He Thought She’d Never Leave—Until She Did - Chapter 8

An He had been in a low mood lately, deliberately or not, avoiding Song Yu whenever she could. But there were always moments when avoidance simply wasn’t possible.

Liu Chen stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Secretary An, pack up. You’re accompanying President Song on a business trip.”

“A business trip? Me?” An He pointed to herself in disbelief.

“Yes.” Liu Chen glanced at his watch. “There’s not much time. Don’t bother packing your daily necessities or clothes—President Song said you can buy new ones in City B.”

An He didn’t want to be alone with Song Yu. “I’m not feeling well. Can I skip this trip?”

“President Song specifically requested you.” Liu Chen knew how softhearted she was, so he deliberately lowered his tone. “Secretary An, you know how President Song’s temper is. Don’t make things hard for me, alright?”

An He said nothing.

“Miss An, please.”

That tone always worked on her. After a brief pause, she nodded. “Alright. What time are we leaving?”

“In half an hour.”

“I’ll go hand over some work first.”

An He returned to her desk, finished delegating her tasks, and seeing there was still time, went to the break room to make two calls.

The first was to Song Yu’s mother.

Upon hearing about the trip, Song Mother sighed. “I’ve told you before, the Song family can provide for you—you don’t need to work. You never listen. With how busy you are, can your body really handle it? And next time you go to donate blood—”

“Mom, I’m fine.” An He gently interrupted her. “If there’s a need to go to the hospital again, just call me directly.”

Realizing something, Song Mother’s tone softened. “I’m not blaming you, dear. I’m just worried. You’ve gotten so thin lately. You’re not feeling unwell, are you? Should you get a full check-up?”

“No need,” An He replied. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Lack of rest affects your blood too,” Song Mother reminded. “Can’t you skip this trip?”

“It’s already arranged. I can’t postpone it.”

Song Mother pursed her lips. “Then at least promise me you’ll come back as soon as you’re done.”

“I will.”

The second call was to Tiantian.

Tiantian picked up quickly. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s up?”

“I have to go on a last-minute business trip. Can you look after Tuantuan for me?”

Tuantuan was a stray cat An He had rescued—a tiny, adorable thing she kept at her rented apartment.

Tiantian had found that apartment for her, a place where An He often went when she was upset or needed to unwind, sitting with Tuantuan and talking for hours.

Tuantuan was the best listener.

It knew most of An He’s secrets.

“No problem, I’ll take care of Tuantuan,” Tiantian said. “How long will you be gone?”

“Not sure yet. Depends on how fast things move.” An He thought for a moment. “Shouldn’t be too long. Sorry to trouble you.”

“Oh, please,” Tiantian said, mock-annoyed. “Tuantuan’s my baby too.”

An He smiled faintly. “Right, you’re still her godmother.”

Tiantian suddenly remembered something. “You’re going alone, or…?”

“With Song Yu.”

Tiantian gave a teasing laugh. “Well, maybe it’ll feel like a little vacation then.”

But An He didn’t share her enthusiasm. “You know I don’t want to go with him.”

Tiantian understood all too well—An He’s feelings for Song Yu, and his cold indifference in return. “Hehe, if it’s too hard, just stop loving him, alright?”

She genuinely felt sorry for An He. The woman poured her entire heart into Song Yu and the Song family.

With her skills, An He could easily find a better job in Nancheng, but instead she stayed on as Song Yu’s secretary—handling petty, trivial tasks every day.

And that monthly blood donation… Tiantian still didn’t know who it was really for.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt it wasn’t worth it. “Seriously, Hehe, if it’s too exhausting, just stop loving him.”

An He wanted to—but she couldn’t. She loved Song Yu so deeply it had reached her bones. Unless she died, she couldn’t forget him.

“Tiantian, I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

It wasn’t that An He was naïve about love. She was simply… too lonely. When she finally found someone who felt like light, she couldn’t let go.

She was terrified of falling back into that darkness again.

Tiantian sighed softly. “I don’t know what sins you committed in a past life, but you’re paying for them now—falling for someone like Song Yu.”

An He knew her friend’s frustration came from love. She coaxed gently, “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t let myself get hurt.”

“You said it.” Tiantian repeated firmly. “No getting hurt. The moment something feels wrong, you pull back. Immediately.”

“I will. I promise.”

An He thought Liu Chen would also be joining the trip. But once she got into the car, she realized it was only her and Song Yu.

Technically, this was the first time they’d ever traveled alone together. The feeling was hard to describe.

“You’ve been avoiding me lately?” Song Yu didn’t like pretense. He preferred things laid out plainly. “Why?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.” An He shifted to the side, putting more space between them. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy?” His eyes lifted, cold and sharp. “You’re lying to me now?”

His presence was overpowering, and An He felt as though his gaze could pierce right through her. She flinched unconsciously, fingers twisting together.

“I’m not lying,” she murmured. “I really have been busy.”

“Come here.”

“You can say what you need to say from there.”

“An He.” His voice turned cold. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She hesitated… then gave in, moving closer—only to be pulled into his lap a moment later, his arms tightening around her waist.

The driver raised the partition. Low music filled the car, muting any sound.

Song Yu tilted her chin upward. “What are you angry about?”

He honestly couldn’t think of what he’d done wrong.

“I’m not angry.” She squirmed slightly.

“Lying again.” His hand slid to her throat, his voice low and dangerous. “What do you think would happen if such a beautiful neck were to break?”

The last time he’d said that, she’d burst into tears. But this time, she only whispered, “You can try.”

The rabbit had grown thorns.

He didn’t like it.

Song Yu preferred her obedient—submissive, pliant. This defiant version of An He irritated him.

“Don’t try to change yourself,” he murmured against her lips, biting down hard. “I don’t like it.”

The pain made her gasp. “Song Yu, let me go.”

When he didn’t, she pushed him—then slapped him.

Her first time hitting anyone. She froze, heart pounding wildly.

Would he hit her back?

He didn’t. Instead, he caught her by the back of the neck, forcing her to look at him. “You’ve grown bold, daring to hit me now.”

“You forced me—”

That word—force—he hated it.

“I forced you?” His hand slid to her waist, fingers pressing and kneading. His breath brushed her ear. “An He, you wanted it too.”

Her body betrayed her—he was too skilled, too deliberate.

“Not saying anything?” he murmured. “Or are you too afraid to admit how much you want it?”

She trembled.

“Say it,” he ordered. “Say you like it when I touch you.”

He always made her say such humiliating words. The last time she resisted, she’d been punished—left too sore to get out of bed for three days.

This time, he didn’t rush her. He simply stared, eyes growing darker, colder.

Finally, she bit her lip and whispered, “I… I like it when you do.”

“Like what, exactly?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Do you have to treat me like this?”

“Yes. So tell me—what do you like?”

An He closed her eyes, as if that could hide her shame. When she opened them again, her voice trembled. “I like… when you kiss me.”

A pause. “And when we… make love.”

It was the most degrading thing she’d ever said.

Song Yu’s fingers traced the curve of her collarbone, slow and deliberate. “From now on, don’t disobey me.”

“Got it,” she murmured faintly.

“Straddle me.”

She obeyed.

The position made her stiff and awkward, afraid to move or even meet his gaze.

Song Yu loved that contrast—the puppet that came alive under his hands, the sound of her quiet gasps and broken whispers.

He wanted her completely intoxicated by him.

So she’d never leave.

“Undo my tie.”

Her fingers trembled as she reached up, loosening the knot, taking far too long.

“Buttons too.”

When she hesitated, he lost patience, pulling her close until their bodies pressed together.

He bit her chin lightly. “Still so slow. Guess I haven’t trained you enough.”

“That’s not it…”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said softly. “We’ve got all night.”

That night, he was strangely gentle—his words low, his touch uncharacteristically careful.

“As long as you obey, I’ll treat you well.”
“An He, I like you best when you’re good.”
“Hehe, don’t ever do anything to anger me again. You couldn’t handle the consequences.”

She could only cry, unable to speak.

On the plane, An He quickly fell asleep. When they landed in City B, she was still out cold, and Song Yu personally carried her off.

The staff waiting to receive them exchanged startled glances but said nothing.

“Head to the hotel,” Song Yu ordered curtly.

As the car neared the hotel, his phone rang.

Caller ID: Mom.

He answered. “What is it?”

“You brought Hehe on the trip?” Song Mother asked.

“Yes.”

“Why her?” she pressed. “Did you forget that Treading Snow’s follow-up requires her soon?”
(t/n: “Treading Snow” likely refers to a codename for a medical or personal project involving blood donations.)

“It’s not time yet.”

“That doesn’t mean you can drag her around.” Her tone sharpened. “Ayu, don’t forget what you promised me—you said you’d take care of Rongrong.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Rongrong needs blood every month. Keep a close eye on An He.”

Song Yu frowned. “I know.”

“And one more thing—don’t get any ideas about her. You and she will never happen.”

Before she could finish, he hung up.

He turned to the window, lost in thought.

Which was why he didn’t notice that the woman beside him—who’d seemed to be sleeping—had opened her eyes.

An He had heard everything.

Including the name his mother mentioned.

Rongrong. Keke.

Could they be the same person?