He Thought She’d Never Leave—Until She Did - Chapter 16

“Enough, Ayu, stop drinking.”

“If you keep this up, you’ll drink yourself to death.”

Zhou Heng, Song Yu’s childhood friend, snatched the liquor bottle from his hand and slammed it hard onto the coffee table. Then he yanked Song Yu up by the collar, dragging him into the bathroom. Pointing at the man in the mirror—a disheveled wreck of his former self—he shouted, “Look at you! What the hell have you become?”

“You’re drunk out of your mind every single day! At this rate, the Song Corporation will collapse because of you!”

“She’s just a woman. She left—so what? Is this really worth destroying yourself over?”

Song Yu shoved Zhou Heng back, leaning against the wall for balance. His reflection in the mirror looked like a stranger—gaunt, hollow-eyed, lifeless. He forced out a bitter smile, one uglier than crying.

He murmured hoarsely, “You’re not me. You have no idea how much it hurts.”

He beat his chest hard. “Right here—it hurts so much I can’t breathe.”

“Get out. Get out!” Song Yu didn’t want to see anyone. He staggered out of the bathroom, bracing himself on the coffee table as he grabbed the bottle again and tilted it back for a long drink. “An He… where are you? Did you really stop loving me?”

“But you said you’d love me for a lifetime.”

“Was your love really that short-lived?”

“No. I won’t accept that.”

“An He, come back. Please—come back!”

His voice turned to a feral roar. He hurled the bottle to the floor, where it shattered into pieces, glass shards scattering across the room.

One shard slashed across his cheek, leaving a red line of blood.

But he didn’t seem to feel a thing. He stepped forward, barefoot, right onto the broken glass.

Zhou Heng rushed toward him. “Stop—there’s glass!”

He shouldn’t have said it. Because the moment he did, Song Yu deliberately brought down his other foot, as if punishing himself. A sharp, stabbing pain followed instantly.

Blood streaked across the floor. His palms, too, were cut open from clutching broken glass.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done this to himself. Ever since An He had left, these breakdowns had become routine—either he was drunk beyond recognition, or mutilating himself, or spending sleepless nights clinging to her nightgown, refusing to let go.

Sometimes, he wrote her letters.

By now, his desk drawer held more than a hundred of them.

Half a year had passed. For everyone else, those six months were ordinary. For him, they were a series of disasters—he’d been to the hospital more times in half a year than in the first twenty-plus years of his life combined.

More than once, even the doctors trembled when they saw him. “Mr. Song, please, stop doing this to yourself.”

Even they could tell he was deliberately torturing himself—how could those close to him not notice?

Zhou Heng couldn’t bear it. Part of him blamed An He for being too heartless, but another part knew this was Song Yu’s own doing. If he’d treated her better, things never would’ve come to this.

But there’s no medicine for regret. An He was gone, and Song Yu had to live with that.

“Song Yu, An He’s gone. She doesn’t want you anymore.” Zhou Heng slapped him hard across the face. “Can you pull yourself together, for once?”

Pull himself together…

Song Yu wanted to. But he couldn’t.

Every night in his dreams, he saw her crying beneath him, calling his name through her tears—Ayu, Ayu.

Each soft, broken syllable tore his soul apart.

He wished he could stay in those dreams forever, never wake up again.

“Zhou Heng, leave me alone!”

“If I leave you alone, I’ll be watching you die!”

“Die?” Song Yu let out a hollow laugh. “Maybe that’d be better.”

He really didn’t want to live anymore. Only after losing An He did he realize—there was nothing in this world left worth living for. Death seemed almost merciful.

Zhou Heng grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. “You say you love An He, but when she was still here, what did you ever do for her? Song Yu, who the hell are you trying to fool with this act?”

That was what hurt most—he hadn’t done a single thing for her while she was with him. Everything had been on his terms. He never asked, never cared, forcing her to bend and break to his will.

Even when she cried, even when she begged, his heart had never once softened.

Only after she was gone did he realize how cruel he’d been.

He deserved to die. Every member of the Song family did.

“You’re right. I was a bastard.” Song Yu grabbed Zhou Heng by the collar, tears falling freely. “But Zhou Heng, I regret it. I really regret it.”

“I love Hehe. I can’t live without her. Please—help me find her. I’m begging you.”

If anyone could bring An He back to him, Song Yu would give up everything he owned.

He didn’t care about wealth, power, or pride—he only wanted her.

Song Yu’s mother was disgusted by his state. The next morning, she came in person and slapped him across the face.

“You’ve let yourself become this pathetic over a woman? You call yourself a Song?”

“Song Yu, pull yourself together right now. Go to the company.”

“Otherwise—”

Her tone turned icy. “Otherwise, I’ll make sure An He disappears from this world for good.”

When it came to ruthlessness, Mrs. Song was no less vicious than her son.

To preserve her political marriage, she had once done far worse things. Outsiders thought she adored Zhou Rong, that she approved of her—but only she knew the truth. She despised that girl.

The only reason she’d kept Zhou Rong close was to ensure the Zhou family never rose again.

Her hatred ran deep—rooted in a twisted history with Zhou Rong’s father.

Before marrying into the Song family, she and Zhou’s father had been in love, even promised marriage. But he betrayed her—with another woman—and she caught them in the act.

For revenge, she married into the Song family, and later destroyed the Zhou family completely. Zhou Rong was left an orphan.

She’d vowed that the Zhou family would never rise again—and that included Zhou Rong’s happiness.

This was Mrs. Song’s darkest secret, one she planned to take to her grave. No one else knew.

She slapped Song Yu several more times and warned, “If you keep this up, I’ll find someone else to run the company.”

“The Song family may only have you, but the Su family has plenty of capable heirs.”

“I won’t hesitate to let one of them take over Song Corporation.”

Song Yu stared at her for a moment, then began to laugh—a cold, broken laugh. “So that’s what this is about. You knew I loved An He, so you forced her away, drove me to the brink, and now you want to use my downfall to hand the company to the Su family.”

“You really outdid yourself, Mother.”

He wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, one by one. “Fine. Send them over. Let’s see who dares.”

The confrontation ended with neither side backing down.

Before leaving, Mrs. Song threw down her final threat. “If you don’t show up at the company tomorrow, the Su family will. This is your last chance. Don’t make me regret giving it.”

Half a year—that was the deadline she’d set for both Song Yu and the Song family itself. A final repayment for the old master’s kindness; he was the one who’d arranged her marriage into the family, after all.

But Song Yu was right—she was the one who’d driven An He away. She’d wanted to destroy him.

If he didn’t lose control, how else could she seize the company?

“Song Yu, you’re far sharper than your father ever was,” she muttered before leaving. Love had never been part of her vocabulary—only power and calculation.

After she left, Song Yu propped himself against the wall, cheek still burning from her slap. He didn’t even glance at the mirror as he pulled out his phone.

“It’s done. Move to the next step.”

When he hung up, his reflection stared back at him—eyes bloodshot and cold.

“She’s right,” he murmured. “There isn’t a single decent person in this family.”

By that afternoon, the internet exploded with headlines: the Su Group was under investigation for massive tax evasion. Every member of the Su family was implicated.

In one move, Song Yu had destroyed them.

When Zhou Heng heard the news, he rushed to Song Corporation and found Song Yu sitting calmly at his desk. He let out a long sigh of relief. “Ayu, you finally look normal again. I thought you’d lost your mind for good.”

“I was never abnormal,” Song Yu said flatly.

Zhou Heng muttered under his breath, Normal, my ass.

“You’ve heard about the Su family, right?”

“I’ve heard.”

“What do you think?”

“They got what they deserved.”

“And your mother?”

“Hospitalized. Stroke.”

Officially, Mrs. Song’s illness was reported as a stroke. Whether real or staged, no one knew—because Song Yu forbade anyone from visiting her.

“Should I go see her?” Zhou Heng asked.

“You have too much free time?” Song Yu’s voice was cool. “She needs rest. Don’t disturb her.”

Zhou Heng hesitated, then asked the question on his mind. “Be honest—did she really get sick?”

Song Yu set down his pen and looked up. “If I say she’s sick, then she’s sick.”

Zhou Heng swallowed hard. He knew about the rift between mother and son. “Still, she’s your mother. Don’t take it too far.”

“When has she ever treated me like her son?” Song Yu’s gaze darkened. “Do you know why An He and I even met?”

Zhou Heng perked up. “Why? Don’t tell me she arranged it?”

When Song Yu didn’t deny it, Zhou Heng froze. “Wait—seriously? She set the two of you up?”

“She opposed our relationship, didn’t she? Why would she also push you together?”

“Because both are true,” Song Yu said quietly. “She arranged it—but not for me. For her own revenge.”

“She deliberately adopted An He, brought her into my world, molded her into the kind of woman I would fall for—and then made sure I did.”

“All of it was a setup. Her revenge wasn’t against me—it was against the Song family. Against my father’s weakness.”

Zhou Heng stared at him, stunned. “But she’s your mother! Who does that?”

“She only loves herself,” Song Yu said coldly. “No one else matters.”

Zhou Heng pieced it together. “So you’re saying she adopted An He to lure you in. Once you fell for her, she used the ‘siblings’ excuse to force her away, pushing you to the edge so she could replace you with the Su family.”

“And that whole scene where she stormed your apartment and hit you—it was just to make it look convincing?”

“She wanted you broken—completely destroyed?”

By the end, Zhou Heng was drenched in sweat. “You’re sure that’s the truth?”

“The truth is probably even uglier,” Song Yu said through clenched teeth.

Zhou Heng was speechless. Still, at least that slap from Mrs. Song had jolted Song Yu awake—he was no longer drowning in alcohol and grief.

“So… are you still going to look for An He?”

“Yes.” Song Yu rose, walked to the window, and slipped one hand into his pocket. He stared out at the city below. “I’ll find her. No matter what it takes.”

Even if it kills me.

“You really love her that much?” Zhou Heng asked, baffled. He’d always known women could be fickle—but apparently, men could be too.

“Are you sure this isn’t just obsession? Maybe you just can’t stand that she left you.”

At first, maybe that had been true. But not anymore.

Only after completely losing her did Song Yu realize—he truly loved her. Maybe not as deeply as she had loved him, but genuinely, completely.

“Zhou Heng,” he said quietly, “I’ll only say this once. I love An He. And the title of Mrs. Song will belong to no one but her.”

For An He, the past six months had been full—almost peaceful.

In the beginning, she’d fallen ill from the change in climate, the sickness nearly taking her life. After weeks in the hospital, she finally recovered.

Her long-lost period returned right on schedule.

It was as if her life had opened a new door, leading her into a world full of light.

Her studies flourished. She grew more confident. Six months later, she even founded her own small studio.

Her life followed a simple, steady rhythm—work, study, home. Some might call it dull, but to her, it was peace.

It had been a long time since she’d felt this kind of quiet happiness.

She hoped it would last.

One day, Tiantian called, her voice frantic. “Hehe, I just heard something—”

“What is it?” An He asked.

“Song Yu somehow got your address. He’s on his private jet right now, flying to Los Angeles to find you. You have to hide!”