Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 129 - Qingchi, I’m not Perfect, but I’m Worthy of Your Trust
Chapter 129: Qingchi, I’m not Perfect, but I’m Worthy of Your Trust
When she woke up, He Qingchi was resting on the man’s long arm. The master bedroom was dim and silent. Her curled lashes were half-lowered as she stared blankly for a moment before slowly sitting up. The cheongsam-style nightdress clung to her curves, the knotted buttons at the collar loosened. She lifted her slender fingers and fastened them back neatly, one by one.
Outside, the night was deep and still—nearly midnight.
She estimated she had slept for less than forty minutes.
Wen Shuchen had already fallen asleep, lying quietly on his back. His dark blue bathrobe hung loosely, faintly revealing his chest before the thin quilt covered it again. The sight of the handsome man asleep was undeniably pleasing to the eye.
But He Qingchi didn’t linger. She slipped quietly out of bed and went to the bathroom to rinse off.
The water temperature was just right. Standing against the tiled wall, she let the stream run down from her pale shoulders, yet it felt as though she still couldn’t wash away the lingering warmth he had left on her skin.
Her fingertips brushed over her collarbone, where a faint mark remained—a reminder of what had happened tonight.
After bringing up their wager, Wen Shuchen had thoughtfully considered her feelings. He had deliberately coaxed their child to sleep in the next room and softly told her to shower early. Such an obvious hint had left He Qingchi flustered instead.
If things had happened naturally, she wouldn’t have refused him—she was no longer angry, and there was no reason to reject him.
But he had practically set a time and place in advance. When night fell, and she finished her shower, sitting at the edge of the bed watching him walk slowly into the master bedroom, her fingers couldn’t help clutching the hem of her nightdress. A strange nervousness overtook her, her mind going blank—almost like the first night they had ever been together.
So she couldn’t quite relax, blushing and trying to avoid him more than once.
Wen Shuchen was patient. The soft light outlined the side of his face as he leaned down, his warm breath brushing faintly over her tightly closed lashes. They were so close they could clearly hear each other’s heartbeats.
Suddenly, He Qingchi wasn’t afraid anymore. She lifted her fair arms and wrapped them around his solid shoulders, taking the initiative to press a gentle kiss against his slightly pursed lips, sealing all her feelings into that kiss.
Afterward, she was too tired to lift even a finger. She pulled the fallen nightdress from the bedside and slipped it on carelessly before collapsing onto the pillow and drifting into sleep. Before she fell asleep, Wen Shuchen had been tidying the room, picking up the scattered clothes by the bed so that, if their child woke and insisted on coming back to sleep, nothing awkward would be seen.
During the time she slept, she had a brief dream.
Over the past four years, she had slowly pieced together the time she and Wen Shuchen had been kidnapped. Her feelings for him had long since changed, and the grievances she once held four years ago had gradually been smoothed away.
After finishing her shower, she changed into a clean robe and stepped out of the bathroom.
The bedroom lights were still on. She saw that the man who had supposedly been asleep was now sitting at the edge of the bed, black hair slightly messy. His handsome face turned toward her, and only when he saw her did a gentle smile appear.
“If I hadn’t seen the bathroom light on, I would’ve thought you ran away.”
His voice was slow and teasing as his long fingers adjusted his loose robe.
Seeing him, He Qingchi’s cheeks flushed again. Pretending to be calm, she walked over. “You didn’t even do anything to me. Why would I run?”
One brow arched as his gaze lingered on her. “I didn’t do anything to you?”
Hearing the suggestiveness in his tone, she walked straight into his arms as he pulled her close.
They embraced quietly. She raised her hands around his neck and gently pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
Wen Shuchen was in an especially good mood tonight. He carried her back under the quilt. Without the slightest hint of sleepiness, he continued teasing her—nuzzling her neck with his high-bridged nose, inhaling her scent, and trailing downward, though he did not remove her robe.
He was a man with restraint. He knew when to stop, afraid she might grow resistant if pushed too far. Once tonight was enough.
He Qingchi had never been particularly enthusiastic about such things in the past, and now she realized he had taken her feelings fully into account.
Her heart softened. She traced his handsome features with her fingertips and said softly, “Let’s go back to the He family.”
This was the second time she had brought it up. She wanted to take Wen Shuchen home and have the entire He family accept him.
Wen Shuchen instinctively pressed his thin lips to her pale fingertips, his voice deep and mellow. “Alright.”
Three days later.
On the day He Qingchi chose to return to Yancheng, the sun shone brilliantly.
That morning, she had already asked Yao Jing to inform the He family. Before they even arrived, the servants in the He villa were busy cleaning every corner spotless and preparing a lavish dinner—as if all that was missing were red lanterns and firecrackers.
The He family’s president had locked himself in the study, intending to call his daughter.
The call never went through. He Qingchi knew her father’s dramatic tendencies too well.
So she hadn’t informed him personally; she had sent Yao Jing to relay the message.
Father He clutched his phone and wailed over his desk, “My own daughter won’t even care whether her father lives or dies because of some wild man from outside!”
Yao Jing nearly rolled her eyes but spoke gently, “President He, Miss will be home this afternoon. How could she not care about you? And how could the son-in-law be some nameless outsider?”
Father He almost fainted from anger at those words.
No matter how Yao Jing tried to persuade him, he cried about his bad luck, cried about how pitiful he was, and finally cried about his daughter being deceived.
Yao Jing, having been by He Qingchi’s side for four years, was no longer accustomed to handling President He’s melodrama.
She shut the study door tightly so the rest of the household wouldn’t overhear.
But even if he cried the He household into collapse, he couldn’t cry his daughter back.
He cried for a full hour until his voice went hoarse.
In the end, Old Madam He came upstairs to persuade him, handing him a glass of water. “Qingchi has finally managed to be with Wen Shuchen. Back then you interfered because you were afraid she’d be hurt in the Wen family, and she left for Wushan Town for three years without coming home. Do you really want to lose your daughter entirely?”
“I can’t swallow this!” Father He sobbed.
He was promptly scolded by Old Madam He for being immature at his age.
“What can’t you swallow? Even if Qingchi understands you acted for her sake back then, what about your grandson? Can you bear to let him grow up with a father but no mother?”
This time Father He didn’t dare cry. “Back then, Wen Shuchen also agreed to let Qingchi return home. That responsibility is fifty-fifty.”
Old Madam He called him foolish and warned him not to pull such a long face when He Qingchi came home.
Father He was so angry that he didn’t dare to speak and locked himself in the study again.
Outside the door, Old Madam He was being helped downstairs by Yao Jing. She said, “I’ve let you see a joke.”
Yao Jing replied respectfully, “Please don’t say that, Madam. We all understand President He’s character.”
So there was no need to worry about losing face—no scandal could truly come out of the He family.
Old Madam He added, “At his age, he’s like an old child. He just wants to cry and make a fuss like a kid to get his daughter’s attention, using Wen Shuchen as an excuse.”
After all, over the past few years, He Qingchi had stayed in Wushan Town and rarely returned, growing distant from the He family. Whenever something came up, they could only contact her through Yao Jing. She lived as though untouched by the warmth of ordinary life.
Yao Jing smiled. “Yes. If Wen Shuchen hadn’t become the He family’s son-in-law, President He would probably have been the first to object.”
Old Madam He patted her hand, then turned and went back to her room.
By the afternoon, several private cars stopped outside the He villa. Bodyguards stepped out first. Then Wen Shuchen, in a tailored suit, exited the car and gently helped the woman in the back seat out.
The He family members held their breath at the sight of the family of three.
He Qingchi wasn’t dressed extravagantly—just a dark green cheongsam, her long black hair falling freely, their child in her arms. As she walked, her pale, slender calves showed beneath the hem.
Time had polished away her youthful innocence, leaving her even more elegant and noble.
Just when she seemed distant and cool, a trace of tenderness would appear.
After several years, Wen Shuchen had finally achieved his wish—to step into the He family home.
They sat in the living room with the entire He family present—except for the one still locked in his study.
After chatting for a while and seeing her son sweetly calling everyone “Auntie” and Wen Shuchen speaking comfortably with her grandmother, He Qingchi felt reassured.
She leaned close to Wen Shuchen and whispered, “I’ll go upstairs to see Dad.”
His warm hand covered hers. “Want me to come with you?”
She shook her head. Better to handle the old man first—
Otherwise, with Wen Shuchen present, her father might cry again.
Upstairs was quiet compared to the lively scene below.
She reached the study door, raised her pale hand to knock, then paused and simply pushed it open.
It opened easily.
Her father stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, peeking downstairs. Startled by the sound, he turned around.
When he saw it was her, joy mixed with a touch of embarrassment.
To spare his pride, He Qingchi gently closed the study door.
“Xiao Ci is downstairs asking why Grandpa isn’t there. Is Grandpa shy?”
She said calmly, breaking the awkward silence between father and daughter.
Father He’s face flushed slightly, and he stayed rooted in place like a child being punished.
He Qingchi walked over and sat on the sofa, slowly smoothing her skirt, then said in a measured tone, “So… you still don’t welcome us home…”
At this, Father He almost jumped in place. “Who told you that?”
He came closer, continuing to mumble, “Ah! I’ve been waiting every day for you to come home—how could I not welcome you?”
He Qingchi smiled wryly. “Then why don’t you want to see your grandson and son-in-law?”
Father He froze mid-sentence, his face still red.
He slumped onto the sofa in self-pity, as if sulking.
After a moment, He Qingchi leaned closer, resting against her father’s shoulder, and said softly, “In my heart, you are the most important. Wen Shuchen and the child can’t compare to you.”
Father He spun around suddenly, staring at her. “You’re not lying to your old man?”
Her expression was serious, but with a hint of a smile at the corners of her lips. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll go downstairs and divorce Wen Shuchen, send the child back to the Wen family, and then you can find me a talented young man instead.”
Her words were clearly meant to soothe him. Father He felt much relieved, but couldn’t deny the truth.
Over the past few years, He Qingchi had been cold and distant toward everyone. Getting her to say something soothing—or even to smile—had always been a painstaking effort.
And now, after only returning to Wen Shuchen’s side for a short time, she was actively smiling and coaxing people in such a playful way.
It was as if she had found new life, full of vitality.
Father He felt a pang of emotion and couldn’t help asking, “If your father and Wen Shuchen fell into a swimming pool together, who would you save?”
Without hesitation, He Qingchi said, “Dad!”
Father He was almost moved to tears, his old eyes glistening. “You’ve really grown up… truly grown up.”
“Xian Ci is almost four years old now,” He Qingchi thought, her mindset more mature. Being by Wen Shuchen’s side had influenced her—she now knew how to handle things gently, and most importantly, how to consider her father’s feelings.
Had she taken a different approach—being forceful and demanding her father accept Wen Shuchen as her husband—
Father He might have outwardly cried, but his body would have been honest.
Instead, her gentle approach made Father He feel content. He even found himself viewing Wen Shuchen more favorably. In a show of elder authority, he finally said, “Wen Shuchen as a son-in-law to the He family… I suppose he’s barely qualified.”
He Qingchi smiled softly, raising three fingers in a playful oath: “He will definitely honor and respect you in the future.”
Father He huffed proudly. “Lucky him!”
In truth, he was just waiting for his daughter and son-in-law to coax him, then he would yield.
He Qingchi, perceptive as ever, spoke a few good words for Wen Shuchen.
Father He felt a little giddy, his face flushed. “I didn’t expect Wen Shuchen to repay kindness for resentment. Is he always flattering me like this when he whispers in your ear?”
He Qingchi nodded.
She hadn’t lied. Wen Shuchen rarely spoke ill of anyone behind their back—least of all his own father-in-law.
Father He hesitated, wanting to speak. “Actually…”
“Hmm?” she prompted.
Previously, he had secretly tucked away a drawer full of cards that Wen Shuchen had sent, intending to cut off their contact. Later, when He Qingchi went to Wushan Town to recuperate, he feared taking them out might disturb her, so he left them hidden.
Now the drawer felt like a hot potato.
Seeing this as a good opportunity, Father He mustered the courage and guided He Qingchi to the desk, letting her open it herself. “I’m going downstairs to see your grandson. You take a look.”
He quickly left the room. He glanced back to see He Qingchi bow her head, slowly opening the drawer.
……
Downstairs.
The living room was lively, the little one keeping the atmosphere cheerful.
Old Madam He, feeling unwell, had gone to rest, and Father He, going downstairs, left Wen Shuchen with the delicate task of managing him.
Fortunately, Father He had come to his senses and didn’t make things difficult for his son-in-law.
The little one, protective of his dad, quietly warned Father He when no one was watching: “Grandpa, don’t bully my dad!”
Father He looked at his grandson’s soft, round face, his expression sincere, yet a little guilty.
Wen Shuchen waited downstairs for nearly an hour and a half, checking his watch four times.
He expected He Qingchi to come down by now.
He looked at his father-in-law, still holding the child, and politely asked him.
Father He felt slightly embarrassed, cleared his throat, and noncommittally said, “Maybe she’s in the study.”
After thinking for a moment, Wen Shuchen greeted everyone and went upstairs slowly.
He wasn’t worried anything would happen in the He household—he just hadn’t seen her for a long time and had no other reason to go up.
Wen Shuchen quickly found the study and knocked once.
No answer.
He gently called her name, then turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The study was quiet. The slender figure of He Qingchi in her cheongsam stood with her back to him at the desk.
Seeing her there, Wen Shuchen relaxed slightly and stepped closer. “Hiding in the study? Did your father scold you?”
As he approached, He Qingchi looked up, her eyes red, fingers tightly gripping the cards.
The drawer lay open on the desk, cards spread out and read one by one. At the moment she saw Wen Shuchen, her long lashes trembled, and tears fell straight down.
Wen Shuchen had never mentioned the cards, thinking she had already received them but hadn’t forgiven his past decisions.
Seeing her cry like this, he realized everything.
He reached out to pull her into his arms, and she willingly threw herself into him, sobbing, her voice choked: “I thought you were really cruel back then… not even giving me a single update.”
She hadn’t expected Wen Shuchen to record her life in this way—by hand, for her to read.
For four years, he had never stopped thinking of her—not just with words.
He Qingchi cried, clutching his shirt with her delicate fingers. “Wen Shuchen, I love you… I love you too!”
Her love for him had long surpassed her love for herself.
In the midst of her emotional confession, Wen Shuchen kissed her. Instinctively, without restraint, their tears mingling, they felt the intensity of each other’s emotions through every touch of lips and teeth.
She forgot to breathe, lost in a passionate kiss by the desk.
After several minutes, Wen Shuchen restrained himself, slowly pulling away, then brushing her tear-stained eyes with his lips. His voice low and deliberate: “Qingchi, I love you. From the start to the end, I love only you.”
He Qingchi, tear-streaked but more beautiful than ever, smiled at him.
His long fingers gently wiped her tears, and she, still unable to get enough, rose onto her tiptoes, kissing him while repeatedly saying, “I never want to be apart from you again.”
Wen Shuchen let her kiss him, understanding her intense, tearful emotion. He comforted her with his warm hands. Once she calmed, he spoke softly, “We’ll never be apart again.”
Hearing this, He Qingchi felt more at peace than ever.
Her mind was blank; all she could say was “I love you.” After a long pause, she bit her lip, eyes red, and said, “Wen Shuchen, no matter what happens, I want to give you lots and lots of children.”
A sudden depth of laughter appeared in Wen Shuchen’s eyes. He cupped her face and kissed her, saying softly, “Qingchi, I’m not perfect, but I’m worthy of your trust.”
He Qingchi closed her eyes, completely willing.
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