Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 104 - Had the Dream Again
Chapter 104: Had the Dream Again
He Qingchi had the same nightmare about the kidnapping again.
In the dark, low-ceilinged abandoned building, no one ever passed through. Flakes of white plaster had peeled off the walls and fallen onto the filthy concrete floor. Instant noodle cups, liquor bottles, and all kinds of trash littered the ground, giving off a nauseating stench.
She curled up in a corner, tears sliding helplessly down her cheeks. Her small hands wrapped around her knees, her trembling shoulders betraying her fear.
A tall, hideous figure appeared in the doorway. His palm dragged a chain along the floor, producing a cold, metallic scrape as he walked toward her, step by step.
Terrified, she squeezed her eyes shut. Just as the figure drew closer and closer, a silhouette suddenly rushed out and shielded her—
He Qingchi tore herself out of the nightmare’s terror, her head splitting with pain.
Beneath her, the sheets were soft, warm against her skin.
That warmth pulled her awareness back. She realized she was lying in her own room—not on the cold concrete of an abandoned building.
She took a deep breath to steady her emotions, then lifted the covers and got out of bed. She wore only a black silk cheongsam; her skin was an unhealthy pale, her thin arms exposed as if they might snap with the slightest pressure.
She was like a darkly blooming rose—beautiful, thorned, surviving in the shadows underground.
Barefoot, she walked to the vanity. He Qingchi opened a drawer and took out her medication and a cigarette case.
She swallowed a white pill first, easing the waves of pain in her chest and stomach. Then she lit a slender cigarette, holding it between her lips. Smoke curled into the air, and the strain in her eyes seemed to fade a little.
After half a cigarette, she began drawing her brows in the mirror.
It was just past seven in the morning when two knocks sounded on the door.
Outside came the voice of the secretary, Yao Jing. Three years ago, the He family hadn’t felt at ease letting her return to Wushan Town to live with her grandmother, so her father had sent the long-time personal secretary to attend to her.
“Young Miss, Miss He Li sent someone over to pick up the wedding dress—”
Sitting at the vanity, He Qingchi slowly put down her dark-colored brow pencil.
In the mirror, her makeup was flawless, no imperfections to be found—except for the faint red bloodshot in her eyes. For three years, she had lived impeccably before everyone, even hiding away her true emotions.
A few minutes later.
The once-closed door opened. Yao Jing kept her gaze lowered; all she saw was a swish of a black skirt at the doorway.
He Qingchi’s voice drifted out, cool, lazy, seductive—still carrying the haziness of just waking. “Have them wait in the courtyard.”
“There’s also Best Actress Zhu—her assistant is here to pick up the cheongsam reserved three months ago,” Yao Jing added.
He Qingchi’s grandmother came from a family that had served as imperial tailors for the palace. The craft had been passed down for generations. The elderly woman had long since closed her doors to clients, refusing even members of high society. But three years ago, He Qingchi inherited her grandmother’s dormant cheongsam business.
She had her own rules: she never entered fashion competitions, never loaned out her designs, and she alone set the price. If she didn’t want to tailor a piece for someone, no amount of money would move her.
With her grandmother’s reputation behind her and three years of her own craftsmanship, the social elite and fashion circles adored He Qingchi’s creations. Even top actresses would book a unique cheongsam months in advance for major red-carpet events.
While He Qingchi changed clothes in her room, Yao Jing brought in He Li’s people and the actress’s assistant to wait in the courtyard.
Morning sunlight warmed the yard—bright but not harsh—and stone stools were available for sitting.
But as soon as Yao Jing left, the actress’s assistant couldn’t resist whispering,
“I thought Sister Zhu was going to an international designer for her festival gown, but she sent me to this… countryside town instead. And get this—the so-called mysterious cheongsam master has no phone number. Can you believe that? She doesn’t use a phone!”
The moment she said it, He Li’s young secretary shot her a sideways glance.
The assistant, unaware of anything, simply assumed artisans were all eccentric.
After ten minutes, Yao Jing returned and invited them into the side hall.
They didn’t dare complain aloud and followed quietly.
The lighting inside was dim—not because the place was shabby, but because the decorations were refined, the air scented with sandalwood from a burning censer. The windows were covered with thick curtains, leaving only two candle-like lamps to illuminate the room.
From the side hall, the assistant could see into an inner room.
At a carefully maintained distance, she saw a woman standing before a heavy wooden table, her back turned. The woman’s figure was elegant in a perfectly fitted cheongsam; her black silk-like hair was gathered loosely. No matter the angle or the light, she appeared flawless.
The woman simply lifted her wrist slightly, her skin so pale it seemed to glow.
Even just her back made everyone present hold their breath in awe.
Yao Jing asked them to wait there, then entered the inner room to whisper briefly with He Qingchi. She carefully took a cheongsam from a clothing rack, placed it into a wooden box, and came out to hand it to the assistant. “This is the piece Miss Zhu ordered.”
The assistant accepted it with both hands, then hesitated, glancing again toward the inner room. “Um… I still haven’t paid the master.”
He Qingchi rarely interacted directly with clients, and Yao Jing always handled everything. Understanding the assistant’s implication, Yao Jing answered with her usual polite calm, “You can transfer the payment to my account.”
The assistant understood immediately and nodded.
Cradling the wooden box, she turned to leave—only to sneak one last look inside.
He Qingchi was smoothing a piece of silk on the table. Holding a pair of scissors, she cut along the markings with a crisp tear.
Completely unfazed by the people outside, she continued her work quietly, undisturbed.
After sending off the actress’s assistant, Yao Jing brought in the young secretary sent by He Li.
They were all from the He family, so naturally there wasn’t the same distance as with the celebrity’s assistant.
After entering, the secretary spoke respectfully to He Qingchi: “Young Miss, Miss He Li asked me to pick up the wedding dress.”
He Li had followed the family’s arrangement after graduation and married the eldest son of the influential Shao family. After a successful blind date, the two quickly finalized their engagement and began preparing for the wedding.
As He Li’s biological cousin, He Qingchi personally designed her wedding dress.
With only three days left before the ceremony, He Li had sent someone to retrieve it.
He Qingchi set down the silver scissors on the silk fabric and walked to a clothing rack in the corner of the room. She gently pulled off the white cloth covering the dress. Underneath hung an exquisite white wedding gown, every stitch hand-sewn by her, the delicate embroidery so fine it looked like an art piece.
She had finished the last details just the night before and instructed Yao Jing earlier to help take it down.
The secretary gasped in admiration. “Miss He Li will definitely love it.”
Anything made by He Qingchi—He Li, who had adored her cousin since childhood, had never disliked a single gift.
Yao Jing smiled. “Young Miss rushed this for a whole month.”
He Li had chosen the wedding date too suddenly; He Qingchi had even turned down a commission from a wealthy matriarch to free up time and finish this dress before the ceremony.
The secretary praised her several more times before adding, “Miss He Li told me to relay that you must attend the wedding as her witness.”
It wasn’t that He Li didn’t want to come ask in person—she was simply overwhelmed by the wedding preparations.
And since He Qingchi had gone without a phone for three years, all business was handled by Yao Jing; contacting her was never easy.
Qin Chuan had even joked once that they might have to write letters to keep in touch with her.
Hearing the message, He Qingchi lowered her eyes and replied calmly, “I’ll be there to congratulate her. Tell her to enjoy being a bride.”
With those words, the secretary could return to Yancheng to report back.
By late morning, everyone had been seen off.
The courtyard returned to its usual quiet, with only Aunt Zhang—who took care of the grandmother—making occasional sounds as she cleaned the house.
Yao Jing brewed a cup of calming tea and handed it to her. “Young Miss, you didn’t sleep well again last night, did you?”
Dressed in a cheongsam, He Qingchi reclined on the chaise lounge. At the question, she opened her eyes—still bloodshot. “Is it that obvious?”
Though she was technically placed by Father He to report back on He Qingchi’s wellbeing, Yao Jing truly cared for her. She placed a warm white towel over her eyes. “The corners of your eyes are all red. And half a box of your medicine is gone—you must’ve been taking it often lately…”
After childbirth, He Qingchi had fallen into depression. Her emotional state had been unstable, the nightmares of the kidnapping recurring, her insomnia returning as it had years ago. Her already frail body couldn’t withstand the repeated strain.
Later, after returning to Wushan Town with her grandmother, her contact with the outside world was completely severed—not even TV or newspapers. Only then did her condition slowly improve.
Once recovered, she took over her grandmother’s business. The past three years had passed peacefully.
In Yao Jing’s eyes, He Qingchi was saving herself by shutting herself away in Wushan Town.
She had been dreaming of the kidnapping for three years, and even doctors couldn’t help her escape it. She kept medicine close at all times and avoided interacting with the outside world. The only reason she was attending He Li’s wedding was because her cousin insisted on her being the witness.
The He family had never pressured her, but secretly, they hoped she could eventually leave Wushan Town.
As Yao Jing drifted out of her thoughts, she looked at the woman before her—her eyes covered by the warm towel, only her delicate features and chin visible. Softly, she asked, “Young Miss, when do you plan to return to Yancheng?”
The room fell silent. After a long moment, He Qingchi finally parted her lips and spoke just three words:
—“In three days.”
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