Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 117 - Stay Overnight
Chapter 117: Stay Overnight
He Qingchi had someone take Fei Ying to a guest room, then called Wen Shuchen’s secretary. She went back inside and saw the little one crawling out from under the blanket, his chubby little arms reaching toward her for a hug.
As soon as she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
The little guy threw himself into her arms. His small body pressed against her dependently, his childish voice soft and milky, speaking slowly: “Mommy.”
Hearing him call her that filled He Qingchi with a gentle softness. He rarely called her “Mommy” during normal times; only when he was scared—perhaps out of instinct—would he blurt it out.
Even so, her throat tightened with a sudden sting of emotion, and she tried her best to soothe him softly: “Don’t be afraid. Mommy will stay here with you.”
“That auntie… was she here to look for Daddy?”
The little guy was sensitive and whispered the question close to her ear.
He Qingchi looked at his fair, tender face and didn’t respond for a moment.
It wasn’t that she suspected Wen Shuchen would do something that led to Fei Ying’s pregnancy. Setting aside his character, just look at Wen Yue—after suffering so much because of an illegitimate child, how could Wen Shuchen make the same mistake his father did?
If the child in Fei Ying’s belly were his, he wouldn’t be hiding behind closed doors refusing to meet anyone.
He Qingchi didn’t answer him directly and instead asked gently, “Do you miss Daddy?”
“A little…” the little one replied tactfully, though his big eyes revealed the real answer.
How could he not?
He had been raised almost entirely by Wen Shuchen. He had rarely been apart from his father. If he hadn’t been sent to stay with his mother for a while, he wouldn’t have obediently stayed apart from his father for so long.
The little guy pressed his cheek against her neck and said softly and slowly, “I want Mommy and Daddy to raise me together.”
He Qingchi’s heart melted completely, and she held him tightly.
Two hours later, several private cars arrived outside the courtyard in Wushan Town.
It was fully dark by then. The neighbors had already turned off their lights and gone to bed; none of them knew which important figure had arrived in this tiny place.
A lantern by the door illuminated the man stepping out of the car. The bodyguards stood neatly trained around him. Only Song Chao held a black umbrella to shield the fine late-night drizzle as he accompanied Wen Shuchen into the courtyard.
He Qingchi walked out from inside and immediately saw the man she hadn’t seen for several days.
Because of the rain, Wen Shuchen handed the black coat draped over his shoulders to Song Chao. His presence was steady and restrained, his expression cool and quiet, his gaze falling on her face without shifting away in the slightest.
He Qingchi lowered her eyes first, gestured toward the guest room, and said, “She’s inside.”
Wen Shuchen clearly didn’t care much about Fei Ying. Stepping closer, he first placed a gentlemanly hand at her waist, speaking in a low voice, “Let me see the child.”
Thanks to someone else’s trouble, he could walk right in and go straight to her room the moment he arrived in Wushan Town.
The child had said earlier that he missed Daddy, and He Qingchi couldn’t refuse.
She glanced at Song Chao and the others, then led Wen Shuchen into the room.
This was probably his second time visiting. The decorations had increased since last time; traces of the three years she lived here were everywhere. On the classical carved wooden bed, covered in soft, thick blankets, the little one was curled up asleep.
“He just fell asleep… He said he missed you.” He Qingchi had only turned on a gentle night lamp so it wouldn’t hurt his eyes.
She had just turned around when Wen Shuchen pulled her into his arms. They stood together at the bedside as his thin lips brushed her ear and he said, “The child in Fei Ying’s womb isn’t mine.”
He Qingchi had already guessed as much. Her expression was calm and unsurprised.
She let him hold her, her forehead brushing against the fabric of his suit shoulder, her gaze drifting aside. “Wen Yue is trying to push the responsibility onto you. She’s pregnant and wants you to become a father again.”
A few emotions flickered in Wen Shuchen’s eyes—clearly disdain for Wen Yue’s behavior, playing with a woman only to dump the blame on someone else.
He Qingchi didn’t care about their fierce sibling rivalry. She said, “The child misses you. Since you’re here, you should take him back.”
Wen Shuchen looked at her calm face, as if trying to find even a hint of reluctance.
But He Qingchi spoke to him like discussing household matters, placing her hand against his chest to push him away a little. “I’ll go bring you a cup of tea.”
Wen Shuchen didn’t loosen his hold—his gaze instead grew deeper.
He had originally planned to deal with everything first before disturbing her. But now it seemed she wanted to draw a clean line, returning even the child to him. That made him instantly change his plans. His voice was even and flat, but his words were the opposite: “Do you want to pack a few sets of clothing?”
He Qingchi froze, confused, staring at him.
“It’s fine if you don’t. The villa has everything.” Wen Shuchen intended to take her with him as well. He then decided, “It’s late. Rest here tonight. After we pay respects to your grandmother tomorrow, we’ll leave.”
He had taken full control of the situation, just on his own.
He Qingchi opened her mouth several times, wanting to object, but nothing came out.
Whenever Wen Shuchen became even slightly assertive, he could completely overwhelm her.
After eleven that night—
The child slept deeply. While she was changing into her sleepwear, Wen Shuchen carried the little one next door and instructed Yao Jing to watch him for the night. When she returned to the room, she found the bedding had already been completely redone.
Wen Shuchen had taken off his suit jacket and placed it on the chaise lounge, then removed his tie and cufflinks. There were no spare clothes for him here; he could only sleep in his shirt for now. He walked over to the door and, unhurriedly, locked it.
What she saw made He Qingchi frown. The quiet room now held only the two of them facing each other.
“Can we rest now?” Wen Shuchen asked first, as if about to turn off the lights.
He Qingchi’s red lips moved—she was about to ask about the child.
But the man had already answered, and because of the dim light, even his voice sounded hazy: “I had him sleep in Yao Jing’s room.”
“……”
She slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on the man before her.
Wen Shuchen turned off the light. When the room fell into darkness, his footsteps approached.
He guided He Qingchi to lie on the inside, then lifted the blanket and lay down beside her.
Compared to the last time they shared a bed—when she had been dead tired and the child was there—this time there was no third person. In the dark, his breathing was low and shallow, yet every sound seemed painfully clear.
He Qingchi pressed her cheek into the soft pillow, briefly regretting not insisting on bringing the child back to sleep with her.
For spouses reunited after a long separation, being alone at night was the most dangerous—feelings that couldn’t be spoken during the day tended to ferment completely in the dark.
Wen Shuchen, tall with long limbs, needed only the slightest shift to touch her back. When he spoke, a warm breath brushed her skin. “When you saw Fei Ying, did you suspect me?”
He Qingchi kept her lashes closed, unwilling to say anything that would inflate his ego.
His palm rested on her shoulder, covering her exposed pale skin—hot against her.
Tonight, his body temperature was noticeably higher than usual, with none of the usual coldness.
He Qingchi vaguely realized the reason, yet lying on the inside, she had no room to dodge.
She turned over slightly, her fair fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. She unconsciously felt around, thinking he might not be comfortable sleeping in a dress shirt.
But in this moment, as Wen Shuchen held her soft body in his arms, his thoughts had long gone in another direction.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
That simple question from He Qingchi made him pause.
Their thoughts couldn’t have been more different. Lowering his head into the scent of her hair, his voice grew husky despite his attempt to keep it steady: “Qingchi… do you mean what I think you mean?”
Now it was He Qingchi’s turn to freeze. “You misunderstood. I meant—aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping in a shirt?”
Wen Shuchen was silent for a moment—apparently unembarrassed. “Then I’ll take it off.”
In the darkness, he began undoing his buttons one by one. Soon the shirt was tossed beside the pillow. Then came the sound of a belt and trousers being removed.
Even without seeing it, He Qingchi heard everything. She inevitably brushed against him, feeling how much thinner he had become. When he pulled her back into his arms, her fingertips accidentally swept across his chest—his once-defined eight-pack abs were gone.
These years had been hard for him too.
He Qingchi felt the urge to cry return, though she suppressed it, leaning her face instinctively into the crook of his neck.
Wen Shuchen traced her cheek and the corners of her eyes with long fingers, his voice low: “If you cry, I’ll regret taking off my clothes.”
He Qingchi forced her emotions down and said calmly, “I’m not crying. Go to sleep.”
She tried to turn around, to face away from him, but his arm tightened around her waist—there was no escaping.
Sharing one bed, even weakened, he could easily overpower her.
Wrapped in Wen Shuchen’s arms, her long dark hair tangled against them. Through her soft breaths, she heard him say in a deep voice: “Whatever Fei Ying or Wen Yue told you, don’t believe it. Qingchi… I haven’t touched a woman in four years. I’m not even sure if I still can.”
He Qingchi froze, eyes widening in the darkness as she stared at the blurred outline of his face.
For Wen Shuchen to say something like that without blinking—it was completely abandoning male pride.
He wasn’t sure if he was capable anymore, so he tested by holding her against him.
Yet after a while, He Qingchi still didn’t feel any reaction from him.
Wen Shuchen lowered his lips to her ear and began telling her about the past few years—traveling between foreign hospitals and Jiangcheng, his treatments, everything he wanted to confess now that they were alone in the dark.
He Qingchi listened, eyes glimmering with the trace of unshed tears.
He spoke of how he had kept a close watch over her during her years in Wushan Town—how he could recite every name of every client she had taken. The reason was simple: he wanted to know everything about her. Some of her clients had even been arranged by him.
Because He Qingchi was picky about whom she would make a cheongsam for, Wen Shuchen had invested a great deal of effort.
He laughed at himself softly. “Eventually I figured out your pattern. Money doesn’t matter. The story has to be good—that’s what earns points.”
He Qingchi believed every cheongsam had a story behind it. She always asked why clients wanted one. Anyone who tried to throw money at her without sincerity would never succeed.
She listened for a long time, her tear-stained face pressed tightly against his chest—wanting to hit him, yet aching with heartache for him.
“Qingchi… shall we try…? Hm?”
Wen Shuchen’s reasoning was straightforward—he was afraid that after four years of abstinence, and after all the damage his body had endured… he might not be able to.
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