Marry by Relying on Favor: Chapter 144 - Little Sister, Aren’t You Disgusted Using Something That’s Already Been Passed Around So Many Times?
The high-end private club Qu Yanming brought her to was located in the most prosperous area of Jiang City’s downtown. The interior was decorated in a classical Chinese style. The wooden carvings in the foyer were exquisite and elegant, with jade inlays like a crescent moon embedded within. Refined ornaments were placed everywhere—it was clear the owner had put considerable thought into it.
It was also obvious that the people who frequented this club were figures from high society who cared about taste and class—completely different from her usual crowd of dubious friends.
At her side, Qu Yanming put on a profound air and muttered, “Tonight your brother will introduce you to some real big shots. Stop hanging around certain poor nobodies all day.”
Since Father Qu had plans to retire, in recent years, he had been introducing his son to many business associates, making Qu Yanming gradually realize he was truly beginning to take over the family enterprise. He now had the qualification to sit at the table with influential figures in elite circles and discuss business.
Reluctantly, Qu Bixin was led to a private room on the third floor.
When the door opened, the spacious interior was filled with the lingering fragrance of tea, and many people had gathered.
She was first surprised to see Wen Shuchen and He Qingchi there as a couple. On second thought, everyone in this private room was either wealthy or powerful—no wonder Qu Yanming’s tone carried a hint of pride.
He first guided her toward the sofa area, where a group of people were seated.
But Qu Bixin’s attention drifted behind an ornately carved redwood screen. A card table stood there, with occasional laughter and conversation drifting out.
He Qingchi’s fair hand rested lightly on Wen Shuchen’s suit shoulder. Dressed in a dark blue cheongsam, she sat gracefully at the redwood table, sometimes leaning against him. Her slender waist outlined natural curves, and under the soft lighting, she exuded a noble, tranquil beauty of affluence.
Smiling, she watched the cards in Wen Shuchen’s hand, occasionally leaning close to whisper in his ear.
He Qingchi rarely attended such occasions, usually only accompanying her husband.
Seated diagonally opposite her, someone let out a low chuckle. “I concede.”
The voice was calm and familiar.
Qu Bixin’s fingers curled slightly as she looked carefully at the scene behind the screen.
Shen Fu seemed like a companion player—winning once or twice, then losing it all in the next round.
On the other end sat a middle-aged executive who was winning the most. He kept wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, as if under immense psychological pressure.
Qu Yanming wasn’t surprised to see Shen Fu there. In fact, he had deliberately brought Qu Bixin. Pulling her along, he said, “Let’s go say hello.”
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t close to Wen Shuchen. The Qu and He families were old friends; he naturally knew He Qingchi.
After walking over, Qu Yanming greeted them with easy familiarity.
He Qingchi gave her signature smile, neither warm nor cold. “President Xiao Qu is here.”
“Qingchi, don’t flatter me. How would I dare call myself ‘president’ in front of your husband? Just call me Brother Yanming like before,” Qu Yanming joked. They were familiar enough to chat casually.
After a few teasing remarks, he greeted the others present.
When his gaze fell on Shen Fu, he feigned enthusiasm. “President Shen seems in high spirits tonight. Still have money? Want me to invest a little?”
The remark carried deliberate humiliation.
Qu Bixin turned to look. Shen Fu’s expression was natural as he tossed his cards onto the table.
He was steady, ignoring Qu Yanming’s sarcasm.
Another round began.
Many were watching. That night, both Wen Shuchen and Shen Fu had poor luck.
Also present was a well-preserved middle-aged woman with fair skin and a full figure. A cigarette rested between her fingers; occasionally, her red lips would hold it as wisps of smoke rose. She cast several flirtatious glances at Shen Fu across the table.
It was blatant, as if no one else existed.
Qu Bixin had long wanted to turn and leave, but Qu Yanming suddenly grew malicious and struck up a conversation with the executive opposite Wen Shuchen.
The executive’s surname was Gong, a senior manager at Wen Shuchen’s company. Around fifty, he had the typical portly look of middle age.
He seemed tense tonight; even winning money didn’t make him happy.
When Shen Fu casually mentioned a certain project, President Gong’s hand trembled, and he knocked over his teacup.
Tonight was clearly a setup by Wen Shuchen and Shen Fu. He Qingchi could tell. Smiling lightly, she said, “President Gong, why are you sweating so much? Are you unwell?”
President Gong forced a smile under the lights, looking faintly weak. “Yes… unwell.”
Wen Shuchen tossed out his cards and took a sip from the tea He Qingchi handed him. “President Gong has contributed greatly to the company all these years. It’s time to rest.”
The seemingly casual remark sent President Gong’s emotions on a roller coaster.
He had won money tonight, but it wasn’t easy money.
Understanding the deeper meaning in Wen Shuchen’s words, he wiped his forehead and, noticing Qu Yanming beside him, gave up his seat. “President Xiao Qu, why don’t you take over for a while?”
Exactly what Qu Yanming wanted.
He even had a chair brought over for Qu Bixin, pulling her to sit beside him.
Before shuffling, he grinned. “Since childhood, whenever my sister’s by my side, she’s like a goddess of luck. Guaranteed win!”
He glanced at the situation on the table.
Despite having his wife beside him, Wen Shuchen hadn’t been favored by luck and had been losing. Shen Fu neither gained nor lost. The flirtatious woman across—named Yao Liwei, a director at an asset management company—had lost some as well.
This ignited Qu Yanming’s competitive spirit. He was determined to teach Shen Fu a lesson in public.
Wen Shuchen calmly asked a waiter to brew fresh tea.
Yao Liwei said, “Pour me a glass of red wine.”
Qu Yanming also chose red wine. Compared to them, Shen Fu seemed grounded—he ordered a bottle of plain milk.
He had fallen so far as to drink milk?
Qu Yanming mocked, “President Shen, no need to be so frugal when you’re out having fun, right?”
Shen Fu looked over, his gaze settling more on Qu Bixin than on him. “Can’t help it. I’m down and out.”
That was exactly what Qu Yanming wanted to hear. Smug, he glanced at his sister.
Though Qu Bixin’s expression remained calm under both men’s gazes, her emotions were already in turmoil. She felt her brother was becoming more childish by the day. Bringing her here to meet important people was probably just an excuse—he really came to vent at Shen Fu.
She didn’t want to get involved and lowered her head to eat fruit.
“Too much cantaloupe will make your throat sore…”
Shen Fu’s voice carried across the table. As if nothing were amiss, he even asked a waiter to bring her a glass of cool water.
Her fingers paused briefly, but she forced herself to remain composed.
Qu Yanming, however, nearly burst with anger. Shen Fu had fallen to this state and was still slickly flirting with his sister.
“President Shen, keep your eyes on your cards. Don’t lose so badly you end up bankrupt tomorrow.”
He emphasized the word “bankrupt,” clearly mocking Shen Fu’s empty pockets—implying he might not even have a few coins left after one round.
Qu Bixin rolled her eyes, her red lips parting as if to say something, then swallowing the words.
If she praised Shen Fu’s card skills, it would sound like she was defending him.
Though it was true. Shen Fu had climbed from the bottom into wealthy circles; card games and drinking were part of socializing. Without real skill, his money would have been long gone among these rich heirs. Tonight, he neither won nor lost—clearly playing a supporting role.
As for why Wen Shuchen kept losing, she only needed a moment’s thought to know it was deliberate.
Qu Yanming was still feeling proud of his card skills when, in the first round, he lost to Wen Shuchen.
Qu Bixin’s lips curved slightly, suppressing a smile.
By chance, she turned her head and saw Shen Fu smile at her.
She quickly flattened her lips and looked away coolly.
Then she noticed Yao Liwei wasn’t focused on the game at all. Her flirtatious gaze kept hooking toward Shen Fu, calling him “President Shen” and praising him for being young and promising, with excellent card skills.
Women seasoned in the workplace are never foolish. Earlier, when playing with President Gong, she had noticed Shen Fu intentionally holding back while remaining outwardly calm. Now, playing against Qu Yanming, he was again letting others win.
Yao Liwei had developed a strong interest in Shen Fu and wasn’t even trying to hide it.
After several rounds, Wen Shuchen emerged as the biggest winner.
He Qingchi, tired of watching, rested her cheek against his suit and hooked a finger around his button. “Honey, let’s go home.”
Wen Shuchen immediately set down his cards. Seeing Qu Bixin’s increasingly stiff expression and untouched fruit, he gently offered his seat to her before leaving with the slightly fatigued He Qingchi.
Qu Bixin hadn’t intended to play, but watching others wasn’t interesting either.
So she didn’t refuse and took Wen Shuchen’s seat.
He had been generous enough to leave her the money he’d won from Qu Yanming.
Yao Liwei’s gaze lingered on Qu Bixin for a second, her smile alluring. “So the Qu siblings are teaming up? Then we agree—no cheating.”
Qu Bixin couldn’t stand a woman pushing forty speaking in such a coquettish tone. On the surface, she returned a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Miss Yao. My brother and I have no bond whatsoever.”
Several times, Qu Yanming deliberately intercepted Shen Fu’s cards. He was wealthy and unafraid of losing money—his goal was simply to disgust Shen Fu.
Yao Liwei, however, openly sided with Shen Fu, occasionally throwing him a meaningful glance.
For some reason, the sight irritated Qu Bixin. In a fit of anger, she wagered quite a bit of money.
Previously, Shen Fu had played it safe—neither winning nor losing. But after Qu Bixin joined the table, he lost seven out of ten rounds, all owing money to her.
The more Qu Yanming watched, the more something felt off. He finally reacted. “You think that if you owe my sister money, you don’t have to pay it back?”
All night, he had emphasized that Shen Fu was down and out—a bona fide pauper.
If it were anyone else, they would have long since lost face.
But Shen Fu seemed shameless, despite that refined, pleasing face of his.
He reshuffled the cards and said calmly, “When it’s over, I’ll write Miss Qu an IOU.”
He addressed Qu Bixin formally as “Miss Qu,” perfectly proper.
At that moment, Yao Liwei interjected, “President Shen, shall I lend you some?”
Without waiting to see if he would refuse, she continued, “I happen to have some business matters to discuss with you. Come to my place tonight?”
Out in the open, she invited him, her red-polished fingers holding out a room key card.
Before Shen Fu could respond, Qu Bixin threw down her cards and stood up. “Winning all the time is boring. I’m done.”
Without looking at anyone, she walked out.
Qu Yanming cast a meaningful glance at Shen Fu and Yao Liwei, finally fixing it on Shen Fu as if to say: Not bad—you hooked a rich woman in one night, all that flirting.
“President Yao, you’d better be careful with this Shen guy. He’s best at climbing up by relying on that pretty-boy face. Let’s get together another day.”
Before leaving, Qu Yanming deliberately tarnished Shen Fu’s image in front of Yao Liwei, then hurried after his sister.
Yao Liwei didn’t care whether Shen Fu swindled women for money. She was wealthy—if he were after money, all the better. That way, she wouldn’t have to waste effort luring him in.
Outside the private room—
Qu Bixin stepped out in her thin high heels. A gust of night wind hit her, leaving a slight chill.
A few minutes later, Qu Yanming caught up. “You’ve seen clearly what kind of guy he is tonight, right? Even without money, he can hook other rich women with that face. Just listen to your brother and marry a wealthy tycoon.”
Qu Bixin didn’t bother responding. She shouldn’t have come tonight.
More precisely, she shouldn’t have run into Shen Fu at all. Whoever that well-preserved, rich woman fancied was none of her business.
Seeing her low mood, Qu Yanming deliberately provoked her further. “Don’t tell me you still want to be with Shen Fu? He was making eyes at that President Yao tonight. They’ll probably get a room soon. Aren’t you disgusted by something that’s already been passed around so many times?”
“Qu Yanming, shut up!”
Qu Bixin bit her lip and glared at him, clearly fed up.
Seeing her anger, he feigned comfort. “Little sister, you’re the princess of the Qu family. You can have anything you want. Why torment yourself over love? Don’t be mad at your brother.”
Not a single word was sincere.
Just looking at him annoyed her. She told him to get lost.
The more she reacted, the more satisfied he felt—like a long-standing grudge had been avenged.
After all, she had once set him up over his sugar-baby scandal. Now that he had gotten revenge, he was in an unusually good mood and even instructed the driver to make sure she got home safely.
But Qu Bixin didn’t go home. She got out halfway.
She was indeed unsettled tonight, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
Her throat also felt uncomfortable—the result of too much cantaloupe.
She stopped by a pharmacy to buy some medicine, then carried the transparent bag and slowly walked home.
Under the streetlights, her shadow stretched along the pavement. After walking for a while, she sensed something off. Turning around, she noticed a tall, silent figure following her from a distance.
Across that space, she saw Shen Fu with one hand in his trouser pocket, keeping an unhurried distance behind her.
She froze for a moment but said nothing, turning back and continuing forward.
His footsteps were light—she couldn’t tell if he was still following.
But she thought: wasn’t he supposed to be getting a room with that rich woman? He’d even been handed a key card.
All those questions were answered when Shen Fu continued to appear behind her.
She walked all the way home, Shen Fu following. At the entrance to her residential complex, she paused. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him still there—keeping his distance, not deliberately approaching to talk.
It felt like a pitiful child trailing behind his mother.
Any woman might have had her maternal instincts stirred. But Qu Bixin’s heart was hard as stone. After saying something to the security guard, she went inside without looking back.
Unsurprisingly, Shen Fu was stopped by security and questioned.
He wasn’t a resident—how could he enter freely?
Qu Bixin returned alone to her villa. She turned on the lights, changed her shoes, and faced the empty space around her. She switched on every light and even turned on the TV to a comedy variety show. The host’s and guests’ laughter filled the living room, making it feel less lonely.
She went to the kitchen for water, trying to push Shen Fu out of her mind. Her mood improved noticeably.
Five or six minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Puzzled, she set down her cup and went to open the door.
Shen Fu stood outside. Somehow, he had dealt with security. Seeing her, he spoke in a low, almost gentle tone. “I came to repay you.”
She looked at him warily, pressing her lips together. “You still have money to repay?”
One hand still in his pocket, he didn’t hand her a single bill. Instead, he said, “May I come in to write you an IOU?”
“…”
She suspected ulterior motives and didn’t move aside.
Shen Fu looked at her and continued slowly, “I accompanied President Wen in cards tonight and didn’t eat a single bite. Milk isn’t filling. My stomach hurts a little now.”
“Come in.”
She couldn’t listen to him any longer. Back when they were engaged, Shen Fu had once told her about his past—how he’d been scammed by an elderly woman who fell and got scraped on the road. He had given her the only two thousand yuan he had for hospital fees. For a period afterward, he was penniless, working evenings in the school cafeteria for one meal and meager wages.
At the time, Qu Bixin had thought he was kind and had felt heartbroken over his hardship.
She had silently vowed never to let him go hungry again.
Even as she let him in, her expression remained cold. “No need for the IOU. There are fresh vegetables in the fridge. Eat and then leave.”
Shen Fu rolled up his sleeves without responding and headed straight to the kitchen.
Though he hadn’t visited her current villa many times, he moved as if he were the man of the house. In twenty minutes, he prepared a simple meal and even called out to Qu Bixin, who was watching TV on the sofa, to come eat.
Staring at the joking male host on screen, she refused stiffly, “I’m not hungry.”
“You were eating fruit at the club the whole time. How could you not be hungry?”
Shen Fu was observant—certain she hadn’t eaten enough.
He was right. Facing her smug brother at dinner earlier, she hadn’t been able to eat much.
After being urged repeatedly, she finally got up, her small face annoyed. “It’s not that I want to eat your food. You kept talking and disturbed me from watching TV.”
He handed her a pair of chopsticks. “My fault.”
Her temper, ready to explode, dissipated because he was too cooperative.
She sat down awkwardly, lowering her eyes. “I know you’re up to no good. Stop pretending.”
Having stumbled countless times over Shen Fu, Qu Bixin was already mentally prepared that he might be calculating something again.
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