Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 83 - His Antidote
Chapter 83: His Antidote
“Did you drink?”
In the dim master bedroom, He Qingchi could just barely make out the man’s facial features. He was so close that she could smell the faint trace of alcohol on his breath. She didn’t like it, her fair cheeks burning under his heat.
Wen Shuchen’s hand slid along her slender waistline, as though searching for something, unbuttoning one of the buttons at her side without a word.
He Qingchi curled up, feeling as though even her freshly washed hair was being tainted by his alcohol scent. Her fingertips brushed against his bare chest muscles where he’d shed his shirt; maybe because of the alcohol, his body temperature was higher than usual, pressing against her with no restraint.
“—Wait a second.”
Her pale hand cupped his face, locking eyes with his dark, intense gaze. “Shen Tingji is still sitting downstairs. Did you see her when you came in?”
Looking down at her face, Wen Shuchen had none of his earlier composure from downstairs. Once he burrowed into the bed, he was just like a drunken man making trouble, blocking her lips while murmuring, “I had Song Chao look after her.”
He Qingchi thought Shen Tingji was really stubborn, still sitting in the living room at this hour.
She didn’t feel anything about being intimate with Wen Shuchen, and tugged her neckline back into place, pushing him away with distaste: “Go shower. Who taught you this bad habit of stripping and climbing straight into bed?”
Wen Shuchen had to sit up, his chest heaving, suit pants wrinkled, belt half undone.
Since there was someone downstairs, He Qingchi found it strange for the two of them to shut themselves in like this, so she refused to play along.
She deliberately ignored the very obvious outline at his zipper, tossing a pillow at him instead: “Where’s your medicine?”
She was already used to his unstable moods whenever he drank, planning to give him something.
But this man never took medicine in front of her, so she didn’t know if it was in the bedroom or the study.
Wen Shuchen pressed his fingers to his brow, seemingly suppressing his emotions, his voice low and hoarse: “I’ve quit.”
“You quit the medicine?” He Qingchi felt like he said it as casually as quitting smoking or drinking.
Wen Shuchen gave a low hum, offering no explanation of when.
After a while, he stood up, tall and steady enough, and walked to the bathroom.
He Qingchi followed out of bed. She wasn’t interested in watching him shower, but wanted to ask Song Chao downstairs about this so-called “quitting medicine.” She had just reached the staircase when she heard movement from the living room.
Puzzled, she walked down a few steps, just in time to hear Song Chao instructing the housekeeper: “Go tell Mr. Wen—Shen Tingji banged her head against the wall!”
“……”
As soon as the words landed, everyone in the living room saw He Qingchi appear.
And there lay Shen Tingji’s frail figure, collapsed not far from the wall, hair disheveled. There wasn’t blood everywhere, but a fresh wound marked her forehead, crimson streaks running down between her brows and eyes.
Song Chao’s eyes went wide—he clearly hadn’t expected someone to actually smash their head against a wall.
Seeing He Qingchi, he rushed up to complain: “I just went to the bathroom for a moment, and when I came back she’d hit the wall and collapsed…”
He Qingchi came closer to look but didn’t bend down. “Is she still breathing?”
Since the lady of the house was so calm, Song Chao steadied himself and replied, “There’s a gash on her forehead—concussion at least.”
“Then have someone send her to the hospital.”
He Qingchi handled it in just a few words, every inch the poised wife.
She’d seen plenty of women threatening suicide or self-harm to make a scene—thanks to the old master’s past affairs, outside women who wanted to enter the He family always made trouble before her, the legitimate eldest daughter.
Since childhood, she’d mastered how to deal with them without batting an eye.
Song Chao hurriedly told the bodyguards to carry her out. But this woman, who had been limp a second ago, suddenly used all her strength to break free and grabbed tightly onto He Qingchi.
Shen Tingji tilted her head back, her pale lips moving soundlessly.
He Qingchi looked at her calmly. Even with her arm clutched in a death grip, she only swept her gaze over and spoke first: “Shen Fu has been in Japan with Qu Bixin for more than just a night or two. If anything happened, they might already have a child. Now you’re smashing your head and making a scene—what can that change?”
Shen Tingji still stubbornly refused to let go, and when her mouth opened, a broken tongue was faintly visible.
He Qingchi actually tried persuading her gently: “If I were you, I’d just stay here in the villa these days, eat and drink well, and wait for Shen Fu to come back.”
Shen Tingji couldn’t speak. Blood slowly rolled down from her forehead across her brows, making her young, pretty face look rather frightening.
No one could pry her off. It was as if she saw He Qingchi as her last lifeline, clinging with white-knuckled fingers.
It was indecent for two men to manhandle a disabled woman, so He Qingchi told Song Chao not to interfere but to fetch the phone from upstairs.
Song Chao rushed up immediately. Two minutes later, Wen Shuchen descended, freshly changed into a clean shirt and suit pants, a phone in his hand. His face no longer carried any gentleness.
Clearly he had heard Song Chao’s report. He dialed Shen Fu in front of Shen Tingji.
When the call connected…
Wen Shuchen calmly recounted everything that had happened tonight, including Shen Tingji hitting her head and refusing the hospital.
Shen Fu was silent for three seconds, then his voice came through, addressing Shen Tingji: “I’m getting on a private jet to return to Jiangcheng now. Be good and go to the hospital with Mr. Wen to have your forehead treated. Before dawn, I’ll come to discharge you.”
The effect was almost unbelievably immediate—He Qingchi felt her arm suddenly lighten.
Shen Tingji quietly relaxed her grip and kept her pale lips pressed together.
Shen Fu then said a few more words to Wen Shuchen—no doubt asking him for another favor.
He Qingchi’s attention stayed on Shen Tingji, and she didn’t listen closely to the men’s small-talk. The woman’s expression gradually returned to an unusually calm composure; she no longer acted extreme, but sat on the sofa like a delicate little princess.
At one moment, their eyes met for a second.
Silently, it felt like a reminder to He Qingchi…
As long as Shen Tingji could contact Shen Fu, even across a thousand mountains and seas, she could call that man back to her side.
In that instant, He Qingchi couldn’t help thinking.
Had Qu Bixin finished her pills? Could she drug Shen Fu a second time?
The thought lasted only a second—He Qingchi didn’t alert Qu Bixin.
She realized that as long as Shen Fu stayed away from Jiangcheng another day, Shen Tingji would keep pestering her man.
Wen Shuchen hung up and first told Song Chao to take Shen Tingji to the hospital to treat her wound. Unexpectedly, the woman shook her head calmly, typed a line with her bloody fingers, and had it played as voice: “[Shen Fu told you to take me.]”
He Qingchi was still standing in the living room…
Those words fell on everyone’s ears. No matter Wen Shuchen’s attitude, Song Chao’s immediate reaction was, This is a performing-arts type—so theatrical, so melodramatic.
Wasn’t this plainly a provocation against the madam’s authority?
If it had been another woman, it might have sparked a full-on catfight. He Qingchi was simply too lazy to respond to the little mute’s provocation. Hearing the word “hospital,” she suddenly remembered Wen Shuchen’s daytime car accident.
Before Wen Shuchen could reply with a frown, she took the initiative: “Song Chao, get a car ready to go to the hospital.”
Shen Tingji was clearly stunned and stared at He Qingchi.
The more casual and composed He Qingchi was, the less Shen Tingji’s tactics worked.
While the car was still being prepared, she nonchalantly told Wen Shuchen: “I’ll go upstairs and change. I’ll go with you to the hospital and have a look at the injury.”
……
City center — the hospital.
He Qingchi insisted the doctor give Wen Shuchen a full check; she waited in the corridor while several black-clad bodyguards stood nearby, and Song Chao accompanied Shen Tingji to have the forehead wound examined.
This whole fuss had already pushed past midnight.
He Qingchi held Wen Shuchen’s coat and his phone in her hands.
With no one about to disturb her, she unlocked Wen Shuchen’s phone and called Meng Qingchang from his contacts.
At this hour, Meng Qingchang was probably resting; he wouldn’t necessarily pick up unfamiliar or casual calls, but Wen Shuchen’s number would be different.
When he answered, a woman’s gentle voice came through: “Dr. Meng? Sorry to bother you so late—did you agree to Wen Shuchen quitting his medication?”
Meng Qingchang’s drowsiness evaporated instantly—hanging up now would be unrealistic.
Cursing Wen Shuchen silently for being unreliable and for letting his wife handle his phone, he concealed it and asked calmly, “I understand. Mrs. Wen, what would you like to ask?”
He Qingchi just felt that Wen Shuchen had been taking medication for quite some time, and his sudden decision to quit seemed quite unexpected. So, she wanted to find out the reason.
He Qingchi explained her worry plainly and softly: “You know Wen Shuchen gets emotionally unstable when he drinks. He used to control it with medication. Now he’s suddenly stopped—are you sure that’s okay?”
Meng Qingchang hesitated a long moment, then offered an analogy: “Think of the medication like someone trying to quit smoking who carries mints. If Shuchen voluntarily stopped the meds, he’ll instinctively look for his remedy.”
He Qingchi fell silent—she understood precisely what Meng Qingchang meant.
He continued slowly on the phone: “In general, he might try to go to extreme lengths sexually—”
Perhaps considering she was the wife of a friend, he clipped the last words in time.
He Qingchi understood. She pressed her lips and asked, “If he can’t satisfy that need, might he harm himself?”
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