He Thought She’d Never Leave—Until She Did - Chapter 23

Song Yu clutched An He’s hand tightly, terrified she would throw him out. His words stumbled over each other in panic. “Don’t—don’t be upset, okay? I don’t want you angry. I—I know it’s all my fault. I’ll change, I swear I’ll change.”

“Hehe, you said you’d always stand by my side. Have you forgotten?”

Yes, she had said that once. Back then, she’d loved Song Yu so deeply that he filled her whole world. No matter how cruel or unreasonable he was, she couldn’t bring herself to say a single harsh word.

When Zhou Rong needed blood transfusions, all it took was one word from Song Yu. Without a single complaint, she would obediently go to the hospital to donate.

Afterward, she always went home alone. But even then, she never blamed him—not once. She loved him, respected him, and understood how hard he worked. No matter how much pain she felt, she never showed it.

She once said she wanted to be the flower that understood his heart. (t/n: “解语花” literally means “the flower that understands words,” referring to a woman who is gentle, considerate, and understanding toward the man she loves.)

But reality had proved something bitterly true: no matter how well you treat the Song family, they can’t be moved.

Once fooled, An He would never allow herself to be fooled again.

“I don’t remember.” she said.

“That’s impossible—how could you not remember?” Song Yu’s hands trembled as he fished something out of his pocket: the watch she had once given him. “You gave me this for my birthday that year. You said we’d be together forever. You must remember this.”

He held the watch out toward her. An He took it—it was indeed the one she’d bought with her very first paycheck. She hadn’t even bought anything for herself; her first thought had been to get him a gift.

The irony stung. After giving it to him, he’d never worn it once. It had sat, forgotten, in a drawer.

She still remembered overhearing him once saying to Zhou Heng, “Why would I wear something so cheap? It’s embarrassing.”

That was how he treated her affection.

Like garbage to be thrown away.

“You’re saying I gave you this?” she asked.

“Yes, you did,” Song Yu said quickly. “Look at it carefully.”

“Oh,” An He’s lips curved faintly. “Now that you mention it, I think I did.” She paused, then added lightly, “Since it’s something I gave you, I guess I can take it back.”

And with a careless flick, she tossed the watch straight into the nearby trash can.

“Trash belongs in the trash.”

Song Yu lunged for it, knocking the can over. He dropped to his knees, desperately digging through the garbage. “It’s mine. My watch.”

When he finally found it, he shoved it into his pocket, then looked up at her from the floor—just as she had once looked up at him years ago, eyes filled with nothing but love.

He crawled forward on his knees, grasping her hand. “Hehe, I love you. Let’s start over, okay?”

It was the most ridiculous thing An He had ever heard. “Song Yu, are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” he said earnestly. “I mean it. Hehe, love me one more time. Please?”

An He bent down slightly, meeting his pleading gaze. Her voice was calm and clear. “No— I— can’t.”

An He threw Song Yu out and slammed the door shut. No matter how hard he pounded on it afterward, she didn’t open it again.

Security arrived. “Sir, please come with us to the security office.”

Song Yu struggled, refusing to leave, but in the end, they dragged him off.

Later that night, it began to rain.

An He was woken by her phone ringing—it was Sweetie calling.

“Holy crap, check the pictures I just sent you!”

Sweetie had sent three photos, all of the same person—Song Yu.

“He’s lost his damn mind,” Sweetie said. “He’s kneeling outside your apartment complex!”

An He opened the photos. The surroundings were unmistakably her neighborhood. She got out of bed, walked to the balcony, and looked down through the glass. Sure enough, there he was—kneeling under a streetlamp, his shirt drenched, his figure swaying in the rain.

“Do you know how long he’s been there?” Sweetie shrieked.

“How long?” An He asked flatly.

“Three hours already.” Sweetie clicked her tongue. “The guy’s insane.”

An He poured herself a glass of red wine at the bar and took a slow sip. “If he wants to kneel, let him. It’s not me making a fool of myself.”

“You don’t even feel sorry for him?” Sweetie asked incredulously.

“Why should I?” An He replied coolly. She had suffered far worse over the years, and not a single person in the Song family had pitied her then.

When she hadn’t wanted to donate blood to Zhou Rong, they had guilt-tripped her one after another, saying it was her moral duty.

Even Song Yu had said carelessly, “It’s just a bit of blood. It’s not a big deal.”

Thinking about it now only made her feel lighter.

“You’re really heartless.”

“He deserves it.”

“Hey, with the way he looks right now, he’s definitely going viral tomorrow. Have you thought about how to handle it?”

“Why should I care? I didn’t tell him to kneel.”

“Maybe not, but everyone knows he’s kneeling to beg your forgiveness. What if the Song family comes after you?”

“They can do whatever they want,” An He said indifferently. “I’m not afraid.”

Sweetie laughed in admiration. “That’s right—no fear.”

“By the way, thank you for watching Xixi,” An He added.

Sweetie, who had been living with Xixi these days, smiled. “Don’t be silly. Taking care of my goddaughter is my duty.”

“She hasn’t been a handful, has she?”

“No, she’s been an angel.” Sweetie hesitated, then added softly, “It’s just… she keeps asking about her dad. Are you really never going to find one for her?”

“Not for now.” An He no longer trusted any man.

“I think Tang Wei’s a good guy,” Sweetie suggested. “If you like him, give it a shot.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Who says friends can’t become lovers? I ship you two.”

“You’re overthinking it.”

Sweetie sighed in defeat. “Fine. But when happiness comes knocking, don’t push it away, okay?”

“Okay.”

The rain continued outside. Online, the posts about Song Yu kneeling multiplied by the minute—rumors flying everywhere.

Some said he was begging forgiveness from a woman he loved.
Some said he’d offended the wrong person.
Others claimed he was kneeling because a proposal had failed.
A few even accused him of staging the whole thing.

An He found that last one the most believable. After all, the Song family were masters of performance—Song Yu, his mother, even Zhou Rong.

Speaking of Zhou Rong, she wondered briefly why Song Yu hadn’t ended up with her. He’d loved her more, hadn’t he?

But that wasn’t her problem anymore.

After finishing her wine, she went back to bed and soon drifted into another dream.

In it, she couldn’t quite see the man’s face, but he was gentle. He woke up beside her every morning and cooked her breakfast.

He sat with her while she painted, calling her softly by her nickname—Keke.

Xixi was there too, and the three of them lived happily together.

…

An He woke up to her phone ringing again. It was Xixi’s voice, sweet and milky. “Mommy, are you still sleeping?”

An He rubbed her eyes and smiled. “No, Mommy’s awake.”

“Mommy, do you miss Xixi?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Then can you take Xixi out to play?”

“Where does Xixi want to go?”

“The mall!”

“Okay. Mommy will take you.”

Since Sweetie was busy, An He took Xixi herself. Driving out of the parking garage, she saw Song Yu still kneeling in the same spot.

People were stopping to take pictures, and he didn’t react at all. The old Song Yu had been obsessive about cleanliness—he’d hated photos. They didn’t even have a single picture together.

Time really could change people.

Just as she wasn’t the same woman anymore.

An He didn’t stop—she pressed down on the gas and drove off.

On the other side, Liu Chen watched Song Yu sway unsteadily and said anxiously, “President Song, Miss An already left. Let’s go too.”

“No,” Song Yu said hoarsely. “I’ll wait for Hehe to come back.”

“She just left. She won’t be back until tonight. We can come again then.”

Liu Chen sighed. His job as Song Yu’s assistant was nothing short of torture—whenever his boss lost control, he had to lose it with him.

He tried to drape a coat over Song Yu, but Song Yu shoved it away. “Don’t.”

“…” Liu Chen could only mutter inwardly, Great. Moody and stubborn, on top of it all.

“Your stomach’s still not healed. If you keep this up, you’ll have another hemorrhage,” Liu Chen said. “Why don’t we get some food first and come back later?”

“I’m not eating.”

After half an hour of persuasion, Liu Chen finally called Zhou Heng for help.

Zhou Heng’s voice exploded through the phone. “Ayü, brother, Mr. President—can you stop this madness already?”

Song Yu glared at him. “Get lost.”

“Fine, I’ll go—but you’re coming with me.”

“I’m not. I’m waiting for Hehe.”

“She’s not even here! What are you waiting for?”

“I’ll wait anyway.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you—it’s going to rain again soon. You really want to die out here?”

“If I die waiting, so be it,” Song Yu said flatly. “If dying makes Hehe forgive me, then I hope I die right here.”

Zhou Heng was speechless—and ready to punch him.

When even Zhou Heng failed to convince him, Liu Chen had no choice but to call the rest of the Song family. They came and scolded Song Yu furiously, but he still refused to move. He stayed there until he fainted.

Meanwhile, online speculation only intensified.

Some said he’d gone mad from unrequited love.
Some said he was mentally ill.
Someone even dug up photos of him visiting a psychiatrist.

The internet exploded.

【So he really was crazy all along.】
【He looks so polished in public, but turns out he’s a lunatic.】
【A CEO playing pity games? That’s so outdated.】
【Poor woman he’s obsessed with—she must have nightmares every night.】

The backlash hit the company stock hard. The Song Group’s shares began to plunge the moment the market opened.

The shareholders were furious, demanding an explanation.

The once workaholic CEO had turned into a love-stricken fool. He was even thinking of stepping down—planning to spend his days with An He instead.

Even his mother heard about it and called, but Song Yu didn’t pick up.

As Zhou Heng had predicted, it soon started raining again.

Song Yu’s clothes, which had finally dried, were soaked through once more. His face was flushed, his forehead burning. When Liu Chen accidentally brushed against his skin, the heat scalded his fingers.

“President Song, you’ve got a fever. We need to get you to a hospital.”

“I’m waiting for Hehe. I’m not going.”

Nothing could sway him.

When An He returned after dropping Xixi off, Zhou Heng blocked her path. “He’s still kneeling there. You’re really not going to do anything?”

An He arched a brow. “It’s not me who made him kneel. Why should I care?”

“Maybe not, but he’s kneeling for you. If you don’t stop him, he might really die.”

Die?

She’d already died once herself.

Back then, she’d almost lost her life during that abortion.

“Fine,” An He said coolly. “Take me to him.”

Zhou Heng thought he finally had a chance and quickly tried to plead for Song Yu. “Hehe, he really loves you—I swear.”

“You’re not him,” she said flatly. “What right do you have to swear for him?”

When she entered the elevator, Zhou Heng followed in uneasy silence.

By the time they arrived, Song Yu’s hair and clothes were completely drenched. He swayed when he saw her, pain etched across his face, his knees raw from the concrete.

Still, he forced a smile. “Hehe… you finally came.”

An He stood over him, looking down from above. “Song Yu, if you’re so desperate to die, then do it somewhere else.”

“Don’t dirty my sight.”