Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 122 - I’m Not Angry
Qu Bixin went straight to a temple famous for its thriving incense offerings. There were actually fewer tourists here; those who came were mostly sincere worshippers seeking the Bodhisattva’s protection, and it was said to be very efficacious. The temple was extremely quiet, and even the steps and entrance had been swept spotlessly clean, as if untouched by dust.
When they arrived, several black cars were parked outside the courtyard wall. Qu Bixin didn’t pay them any attention and impatiently ran off to draw a love-fate fortune slip. He Qingchi had nothing she particularly wanted to ask for, so she stayed outside, donated some incense money, and then wandered around the grounds. She overheard a monk passing by while fingering his prayer beads mention a thousand-year-old ancient tree behind the temple, so she took a detour to have a look.
The ancient tree was enormous, lush with branches and leaves, without a single withered limb. Red cloth ribbons hung all over it—left by visitors praying for wealth and blessings. When a breeze passed through, the ribbons fluttered gently. He Qingchi stood beneath it, quietly gazing up for quite a while.
Her heart was calm in the temple. She had no great wish for the Bodhisattva to fulfill; if there was one, it was simply that Wen Shuchen might be healthy and safe. So when a monk came to ask whether she wanted to hang a ribbon as well, He Qingchi asked for just one red strip of cloth.
She picked up a pen and wrote a single line on the ribbon along with Wen Shuchen’s name. With the monk’s help, she personally tied it onto a branch.
She did not pray for how her fate with Wen Shuchen would turn out—only that this man might remain healthy in the years to come.
Eyes closed, palms together, He Qingchi stood beneath the ancient tree for a long time.
Later, seeing that it was getting late, she didn’t take another detour. Guided by a monk, she followed the temple path back to find Qu Bixin. As they passed the door of a secluded inner hall, she first heard the sound of a wooden fish being struck.
Her gaze was drawn there. At the moment she paused, she caught sight of a tall black figure with a vaguely familiar side profile stepping into the hall. She instinctively kept silent, but the other person seemed to sense something.
From not far away, his dark eyes were already fixed on her—direct and penetrating, as if seeing straight into her heart.
He Qingchi hadn’t expected to run into Wen Yue at the temple. She pressed her lips together and stood still.
Another monk soon appeared between them and said a few words to Wen Yue.
The exchange lasted only a few seconds.
Wen Yue withdrew his gaze from He Qingchi and quickly disappeared through the hall doorway.
“That benefactor came to the temple to perform rites for a deceased relative,” the young monk beside her explained, thinking she was curious.
He Qingchi’s drifting thoughts were pulled back. She tugged lightly at the corner of her lips. “Is that so.”
“He comes every year to perform rites for that relative. My master said once would be enough, but he keeps coming—and he donates a lot of incense money,” the monk muttered as he led her past the secluded hall.
As they passed, He Qingchi glanced inside from the corner of her eye. The door hadn’t been closed yet, and the light inside was dim. Wen Yue was kneeling in the center, before a memorial tablet with incense, candles, and offerings laid out, smoke curling upward. Several senior monks stood nearby chanting sutras, tapping the wooden fish softly and steadily.
After just one glance, the hall doors were closed.
When He Qingchi returned to the main hall, Qu Bixin had already finished drawing her love-fate fortune. Judging from her expression, it clearly wasn’t a good result. Seeing He Qingchi appear, she clicked her thin high heels over and muttered, “This place isn’t efficacious. Let’s change to another one.”
The two walked out of the temple gates, down the steps, and along the road toward where their car was parked.
The driver and bodyguards were there. After getting into the car, He Qingchi gave instructions for the return trip. Before Qu Bixin could speak, she said first, “I saw Wen Yue in the temple.”
Qu Bixin, clutching the worst possible fortune slip, looked surprised.
A few seconds later, her eyes swept over He Qingchi. “Did he harass you?”
He Qingchi shook her head and said with some complexity, “He didn’t have the time. He was inviting senior monks to perform rites for his mother.”
“Looks like Wen Yue is pretty pitiful too…” Qu Bixin actually sighed with sympathy.
That earned her He Qingchi’s flat, expressionless response: “Can you have some sense of allegiance?”
“Didn’t I say today that Wen Yue looks pleasing to the eye?”
“…”
As they talked, He Qingchi kept an eye on whether any car was following them. She didn’t know Wen Yue well and couldn’t understand what supported his feelings toward her. Calling it love might be less accurate than calling it a kind of obsession.
Just as He Qingchi was lost in thought, she heard Qu Bixin mutter a shocked “Holy shit.”
Her arm was tugged, snapping her back to attention.
The temple road wasn’t wide. A black luxury car came barreling up from behind, clearly intending to overtake them. No matter how good the driver’s skills were, with two passengers in the back he didn’t dare race it.
They were soon overtaken. The window of the luxury car slowly rolled down.
He Qingchi clearly saw Wen Yue’s cold side profile appear, his gaze dark and unreadable as it fixed on her direction.
She remained calm, but Qu Bixin was nearly scared out of her wits by that look.
There was an indescribable feeling, like a heaviness pressing against the chest.
Their car was blocked in the middle of the road, and the engine was shut off.
There were bodyguards in their car, and Wen Yue hadn’t brought anyone with him. That allowed He Qingchi to remain composed the entire time, sitting quietly in the back seat.
They remained in this standoff until Wen Yue pushed open his car door and stepped out.
Qu Bixin gripped He Qingchi’s hand nervously. “He’s coming, he’s coming… damn it, what does he want with you?”
He Qingchi watched as Wen Yue’s tall figure came close. Separated by the car window, he pulled a cigarette case from his trouser pocket, lit one, and moved with extreme nonchalance. White smoke rose, blurring his expression.
Four years apart had erased the trademark smile that once lingered on Wen Yue’s lips. The lines of his face had grown sharp and cold, strands of white hair visible among his black hair. The aura he gave off now pressed down on people head-on.
When she had seen Wen Yue in the temple earlier, what crossed He Qingchi’s mind was how completely different he had become from Wen Shuchen. Even though their features were somewhat similar, the feeling he gave off had changed entirely—perhaps due to upheavals in life, perhaps because he was no longer deliberately molded to imitate Wen Shuchen.
That was why, when Fei Ying confused the two men, He Qingchi had briefly suspected that Fei Ying knew perfectly well who had taken her innocence—but Wen Yue was too difficult to deal with, so she settled for the next best thing, clinging to Wen Shuchen instead and forcing the Wen family to take responsibility.
He Qingchi frowned. Wen Yue smoked two cigarettes in a row without saying a word.
The stalemate continued, and the bodyguards began to seek He Qingchi’s instructions.
She didn’t roll down the window. From outside, Wen Yue likely couldn’t see her clearly anyway—just a vague silhouette. Just as she was about to instruct the bodyguards to get out of the car, Wen Yue tossed his cigarette butt to the ground, crushed it under his leather shoe, and turned back to his car.
He had sped over to block them.
Got out, smoked two cigarettes, said nothing—and left.
This left even Qu Bixin stunned. She blinked and asked He Qingchi, “Is he crazy?”
He Qingchi also couldn’t quite understand Wen Yue’s attitude. The fingers that had lightly dug into her palm slowly relaxed, and on the surface, she remained calm, shaking her head as before.
This small incident was tacitly left unmentioned by both of them once they returned to the villa.
After drawing the worst possible fortune slip at the temple, Qu Bixin seemed badly shaken. She stayed for dinner and then left early. He Qingchi had things on her mind as well, so she didn’t try to keep her.
After ten o’clock that night, the master bedroom grew quiet.
The little one had already fallen asleep. After washing up, He Qingchi put on a silk robe, walked to the bed, found a spot, and lay down. Her eyes were half-closed, one pale hand gently resting on the child’s back.
Time flowed by slowly. There wasn’t a sound upstairs or downstairs until Wen Shuchen came home late at night. Recently, he had been working very late; once or twice, he had woken people who were already asleep, so he had developed the habit of taking off his shoes in the living room, carrying his slippers in his long fingers, and walking upstairs barefoot.
After pushing open the bedroom door, he carefully took off his suit jacket and set it down beside the sofa.
The expression on his face was hidden in the darkness and didn’t look particularly good. His gaze fell on the woman lying on her side, sleeping quietly. He changed clothes silently in the dark, then walked to the edge of the bed.
Lately, after returning home at night, he often wasn’t sleepy. He would sit quietly by the bed for a long time, gazing at He Qingchi’s sleeping face. She liked to press her cheek against the pillow when she slept; her eyelashes were long, casting a beautiful shadow.
Her habits hadn’t changed much from back then—only her chin had grown sharper, and she had lost a lot of weight.
In Wen Shuchen’s eyes, no matter how still and quiet she became in sleep, she was still the woman he loved most, just as in his memories.
Earlier that day, he had received a call from the bodyguards telling him that He Qingchi had been stopped by Wen Yue at the temple. His mood had soured, and he had come home half an hour later than usual, staying alone in his office, facing the night skyline of towering buildings, feeling even more hollow inside.
Only when he returned to her side and saw her lying quietly on his bed did things feel real again.
She often said that everything felt unreal to her—but wasn’t he the same?
Wen Shuchen focused all his attention on her for a while without making any improper move. He Qingchi, however, stirred vaguely from her dream, opened her eyes, and, upon seeing his silhouette, reached out her pale hand to grope for his sleeve.
“Wen Shuchen… you’re home…”
She was still half-asleep, as if caught in a dream. Her voice was indistinct. “I waited for you for so long.”
Wen Shuchen bent down and gently pressed his thin lips to her eyelid.
She caught the familiar scent that belonged uniquely to him and liked it very much. Driven by instinctive dependence, she slowly leaned closer against his arm and, on her own initiative, lifted her face and gave him a deep, affectionate kiss.
Wen Shuchen remained restrained. He responded for a few seconds, then pulled his lips back slightly. “I’ll go take a shower.”
He Qingchi drowsily pressed her face back against the pillow and fell asleep again, completely treating him as part of a dream.
Yet the kiss had eased the heavy gloom that had been pressing on Wen Shuchen’s chest. He sat by the bed; in the dim light, unnoticed by anyone, a faint smile finally appeared at the corner of his lips.
By the time He Qingchi realized Wen Shuchen had come home, it was already the next day.
She woke naturally. As soon as she opened her eyes, she saw the familiar fabric of his robe. There was a slight weight at her waist—his arm was wrapped around her.
The child was nowhere to be seen, likely taken downstairs early by the nanny.
He Qingchi barely moved in his arms before Wen Shuchen woke up. He opened his eyes; the morning sunlight fell across his handsome face, softening his features, and he smiled warmly.
“Awake?”
His arm remained around her as they continued lying on the spacious bed.
He Qingchi had already forgotten what had happened between them the night before. She nodded, still a little sleepy.
Wen Shuchen had clearly been awake for some time. He gently pressed his lips to her forehead, warm breath brushing her skin, as if intending to move further down.
But He Qingchi quickly dodged, pulling the blanket up around herself, and said, “My dad knows I’ve left Wushan Town.”
Her grandmother’s side was still being kept in the dark, and Yao Jing hadn’t said anything either.
But once someone from the He family came to check, everything would be exposed.
He Qingchi lifted her eyes to look at Wen Shuchen and continued, “He doesn’t want us to have a second child so soon.”
What her father had actually said was that he could accept Wen Shuchen coming to see her, but he didn’t want them living together so quickly.
It was just that Wen Shuchen, freshly awake in the morning, clearly had certain thoughts, and He Qingchi used this as a convenient shield.
Her first pregnancy and childbirth had already taken a heavy toll on her.
Without being fully prepared, she really didn’t want to go through it a second time.
The emotion between Wen Shuchen’s brows slowly faded. He also calmed down after hearing her words. He loosened his arm from her waist, got out of bed first, and put on a clean shirt and trousers. After a moment, he even found a cotton dress for her to wear.
He Qingchi sat up as well, watching his expression, and felt a twinge of regret for having refused him.
“You’re not angry, are you?”
Since their reunion—apart from that night in Wushan Town when something almost happened—he hadn’t shown any urgency afterward.
This was the second time.
And she had turned him down again, albeit gently.
“I’m not angry.” Wen Shuchen’s expression was warm. He lifted a hand to rub her dark hair, his movements unusually considerate. In a low, gentle voice, he added, “It’s my fault. I should give you more time.”
It hadn’t been easy for her to start responding to him again, and she hadn’t continued digging up old grievances from four years ago.
Why should he rush things just to satisfy physical desire and make her uncomfortable?
So from beginning to end, Wen Shuchen remained calm and composed, a smile on his lips, repeatedly emphasizing that he would give her time to accept him again.
That, instead, made He Qingchi feel somewhat guilty. She wanted to say something several times, but swallowed the words back.
As a result, during breakfast, there wasn’t much they could really talk about.
In the end, she took the initiative to bring up Fei Ying and asked about that woman’s situation.
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