Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 113 - Even a Single Strand of Her Hair was Something He Longed For

February 04, 2026 Oyen 0 Comments

Happy Reading~

Chapter 113: Even a Single Strand of Her Hair was Something He Longed For

 

“All of this… You remember it?”

 

Wen Shuchen’s ink-dark eyes rested on He Qingchi. She sat at the edge of the bed, her black hair loosely pinned up, head slightly lowered. A few strands fell against the fair skin of her neck—soft, fragile, showing a rare vulnerability that easily stirred a man’s instinct to protect.

 

He Qingchi had no idea she appeared this way in his eyes. She was still immersed in the memories she had dreamt of—fragmented, blurry. Her lashes trembled as she forced herself to speak stiffly, “Some parts… not very clearly. I was too young then. I only remember you shielding me.”

 

She slowly raised her trembling lashes and met Wen Shuchen’s gaze.

 

In his eyes lay emotions far too deep to fully express in words—feelings woven through years they had never properly spoken about.

 

Their fate had been tied together over a decade ago. In the past three years she had repeatedly woken from nightmares, remembering how Wen Shuchen had risked his life to protect her when they were young. When the kidnappers failed to get ransom, they lost control entirely, not caring whether she or Wen Shuchen lived or died, even wanting to kill one of them to break the stalemate with the Wen family…

 

It was he who saved her—he who nearly lost the use of his arm for it.

 

She also remembered that it was her own hands that tied the red cord of that string of prayer beads around his injured wrist, begging him—desperate and helpless—to survive.

 

As more fragments returned, her feelings toward Wen Shuchen inevitably shifted.

 

She looked at the man standing before the window and felt almost disoriented, as if the past few years hadn’t happened at all—as if he had remained before her all this time, elegant and gentle, never once leaving.

 

Tears clung to her lashes, stubbornly refusing to fall.

 

Wen Shuchen stepped toward her. His long, cool fingers cupped her face. His brows pinched—he couldn’t bear to see her cry. He wiped away her tears over and over. “Don’t cry…”

 

With a quiet exhale, he lowered his head and kissed her.

 

Just for a second. It shattered all the polite distance and unfamiliarity they had forced between them. Immediately, He Qingchi pushed him away.

 

The grievances she had buried for three or four years surged up all at once. Her pale hands beat against his chest. Against the expensive suit, she wouldn’t hurt herself, so Wen Shuchen simply let her hit him.

 

“Have you ever thought about how I felt?!”

 

Her eyes hurt from crying, her blurred vision locked onto his handsome face. Even her voice trembled, thick with tears: “How could you… how could you sit there and watch them take me away?”

 

Every time she remembered it, her heart ached—her knees ached—

 

Her whole body remembered the pain.

 

She had woken countless nights wanting to find him. That habit took three years to break.

 

He Qingchi cried until she could barely stand. She had tried so hard not to lose control the moment she saw him that night, but once tears began, nothing could stop them.

 

She choked out her accusations, sobbing violently.

 

Wen Shuchen only held her tight, silent, letting her hit and scold him.

 

Releasing long-suppressed pain was the only way to truly heal it.

 

The bedroom door stayed tightly shut; not a sound escaped.

 

He Qingchi didn’t need to worry about the child hearing anything. She cried until her strength was completely gone, forehead resting against his chest, shoulders trembling, her entire body fragile to the point of collapse.

 

Wen Shuchen stroked her back gently, eyes dark with emotions just as deep and concealed.

 

Every inch of her skin, every strand of her hair—even her scent—were things he missed painfully.

 

When her sobs finally quieted, he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “It’s all my fault… Qingchi, please give me one more chance—give me a chance to take care of you.”

 

Her eyes were still red. She had not forgiven him—not fully. Not for sending her back to the He family all those years ago, cutting her out to keep her from being dragged into the Wen family’s internal war.

 

“Let me go.”

 

Her voice still carried a sob. She tried to pull away.

 

Wen Shuchen loosened his arms. She pushed him back; he took two steps away.

 

His suit was soaked where her tears had fallen. His white shirt was rumpled. His handsome face looked pale, and there was a quiet loneliness about him. He was at the age where he should have been confident, ambitious—yet even his health had nearly collapsed under the weight of the family business.

 

He Qingchi realized she couldn’t keep looking at him like this—each time she saw that expression, tears threatened again.

 

Her eyes hurt terribly from crying.

 

She lifted a hand to cover them. “Let me think it over…”

 

Concern flickered across Wen Shuchen’s eyes. He didn’t push her further—knowing her history with depression, knowing she still took medication.

 

After crying so hard her mind felt scrambled, He Qingchi returned to sit on the edge of the bed. Her pale fingers stayed over her eyes, blocking out all light. With her vision darkened, her hearing sharpened.

 

She heard Wen Shuchen sit beside her—silent, keeping her company.

 

Even without seeing him, she could feel his presence, his breath, that familiar aura.

 

After five or six minutes, she slowly lowered her hands. Her lashes fluttered; blurred vision gradually cleared. She lowered her head and first saw Wen Shuchen’s long fingers, lightly playing with the hem of her cheongsam—an absentminded gesture he must have repeated many times.

 

The anger in her chest softened—half washed away by his quiet guilt, his closeness, and the way he had stayed.

 

He Qingchi remained in the villa that night, but she did not sleep in the same room with him. After spending nearly an hour together in the master bedroom, they stepped out without letting the bodyguards or the child see anything unusual.

 

She washed her face, the redness around her eyes fading slightly, and quietly sat with the child at the dining table while they ate a late-night supper.

 

Seizing the moment, He Qingchi tried several times to return Wen Shuchen’s phone to him, but each time, he subtly pushed it back to her.

 

Without that phone, their chances to stay in touch would diminish.

 

The little one’s mouth was shiny with grease as he ate, completely oblivious to the problems between his parents. When he finished eating and drinking, he rubbed his round belly and said in a milky voice: “Little Sister Xiao Chi, tonight I want to sleep with Daddy.”

 

Wen Shuchen had raised him himself—since he was a baby, the child had always slept with him.

 

He Qingchi had seen this clearly the first night the little one stayed with her and cried to sleep, so she wasn’t too disappointed. She curved her lips gently, keeping her voice warm for the child: “Of course.”

 

The little one turned to look at Daddy—only to find Daddy wasn’t smiling.

 

Wen Shuchen rejected his son’s request with a calm tone: “You’ll sleep with Mommy tonight. Daddy has a video meeting.”

 

The child’s eyes clearly showed disappointment, though he didn’t dare disobey. His small voice turned soft: “Okay… Daddy, don’t work too hard.”

 

He Qingchi couldn’t stand seeing the child sad. She reached out and touched his soft cheek. “You sleep with me first. When Daddy finishes work, he’ll come and carry you back.”

 

At once, the child’s eyes lit up like little stars. Afraid she would change her mind, he jumped off the chair hurriedly: “Then—I’m gonna go take a bath now!”

 

He Qingchi laughed. But she quickly noticed the man’s gaze fixed deeply on her.

 

Her smile faded. Pretending not to notice, she stood up to head upstairs.

 

The entire time, she acted cold and distant toward Wen Shuchen—yet she couldn’t stop herself from observing him.

 

Wen Shuchen still sat in the dining room. The soft lighting outlined his features, giving him a quiet, almost unsettling stillness that didn’t seem to belong to him.

 

He Qingchi paused at the stairs for a second—then continued walking.

 

For the past few days, she had personally bathed the little one.

 

But now that they were at Wen Shuchen’s place, the child refused her help.

 

Sitting in the tub with only his wet little head showing, he said in his milky voice: “Little Sister Xiao Chi, don’t let Daddy know. I can wash myself.”

 

He was only a little over three, yet he already knew how to adjust the warm water and squeeze the soap to make bubbles.

 

He insisted on washing himself, so she had no choice but to stand outside the bathroom and listen carefully to the water sounds.

 

“Little Sister Xiao Chi… you can’t tell Daddy…”

 

He Qingchi: “…”

 

Her lowered lashes drifted toward the tall silhouette that had walked into the bedroom five minutes earlier.

 

He definitely heard all of that.

 

The little one finished washing, climbed out on his tiny hands and feet, and wrapped himself in a big white towel.

 

He had no idea that both Mommy and Daddy were standing right outside the bathroom watching.

 

Wen Shuchen didn’t reveal himself. He stood just behind He Qingchi—a mere inch away. If he spoke, his warm breath would fall on the back of her neck.

 

From the moment they entered this villa, he had been deliberately creating this quiet, unspoken intimacy, drawing closer little by little.

 

He Qingchi tried to avoid him and took a step forward.

 

Wen Shuchen followed just a small pace, leaning down slightly, his face close to her ear: “What time are you sleeping tonight?”

 

His voice dropped suddenly, low and husky.

 

Her lashes trembled. Her attention shifted entirely from the child to the man behind her, and her fingers curled slightly.

 

Wen Shuchen saw her press her lips together and not answer. His breath brushed faintly against her skin as he continued softly: “I’ll finish my video meetings before ten. I’ll come over then.”

 

It was intentionally vague—unclear whether he meant to sleep beside her, or just to pick up the child.

 

He Qingchi maintained her boundary. “Once he falls asleep, I’ll carry him to your room.”

 

That would save him the excuse to come bother her at night.

 

It was obvious Wen Shuchen didn’t agree with that arrangement.

 

Using the excuse that their child needed someone next to him while sleeping, he changed it: “I might be working late. Let him sleep with you tonight.”

 

He Qingchi gave a perfunctory smile and said nothing more.

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