such a good wife?”
Waiting obediently at home for a man’s dinner???
He Qingchi smiled without a word: “He spent a lot of money on me today; I should show some care and gentleness too.”
Even though Qin Chuan kept inviting her, she insisted on staying in and told the housekeeper to prepare a few extra dishes.
By seven p.m., He Qingchi was curled up on the sofa with a blanket over her knees, watching a movie, occasionally glancing outside, patiently waiting for Wen Shuchen to return from work.
Ten minutes passed…
Even twenty minutes, and he still hadn’t come home.
He Qingchi didn’t rush, calmly continuing the movie until Song Chao called.
She answered on speaker.
Song Chao said: “Madam, Mr. Wen isn’t coming home tonight.”
Hearing this, He Qingchi frowned but remained calm: “Which woman’s place is he staying at?”
“No, no—”
Song Chao panicked at the possible misunderstanding: “Mr. Wen went to see a doctor, the one surnamed Meng…”
“Meng Qingchang.”
“Yes, Dr. Meng,” Song Chao said with a forced smile. “Mr. Wen might stay over there, but there’s absolutely no woman. If there were, I swear—”
“If Wen Shuchen has a woman, your thunder strike is none of my business,” He Qingchi lightly laughed, tone unreadable.
Song Chao, embarrassed: “I… I meant a thunder strike on Mr. Wen.”
He Qingchi, in no mood for his flippant words, turned off the movie, not even finishing the last few minutes, picked up the speakerphone, and said: “I have nothing to do. I might as well see Wen Shuchen get treated, broaden my horizons.”
Seeing a psychologist for treatment—what’s so eye-opening about that…
Song Chao was silent, then heard He Qingchi leisurely say: “If you don’t give me the address, I’ll just assume Wen Shuchen is cheating.”
A second of silence.
Song Chao surrendered: “Madam, I’ll send someone to pick you up.”
Before the driver arrived, He Qingchi went upstairs to change into something suitable for going out. Thinking that Meng Qingchang and Wen Shuchen were longtime friends, she couldn’t just show up bare-faced.
She lightly applied makeup, a touch of lipstick, her fair skin making her look healthy.
Meng Qingchang’s studio wasn’t in a prime downtown area but in a quiet location, not far from the city center, away from crowded places. It seemed small; outsiders would rarely be received without an introduction.
After the round trip by the driver, He Qingchi arrived near nine p.m., night falling outside.
Song Chao personally greeted her at the door and led her upstairs. The studio’s design was tasteful yet minimal, predominantly light-toned, spacious with few people. Incense burned on a cabinet, filling the air with a delicate fragrance.
He Qingchi instinctively lowered her voice, following Song Chao’s lead.
He stepped closer, whispering: “Madam, please sit on the sofa. Mr. Wen is still being treated.”
As he said this, He Qingchi’s gaze shifted and caught a stranger coming out. At the moment the door opened, she saw Wen Shuchen reclining in an armchair nearby, soft music playing.
The door closed behind her, and Song Chao greeted the man: “Dr. Meng.”
He Qingchi’s eyes slowly landed on him. The man noticed her, removed his glasses, and stepped forward, extending a hand: “You are Shuchen’s newlywed wife? I’m Meng Qingchang, his psychologist.”
He Qingchi looked at his well-defined hand, then up to his neat sleeves, probably a clean-freak habit. She politely shook his hand: “I’m He Qingchi. Nice to meet you.”
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