Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 92 - He Won Her Heart
Chapter 92: He Won Her Heart
A week later.
He Qingchi returned to Yancheng for the New Year. Before heading home, she first went to Wushan Town to spend two days with her grandmother, then took a car to the He residence.
No one was happier about her spending the Spring Festival with her natal family than Father He himself.
He had thought his daughter would stay with the Wen family this year, but unexpectedly, she came home.
In his joy, Father He had been leaving work early for the past two or three days, cancelling social dinners just to have supper with his daughter.
He even wanted to invite his mother-in-law from Wushan Town over, but the elderly woman, long used to living alone, didn’t wish to join the He family’s lively reunion.
He Qingchi also found time to visit the Wen family home in Yancheng with her grandmother. After all, Wen Shuchen’s relatives were her relatives too, and it had been the Wen matriarch who had come forward to arrange the marriage in the first place. As a junior, it was only proper for her to pay her respects.
Around the Spring Festival, He Qingchi was busy at the He residence, greeting family and friends upstairs and down.
On New Year’s Eve, thick snow suddenly began to fall outside.
The He family villa was brightly lit, three generations gathered together. Several younger cousins and the housekeeper bustled in the kitchen preparing dishes, and after the reunion dinner, everyone followed their old tradition—sitting with the He family matriarch in the living room, drinking tea, chatting, and watching the gala.
During a quiet moment, He Qingchi slipped away alone to the second-floor balcony.
Outside, fine snowflakes still drifted down. Because the villa was well-heated, she wore only a light red cotton dress cinched at the waist—cheerful for the holiday, but the thin fabric let in a chill whenever the cold wind blew.
She looked out at the silent scene beyond, such a stark contrast to the warm bustle inside.
Leaning on the railing, she slowly wondered what Wen Shuchen was doing at that moment.
Perhaps sitting among his pack of scheming relatives at the Wen residence, smiling politely over tea. Or maybe he was busy with company matters.
She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there when her phone suddenly rang.
He Qingchi paused, looked down, and took it out.
The screen lit up with Wen Shuchen’s name, and the glow reflected off her face—softening it into a smile of delight.
Three hours earlier.
Wen Shuchen had just finished tea at the company with a senior shareholder, exchanging a few words about his father’s health.
Ever since He Qingchi returned to her family home, his attention had shifted fully to work.
It was as if he’d gone back to his single days—living mostly in hotels for convenience, seldom returning to the villa.
Even on New Year’s Day, he spent the daylight hours juggling meetings with upper management. When a few business friends called to invite him to a gathering at a club that evening, he brushed them off indifferently.
No one knew that Wen Shuchen hadn’t even gone back to the old Wen residence—too weary to face the family drama.
When night fell.
He left the company and instructed his bodyguard to drive to the hospital, to visit his father, who had been moved to the ICU.
That year, the Wen residence had no trace of a festive atmosphere. Qiu Jin, soon to be a widow, had no energy for decorations. Her face was pale, and whenever relatives came to visit, she would clutch their hands and cry about how hard her life had been.
By the time Wen Shuchen arrived, the hospital room was quiet and empty.
He walked to the bedside, looking down at the frail, unconscious old man. Tall and composed, he stood there for a long time, gaze lowered to the haggard, aging face.
“Seeing the father you’ve hated for so many years lying here, dying— is this the day you’ve been waiting for?”
Qiu Jin’s cold voice came from the doorway.
Wen Shuchen didn’t turn around. His expression remained calm, as though he hadn’t heard a word.
She continued, her tone sharp: “Do you know why he never liked you? Because he saw your true nature long ago—cold, withdrawn, unfeeling. That’s why he brought Wen Yue into the family, adopting him under a false name, hoping he could be your companion. He still had some faith that, because you two grew up together, you’d at least have brotherly affection and let Wen Yue have a place in the family when the time came to restore his name.”
“Haha…”
She gave a low, bitter laugh and stepped closer, lowering her voice: “But he never really understood you—the legitimate son raised by the patriarch himself. You’ve always seen Wen Yue as nothing more than a dog raised in the Wen household, a toy to amuse yourself with when you were bored. How could someone like you ever know brotherhood?”
Wen Shuchen’s dark eyes turned to her, his tone cuttingly calm. “Qiu Jin, all your noble justifications can’t hide the truth of how Wen Yue was conceived.”
That was the deepest wound of Qiu Jin’s life. She trembled with hatred. “If it weren’t for that sickly woman marrying into the Wen family first, I would have been the rightful Mrs. Wen! She barely lived a few years, yet she still dragged her frail body to give birth to you—just to secure her family’s position with the patriarch’s help! No one’s hands are clean… Wen Shuchen, if only your mother had never given birth to you…”
“Your father’s dying, and he’s still fighting you for control of the family. I told him—he’s halfway in his coffin already, why keep struggling? But he doesn’t trust me and Wen Yue. He’s afraid once he’s gone, we’ll have nothing left—thrown out of this house.”
“Look at us—your father and I, so in love,” she said with venomous irony. “If your mother hadn’t forced herself to have you, my son would have been recognized properly long ago. You were cruel even then—Wen Yue stayed by your side for years, and in return, you threatened the old man to keep him off the family register.”
There were too many things Qiu Jin hated.
In her eyes, she wasn’t a thief or a usurper—
It was Wen Shuchen’s sickly mother who was!
If not for that woman and her son, she and Wen Yue would have lived the life they deserved, not half their years in struggle and schemes within the Wen residence.
Now that Wen Jingchun was dying, there was no one left to protect her and her son.
Her voice dropped, each word poisoned with spite: “You never should’ve been born. Your mother stole my man, and you—her son—stole Wen Yue’s inheritance. You and your mother are both murderers!”
She lunged toward him like a madwoman, trying to grab his suit.
But the bodyguards stepped in before she could touch him, shoving her roughly onto the sofa.
Wen Shuchen looked down at her, eyes cold as if watching a lunatic.
Qiu Jin laughed and wept at once, utterly deranged. “Your father’s dead… hahaha—he’s dead, and even then he won’t forgive you!”
The hospital room was silent again. It was the New Year, and there were hardly any nurses on duty.
The woman’s crying and shouting echoed throughout the entire ward.
It didn’t stop until Wen Shuchen finally left the room, his figure disappearing in the direction of the elevator.
That night, snow was still falling in Jiangcheng. The streets were lined with festive red lanterns, yet hardly anyone was around.
Sitting silently in the back seat, Wen Shuchen asked the bodyguard for a cigarette. He lit it without expression, the dim light tracing the outline of his face as he smoked it slowly to the end.
The bodyguard didn’t dare make a sound, quietly keeping his eyes on the passing buildings outside.
By the time Wen Shuchen finished smoking, his face had returned to its usual calm, unreadable composure.
He took out his phone. The screen lit up with a flood of New Year’s messages—the time showed 8:10 p.m.
Then the bodyguard spoke carefully: “Mr. Wen, if we head to Yancheng now, we can still make it in time for the New Year’s Eve vigil.”
After a moment’s silence, Wen Shuchen put his phone away and said in a low, even voice, “How far is Wushan Town?”
The bodyguard checked the GPS and estimated, “Less than two hours… maybe just over an hour if we drive fast.”
“Go buy some gifts.”
Wen Shuchen’s long fingers gestured through the tinted window toward a brightly lit shop by the roadside.
……
Yancheng.
On the second-floor balcony, He Qingchi immediately answered Wen Shuchen’s call when it came through.
She held the phone to her ear, hearing only the low sound of his breathing at first, her heart filling with warmth and excitement. “Have you eaten New Year’s dinner yet?” she asked with a smile.
It was quiet on his end; his deep voice finally murmured a soft reply.
Then he asked, “Video call?”
He Qingchi hadn’t seen him for quite some time, and of course, she missed him too.
She agreed right away. When the video invitation came, she instinctively ran a hand through her hair and adjusted her dress, then angled the camera carefully before answering.
She had assumed she would see Wen Shuchen sitting in the old Wen residence—or perhaps in some elegant private dining room surrounded by successful businessmen celebrating the holiday. But when the video connected, what appeared on the screen was somewhere surprisingly familiar.
He Qingchi blinked, stunned, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her.
Then Wen Shuchen tilted his phone, turning the camera toward an elderly woman in a festive qipao beside him.
“Grandma!!”
The old lady was dressed beautifully in a red-and-purple silk cheongsam, sitting upright in the courtyard. A table in front of her was filled with New Year’s gifts and food. Her wrinkled face broke into a delighted smile as she said to the camera, “A young man came knocking tonight, said he was my granddaughter’s husband… I thought to myself, isn’t my dear girl spending the New Year with the He family? I figured it must be some fellow trying to trick an old woman like me—so I came to take a look. Turns out it really is my granddaughter’s husband, isn’t it?”
He Qingchi’s cheeks flushed at her grandmother’s teasing, though there was something else in her throat—an emotion she couldn’t quite name.
Ever since her mother’s fatal car accident, her grandmother would often sigh that life and death are fated.
Though she never completely severed ties with the He family for her granddaughter’s sake, the resentment had never fully faded.
Grandmother preferred spending the New Year alone in the countryside rather than joining the He family festivities.
For several years, He Qingchi had stayed behind to accompany her, but as the He family’s daughter, she couldn’t avoid being pulled between both sides.
Seeing Wen Shuchen appear in her grandmother’s home was both shocking and deeply moving.
Tears welled in her eyes; she blinked them back quickly.
On the screen, Wen Shuchen gave her a gentle smile. “Grandma told me you love staying by the fire in the courtyard on New Year’s Eve, listening to her stories. So tonight, I’m keeping her company. Later, I’ll tell you the stories myself.”
He Qingchi’s fingertips brushed over his smiling face on the screen, her heart melting completely. “Okay… then when are you coming to visit your father-in-law? My dad’s been complaining that his son-in-law didn’t even come home for New Year’s.”
She spoke in a light, teasing tone—mindful that her grandmother was still nearby.
Wen Shuchen promised he would visit Yancheng before the sixth day of the Lunar New Year.
After a while, Grandmother excused herself.
Leaving the courtyard to give them some privacy.
He Qingchi watched him sitting there in his tailored dark gray suit, the red lanterns hanging from the tree branches above, a thin layer of snow covering the ground. His handsome face was bathed in the warm glow of the courtyard lights—so strikingly beautiful that even the curve of his smile looked flawless.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Only after being apart and seeing him through a video call did she realize—
Just how much she missed him.
As if reading her thoughts, Wen Shuchen asked softly, “Missed me?”
He Qingchi nodded honestly, tracing his features through the screen with her pale fingers. “Shuchen, what made you think to visit Grandma tonight?”
This unexpected gesture of his had completely won her heart—
And earned him no small share of affection from her grandmother too.
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