Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 98 - To Harm Others and Oneself
Chapter 98: To Harm Others and Oneself
In the center of the living room downstairs, the ceramic cup on the coffee table lay shattered all over the floor. The bloodstains beside it came from Qiu Jin. Her face was covered in blood, and dressed in an elegant, well-tailored women’s coat, she lay in Wen Yue’s arms. She wanted to speak, but kept coughing up fresh blood.
He Qingchi suddenly froze on the staircase. She saw the veins on Wen Yue’s forehead bulge in a terrifying pattern, his expression taut. His fingers repeatedly wiped the blood from Qiu Jin’s face; while holding his mother tightly, his dark gray shirt became stained as well. His low, suppressed roar drowned out the surrounding noise as he ordered the bodyguards to hurry and call the family doctor.
A flash of fear—fear of death—crossed Qiu Jin’s expression. She seemed unwilling to accept the end so easily. Her stiff, trembling fingers clutched her son’s clothes with effort. A single syllable squeezed out of her throat, only to be drowned again by blood: “Mom doesn’t… doesn’t want—”
She desperately wanted to finish speaking, but the pain was so sharp it pierced her to the bone. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.
“You’re fine. You’ll be fine.”
Wen Yue’s heavy, fast breaths barely held back his emotions. His eyes turned blood-red. Compared to losing his father, the mother he had depended on all his life was a thousand, ten thousand times more important. If his mother died, what meaning did anything he fought for in the Wen family even have?
Qiu Jin slowly turned her face toward the front—
Wen Shuchen sat on the sofa with the support of the bodyguards. His black shirt was also stained with blood, though it wasn’t clear how much because of the fabric. A few drops had splattered onto his handsome, pale face—the blood she had spat up ten minutes ago.
Qiu Jin stared fixedly at him, unwillingness burning in her eyes.
When she saw that Wen Shuchen had also coughed up a mouthful of blood and was now surrounded by the family doctor, she laughed despite the stabbing pain in her chest. Her whole body felt cold; she knew she was nearly dead. With her final breath, she tightened her hold on Wen Yue’s hand, her face ghost-white, and said, “It was Mom who poisoned the tea… but he only drank half a mouthful… Yue’er, Mom doesn’t want to die. Mom picked up the wrong cup.”
Of the two poisoned cups of tea, the other one had been prepared for He Qingchi.
Qiu Jin had schemed all night. By morning, she had waited for a long time but still hadn’t seen He Qingchi come downstairs. The funeral was about to begin, and she couldn’t wait any longer… She could only kill Wen Shuchen first, so no one would compete with her son for the Wen family’s assets.
She had calculated everything—except the possibility that she would pick up and drink the cup meant for He Qingchi.
Compared to Wen Shuchen, who only drank half a sip and dropped the cup the moment he saw her spitting blood, Qiu Jin’s condition had already become irreversible.
Her vision began to blur into darkness. Too many resentments and hatreds remained unsaid, but fate gripped her throat. She could no longer hear Wen Yue’s devastated cries as he held her cooling body…
The scene stunned everyone in the Wen family. No one had imagined Qiu Jin would be bold enough to commit murder by poisoning during the funeral.
Qiu Jin was dead.
The rain outside had passed, and sunlight shone through the windows, but it could not dispel the gloom in the living room.
The experienced elders, faces grim, ordered the bodyguards to remove all media personnel, paying them enough hush money. The younger children were taken back to their rooms. The bodyguards sealed off the entire estate to prevent any leaks.
Within minutes, the once-noisy living room fell utterly silent.
He Qingchi’s mind lagged, turning blank for a moment as she stood stiff on the stairs. When she blinked and saw Wen Shuchen cough blood into a white handkerchief, then recalled Qiu Jin lying dead in Wen Yue’s arms, her heart twisted sharply in pain. Her mind emptied completely.
Startled, her steps faltered as she tried to rush downstairs, not noticing the stairs.
She lost her balance and tumbled down.
The crushing, breath-stealing pain made it impossible for her knees to support her.
Tears welled behind her disheveled hair. The noise of her fall drew everyone’s attention. When she lifted her head, dazed, she could barely remember what she was searching for—until she saw Wen Shuchen sitting on the sofa, his always-calm expression visibly altered.
Soon, her vision was blocked by the bodyguards rushing over…
Her heart tightened. They were only five or six steps apart, yet she couldn’t see Wen Shuchen anymore.
There were voices shouting, people gathering around her.
In her haze, He Qingchi saw her father, who had come for the funeral. It felt like grasping a lifeline. She parted her lips: “Dad, Wen Shuchen, he—”
Father He removed his suit jacket to cover her shoulders. His expression had never been more serious. Having just witnessed the Wen family’s chaos with his own eyes, he immediately instructed his secretary to take the injured He Qingchi away.
“Dad—what are you doing, Dad!”
He Qingchi endured the pain, unable to struggle, her tear-streaked face filled with shock.
Father He said nothing. Through the crowd, he glanced once at Wen Shuchen.
Wen Shuchen was surrounded by doctors and nurses. Fresh blood stained the collar of his shirt. His handsome face was pale, his gaze calm yet suppressing emotions as he watched He Qingchi being forcibly taken away.
Just a single glance apart—yet he never got the chance to speak to her.
“Dad!”
Once outside the Wen residence, He Qingchi was shoved into the car. The dozens of black-clad bodyguards standing outside didn’t dare stop Father He. Even Song Chao could only watch from afar. She slapped her palm against the window until her father got in with a cold expression and told the driver to return to Yancheng.
“Dad, let me out… Dad, let me go back to him—”
Father He held his distraught daughter tightly, refusing to stop the car. His voice suppressed his anger: “Qingchi, I’m taking you away—with Wen Shuchen’s agreement. The whole Wen family is insane. This morning, Qiu Jin was still acting friendly with Wen Shuchen in front of everyone, but behind the scenes, she was plotting murder for money. How can I possibly leave you in that place?”
Two cups of poisoned tea. Having weathered decades of storms, Father He wasn’t foolish enough to miss the fact that one of those cups had been meant for his precious daughter.
If Qiu Jin hadn’t died by her own hand—mixing up the cups—who knew who would’ve been poisoned today?
He Qingchi was stunned for a long moment after being yelled at by her father. She shook her head. “Dad, I can’t just ignore Wen Shuchen…”
“He’s not as bad as Qiu Jin. The family doctor arrived in time. Even if his condition worsens, he won’t die. Come home with me. We’ll talk about everything later.” No matter what He Qingchi said, Father He refused to stop the car. Hardening his heart despite her crying pleas, he ordered the driver to head to the hospital first, then prepare the private jet to return to the He family home.
When she fell down the stairs, He Qingchi’s knees had hit so hard they were already numb.
She cried in her father’s arms until she had no strength left, tears streaming continuously as she kept whispering Wen Shuchen’s name.
They arrived at the hospital.
As Father He expected, He Qingchi’s knee had fractured in the fall.
The doctor performed surgery immediately, with her father signing the consent forms. She remained in deep unconsciousness the entire time. When she woke from the surgery, she was no longer anywhere near Jiangcheng.
Her father and several bodyguards had forcibly brought her back to the He residence. The second floor was silent, and she was alone in the room.
Her phone had been taken away. Both knees were immobilized, leaving her unable to get out of bed.
When everything happened earlier, she hadn’t felt the pain as sharply—probably because she had only been crying. But now, any movement sent waves of sharp agony through her body. Her face repeatedly drained of color, and her breathing was so light it was nearly soundless.
At dusk, Father He came up carrying her dinner himself.
The room’s lights were off, and he could only faintly see He Qingchi lying quietly on the bed. Aside from her forced sobbing earlier on the way home, ever since waking from surgery, her emotions were so calm that it seemed abnormal.
She didn’t demand to return to the Wen family. When dinner was handed to her, she only lowered her head and ate.
Watching his daughter’s frail state, Father He’s heart softened. “The doctor said you’ll need to stay in bed for three months to recover. Qingchi… please, pity your father a little. Stay here and heal.”
He Qingchi swallowed a spoonful of rice with difficulty. After a long silence, she spoke. “If Wen Shuchen dies… as his wife, don’t I have the right to know?”
“He didn’t die.”
Father He said nothing more after that.
He Qingchi stared at him with dark eyes, then lowered her lashes. “Dad, I promise I’ll stay here and recover like you want. Can you give me back my phone?”
He knew who she wanted to contact. After a moment of hesitation, he handed it to her.
Everything that had happened that day had been too sudden. It was only now that He Qingchi slowly began to accept it.
Qiu Jin was dead—killed by her own poison.
Thinking of it, He Qingchi couldn’t help recalling that pool of blood.
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened her phone and found Wen Shuchen’s number.
She dialed, holding her breath, trying to keep herself composed.
One second. Two seconds… dozens of seconds passed with no answer.
Wen Shuchen rarely failed to pick up her calls, yet now—even after several attempts—he didn’t respond.
Father He watched, heart aching, wanting to comfort her. “My daughter…”
“Dad, I want to be alone.” She wasn’t angry at him for dragging her away from the Wen residence earlier. She understood his decision after witnessing Qiu Jin’s death firsthand.
She didn't blame him. She just didn’t want to hear any comforting words.
Father He had no choice but to leave her space. Out of concern, he didn’t take her phone again.
He Qingchi’s eyes glimmered with tears. Her stiff fingers continued dialing Wen Shuchen over and over.
Dozens of times… nearly a hundred.
—Wen Shuchen never answered.
Her bloodless lips tightened. Unable to reach him, she tried calling Song Chao.
There was no answer either.
Finally, she called Qu Bixin in Jiangcheng.
Everything that happened at the Wen family funeral had been completely sealed off from the outside world.
When He Qingchi asked, Qu Bixin hesitated in confusion. “The media reports said your father-in-law’s funeral went smoothly. But… I noticed nobody managed to photograph your husband or Wen Yue.”
“Bixin, help me ask Shen Fu…”
For the first time, He Qingchi spoke with pleading in her voice, asking Qu Bixin for this favor.
Only Shen Fu would have access to information inside the Wen household.
Hearing her weakened tone, Qu Bixin agreed, even asking with rare concern, “Are you okay?”
A faint ache pulsed in He Qingchi’s chest. She curled up on the bed that no longer held Wen Shuchen’s warmth. Her mind replayed the closeness of the previous night—yet today, everything beside her had already gone cold.
"Okay" or "not okay"—
None of it mattered. Nothing could change what had already happened.
Wen Shuchen had silently allowed her to be taken away. And now, whether he was alive or dead—she still didn’t know.
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