Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 107 - Hearing Him Say ‘Qingchi’—That Familiar Tone She Hadn’t Heard in so Long—Made Her Cry Again
Chapter 107: Hearing Him Say ‘Qingchi’—That Familiar Tone She Hadn’t Heard in so Long—Made Her Cry Again
Wen Shuchen was standing right in front of her. Just like years ago, he still wore a light gray, custom-tailored suit; his tie and shirt buttons were perfectly neat. He only looked thinner now. The handsome contours of his face appeared pale and tired under the lights, yet his eyes were deep and unreadable as they fixed on her.
In a daze, He Qingchi’s memories of him were still stuck at that Wen family funeral—across the crowd, she had seen his shirt stained with blood while the family doctor and bodyguards surrounded him.
Now the two of them were within an arm’s reach, as if she only had to stretch out her hand to touch him.
He Qingchi’s mind went completely blank. In this moment, no matter how many words she wanted to say, not a single one could come out.
She had no voice, didn’t know what to say.
Wen Shuchen quietly waited for her to steady herself, his expression gentle. After all these years apart, he still had endless patience for her.
After a while, the child who had thrown himself excitedly into his father’s arms suddenly turned his little head and, in a sweet childish voice, called out to He Qingchi: “Little Sister Xiao Chi, this is my daddy!”
It snapped her out of the daze as if waking from a dream, and panic flooded beneath her lashes.
She wasn’t ready. She had no way to handle a reunion like this.
He Qingchi lowered her head, desperately trying to control her emotions. She reached out and directly pulled open the car door.
She didn’t even have time to gather her skirt before stepping out. Only then, standing on the busy street, did she notice that several cars had surrounded them. A number of men in black suits sat quietly nearby. She didn’t see Qu Bixin anywhere—every face was unfamiliar.
And she, a thin, solitary figure next to the car, suddenly had nowhere to go.
Inside the car, Wen Shuchen left the child in the back seat and stepped out as well, tall legs closing the distance.
He intentionally gave her space, so he didn’t walk toward her aggressively.
Standing a short distance away, his deep voice drifted through the night breeze: “It’s cold out here—you’ll catch a chill. Let’s get back in the car, okay?”
He Qingchi’s lips trembled several times, holding back her tears. The corners of her eyes were red. Back when they separated, she had so many things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t even see him once—not a single call got through.
Now Wen Shuchen was standing here safe and alive, and she didn’t know how to begin.
From the moment he entered the car, she hadn’t spoken a single word.
Wen Shuchen was the only one talking, his tone gradually softening: “Or… if you want to return to the He family or back to Wushan Town, I can drive you.”
When he said “Wushan Town,” his expression didn’t change at all.
As if he understood everything about her in these years.
The street was blocked and pedestrians were staring. If she kept standing outside—especially with Wen Shuchen’s identity—the news would explode tomorrow. So after collecting herself, head lowered, she walked past the front of the car toward the front passenger seat.
Perhaps she truly didn’t know how to face this father and son from the back seat.
She chose to hide in the passenger seat. As soon as she closed the door, another sound followed.
Wen Shuchen got into the driver’s seat.
He Qingchi raised her head, red-eyed, watching him lock the windows and start the car. They pulled away from the street, leaving the bodyguards behind.
Her throat tightened again; she quickly looked down at her skirt.
In the back seat, the little boy behaved perfectly for his father, sitting still, his big dark eyes curiously watching the front.
Ten minutes later, Wen Shuchen’s low voice came again: “I’ll take you back to the He residence, alright?”
He asked for her opinion before doing anything.
As if he was waiting—hoping—to hear her speak.
He Qingchi’s fingers turned pale gripping her skirt. She could no longer pretend to stay silent.
If he drove her back to the He residence, the entire place would erupt into chaos tonight.
She had shut herself away in Wushan Town for three years, completely cut off from the world. She didn’t know what had happened to the Wen family, whether Wen Shuchen had recovered, why the child was brought by Shen Fu to He Li’s wedding…
All the questions piled in her chest, tangled in complicated emotions.
Finally, her voice tightened as she said, “Take me to the airport.”
Just five words. She refused to say even one more.
Wen Shuchen drove steadily—his wife and child were inside; he couldn’t allow even a hint of recklessness.
At a red light, he finally turned to look at her—her curled lashes lowered, eyes fixed on her skirt.
He Qingchi was like a frightened bird desperately trying not to look at him or the child. The pain buried deep in her heart was waking again—warning her.
Wen Shuchen never forced her, no matter what she wanted to do.
And now wasn’t the time to talk calmly. When they arrived at the airport, Wen Shuchen spoke first: “I booked your ticket…”
He Qingchi quietly thanked him, unbuckled her seatbelt, and pushed open the door.
Under the night sky, her thin and beautiful figure fled in a panic, quickly blending into the crowd. In the car, Wen Shuchen sat silently. His bodyguards soon followed after her.
“Daddy… I think Mommy got really scared.” The little boy peeked his head out from behind the seat, wobbling adorably, his childish voice sounding a bit wronged.
Wen Shuchen gently stroked his son’s head, voice low and warm as he taught him: “When you see Mommy later, how should you comfort her?”
“Give her a kiss for Daddy!”
At the same time that He Qingchi was heading to the airport to return to Wushan Town, Qu Bixin was being dragged away from the street by Shen Fu, his hand clamped firmly around her wrist.
Her high heels were sharp and thin—she couldn’t walk fast in them. After just a few steps, she glared at the man beside her, who had a cigarette between his fingers and looked like a polished scoundrel in his immaculate suit. “Shen Fu, are you kidnapping me?!”
Probably annoyed by her doll-like screeching, Shen Fu’s brows darkened. He suddenly wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her up, and strode toward his private car parked not far away.
Qu Bixin was practically thrown into the back seat. She landed so hard her head went dizzy. By the time she regained her senses, Shen Fu was already in the driver’s seat, starting the engine and driving off.
The windows were all locked. Even if she screamed her lungs out, it wouldn’t matter.
Furious, Qu Bixin yanked off her stiletto heel and threw it at him.
It hit Shen Fu’s arm. He didn’t react—expressionless, not even bothering to argue with her.
Qu Bixin hated that cold attitude of his the most. She bent down to pull off her other heel, ready to throw it too, when Shen Fu’s thin lips moved. His indifferent tone floated over, freezing her in place for several seconds.
“You even dared to steal Wen Shuchen’s son now? Got guts.”
“—What the hell?! That ugly clown is Wen Shuchen’s son?!”
Her attention immediately shifted. She stopped making noise and scrambled toward the front seat. “What do you mean? Isn’t he He Qingchi’s kid?”
Shen Fu shot her a look as if her IQ offended him. His voice held a trace of mockery: “Otherwise, how did you think you managed to ‘borrow’ the hotel young master’s face and walk out with the kid for a paternity test?”
Of course—he knew everything…
Back when she got out of the car earlier and saw herself surrounded by bodyguards, she had already been dumbfounded.
Seeing her confusion, Shen Fu actually explained more than usual: “They only let you take the kid because you were with He Qingchi.”
“……”
This wasn’t her first time experiencing how dog-like this man could be. She wanted to strangle him. “If you knew all along, why didn’t you call and warn me?! You wanted to watch me get skinned alive by the Wen family, didn’t you? You vicious ex-husband!”
Had she known this ugly clown belonged to the Wen family, she wouldn’t have stolen him even with ten thousand borrowed guts.
Shen Fu knew but kept quiet—infuriating!
Yet he spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world, completely guilt-free: “If I warned you, how was Wen Shuchen supposed to come reclaim his kid?”
At first, the sentence sounded absurd—then it didn’t. Qu Bixin quickly realized something. “You two men set me up?”
Earlier, when He Qingchi came saying she’d seen Shen Fu carrying a child, Qu Bixin assumed he had intentionally shown up in front of her to stir up trouble. Knowing her personality, he must have predicted she would investigate the child’s identity.
And that would force Wen Shuchen to “come forward” to collect the kid. A perfect excuse to show up in front of He Qingchi.
Qu Bixin mentally replayed the entire night and immediately switched to full sarcasm: “Heh. So Wen Shuchen was too scared to look for an excuse to face He Qingchi because she’d beat him up? And now he plays mind games, so it looks like we stole his kid. He gets all the justification handed to him, huh?”
Shen Fu ignored her tone and drove into a luxury villa.
It was a property he’d bought in recent years. Qu Bixin’s attention shifted again. She stared wide-eyed. “You got rich again? Ran from Jiangcheng all the way here just to buy a house?”
Shen Fu didn’t respond. He parked in the garage and shut off the engine.
Qu Bixin was still studying the villa, wondering how much dirty money this hateful man had made this time.
Then the car door opened. Shen Fu’s slender, well-defined fingers tapped twice on the car’s exterior. “Do you want me to carry you out, or are you getting out yourself?”
They hadn’t lived together for three or four years. As long as she didn’t bother him, Shen Fu was always busy working and rarely had time to pester her. A year ago, he was sent abroad for some time, and just when their relationship had improved a little, he had the nerve to bring Shen Tingji along, making Qu Bixin curse him on the spot to never come back.
This was their first private interaction since things fell apart.
Qu Bixin remained seated, hands pressing down on her skirt, face cold. “What’s the difference?”
Shen Fu looked at her leisurely. After two seconds, his voice was as calm and indifferent as always: “The difference is whether we start from the car all the way to the master bedroom, or you get out yourself, go upstairs, and lie down in the master bedroom now.”
“……”
The garage fell completely silent.
Qu Bixin had never seen anyone as shameless as him—saying such things as if they were perfectly reasonable.
For a moment, she even doubted her sanity: how did she ever fall for this man?
You really can’t rely on a face for life!
Shen Fu tapped the car again, clearly growing impatient. “Haven’t decided yet?”
Qu Bixin’s eyes flashed. She finally managed to hurl the other stiletto at him. “You’re just an ex-husband! Who gave you the right to touch me?!”
After calling him shameless, she slammed the car door shut.
She crawled from the back seat to the driver’s seat, trying to drive off—only to realize she couldn’t find the car keys.
Stunned, she looked out the window. Shen Fu stood there casually, his silhouette outlined by the garage lights, holding the keys between two long fingers—clearly provoking her.
In the end, Qu Bixin couldn’t hold back and cursed loudly: “Fuck—”
At 11:40 PM, in the airport’s departure hall.
He Qingchi heard the announcement that boarding had begun. Her pale fingertips tightened around the plane ticket. She felt dazed, unfocused, and ignored the bodyguard beside her as she followed the crowd toward the gate.
Her thoughts were completely thrown into chaos by Wen Shuchen’s sudden appearance. Her expression looked as if it had been soaked in cold water—numb and blank.
After boarding, He Qingchi was guided by the flight attendant to her seat in first class. Her lowered head and hair covered her cheeks. None of the surrounding noise touched her; teardrops fell silently from under her lashes like beads slipping off a broken string.
Soon, a small patch of her dress was damp. She cried without making a sound.
Her pale fingers covered her face as she hid in the corner of first class, where no one knew her.
For the three years since giving birth, He Qingchi hadn’t dared check any news about the Wen family of Jiangcheng—didn’t dare think about Wen Shuchen, didn’t dare hear his name…
Whenever she woke in the middle of the night from nightmares, she was even afraid the next news she received about Wen Shuchen would come in the form of a will.
And day after day passed like that. Someone told her it had already been three years.
To He Qingchi, she no longer knew how long she had been stuck in such repeated days. They were all the same—there was no difference to her at all.
What happened tonight came far too suddenly…
She had no way to process it. All she could do was release the suffocating emotions buried in her chest through silent tears. Her shoulders trembled as she cried, yet she desperately tried to hold herself together in public.
The tears fell again and again. Eventually, the sounds around the first-class cabin faded.
She didn’t know whether the plane had taken off or if everyone had simply settled into their seats.
Only after she managed to calm herself did she lift her reddened eyes.
Her vision was still blurry, but she noticed—there was no one else seated in first class.
Even on a late-night flight, it was impossible for her to be completely alone.
He Qingchi blinked. Then she saw a flight attendant escorting a familiar figure in a suit into the cabin. They exchanged a few words, and then even the flight attendant stepped out.
There was no doubt—Wen Shuchen had bought out the entire first class.
He boarded the plane too, still holding the little boy in his arms.
He Qingchi tensed up instantly. She sat frozen in her seat, her eyes still shimmering with leftover tears.
She watched him walk toward her step by step under the soft cabin lights, his expression warm and familiar yet tinged with strangeness. “The child wants to talk to you.”
Using the child as an excuse—he knew very well that He Qingchi wouldn’t, and couldn’t, refuse.
Her throat tightened several times. In the end, she silently allowed him to sit with their son beside her.
The little one was very obedient. If his father didn’t tell him to speak, he wouldn’t make noise.
After a moment, the flight attendant returned with a cup of warm water and a thin blanket—items Wen Shuchen had instructed her to deliver to He Qingchi.
“You just cried. Drink some water… otherwise you’ll feel worse.” His soft, low voice was gentle, and he tested the temperature of the cup with his fingertips.
He Qingchi blinked lightly. She knew her swollen eyes were obvious—and she couldn’t hide anything from him.
She quietly took a sip of water and glanced at the man beside her.
Wen Shuchen really had lost weight. It wasn’t obvious when he wore a suit jacket, but after unbuttoning it to hold the child more comfortably, leaving only his white shirt, the sharpness of his frame showed. He was no longer as strong as before.
That cup of tea had nearly cost him half his life.
“Little Sister Xiao Chi…can I have a sip?”
The little boy’s sweet, milky voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked down to see him blinking his big eyes at the cup in her hand.
When she didn’t know whose child he was, getting along with him felt natural.
Now there was instead a stiffness—a guilty awareness that she hadn’t fulfilled any of her responsibilities as a mother.
Seeing her red eyes and silence, the little one took it as permission.
He scooted closer and leaned toward her hand to drink.
He Qingchi’s hand stiffened, not daring to move.
Beside her, Wen Shuchen spoke quietly, reassuring her: “Don’t be nervous. Just treat him normally.”
Maybe because they were sitting so close, her cheek brushed against the faint scent that belonged to him. She instinctively wanted to pull away, her voice tense: “You raised him very well.”
Wen Shuchen received her praise with softened brows and eyes, his smile gentle.
She still didn’t dare look directly at him, biting her lip as she watched the obedient, adorable little boy.
She truly didn’t know how to interact with him anymore—even her body language was stiff.
Fortunately, the little one didn’t fuss. He reached out his small, pale hand and hooked her fingertip. “Little Sister Xiao Chi…”
He Qingchi smoothed away her urge to cry and tried to give him a small smile. “What’s your name?”
This was the second time she asked—his full name.
The little boy looked at his father, then turned back to her and answered clearly: “Wen Jianci. Daddy picked it for me.”
Wen Jianci—
The moment she heard those three characters, He Qingchi’s heart tightened sharply. Her eyes reddened again.
The little one didn’t understand why she was on the verge of tears. He lifted his head toward her. “Little Sister Xiao Chi, do you want a kiss-kiss?”
He Qingchi steadied her breathing. She couldn’t cry in front of the child. She wanted to hold him but didn’t dare lift her arms.
Wen Shuchen noticed the subtle hesitation. He patted their son’s head and said softly: “Go sit with Mommy.”
The little one treated his father’s words like imperial decree—or maybe it was the natural paternal authority in Wen Shuchen’s voice. Whatever the reason, he never disobeyed. He clambered gently into He Qingchi’s lap.
He Qingchi didn’t even know where to put her phone. Back at the hospital tonight, she had never imagined this child was hers. After the little one settled himself, Wen Shuchen unfolded the thin blanket and draped it over her with care.
Only half of the little boy’s head peeked out now, his cheek resting against her chest—small and adorable.
He Qingchi could only sit stiffly, letting father and son arrange everything.
It was already very late. Nestled in her arms, the little one began to yawn. Awake, he was energetic; when sleepy, he drifted off easily. His big eyes slowly closed, and within two or three minutes, he was softly snoring.
He didn’t seem surprised to see his mother. He never called her “Mommy” out loud—always “Little Sister Xiao Chi.”
He Qingchi had no idea how Wen Shuchen had taught him in private. The first-class cabin fell quiet, the atmosphere resembling the silence in the car earlier.
Then Wen Shuchen suddenly coughed lightly—not loud, but enough to make He Qingchi tense and look over.
Her slightly red eyes held rippling emotion as she met his gaze…
“Qingchi—”
He called her name with intimate familiarity, using a tone she hadn’t heard in years. And He Qingchi burst into tears again.
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