He Thought She’d Never Leave—Until She Did - Chapter 9

An He had her own social circle. It wouldn’t be difficult for her to dig up information on someone if she wanted to. But even so, she still clung to the tiniest shred of hope—she didn’t want to tear through the last layer of illusion herself.

In the end, it was Song Yu’s mother who made that decision for her.

The weather was beautiful that day. An He was staying in the old Song residence. The night before, Song Yu had come home drunk—and without hesitation, stormed into her room.

They hadn’t been spending much time together lately, and moments of intimacy had become rare.

Whether it was the alcohol or something else, that night, Song Yu had been like a man possessed. He tormented her endlessly until dawn.

Half a box of what was in the bedside drawer was gone.

There had even been one time when they didn’t use any protection at all.

She had tried to push him away, but she couldn’t match his strength and had no choice but to yield.

Pinned beneath him, Song Yu demanded, “Why haven’t you been answering your phone? Why haven’t you replied to my messages?”

It was true—she hadn’t taken his calls lately.

At the office, she pretended not to see him. When he asked her to travel with him again, she refused.

The moment work ended, she vanished like smoke.

To outsiders, nothing seemed amiss. But Song Yu sensed it. And that was why, under the cover of drunkenness, he had lost control that night.

In the end, An He hadn’t been able to guard her heart—she gave in, letting him do as he pleased.

When she woke, her waist ached so badly it felt like it might break.

That was when Song Yu’s mother entered, holding a bowl of soup and smiling gently. “Hehe, I made you some ginseng soup to replenish your blood. Come on, drink it while it’s warm.”

But the moment she noticed the marks blooming across An He’s neck, the smile on her face disappeared.

This room was off-limits to everyone but the Song family. When An He returned last night, everything was fine. The only thing that had changed—was what happened overnight.

Knowing her son’s temperament, Song Mother immediately guessed what had happened. Disgust filled her eyes, completely unhidden.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked coldly.

An He drew her robe tighter and replied softly, “It’s an allergy.”

Song Mother’s tone sharpened. “An allergy? Really?”

An He nodded. “Yes.”

Both of them knew it was a lie. Song Mother set down the bowl of soup. “You should take better care of yourself.”

An He pressed her lips together and murmured, “I know.”

Song Mother pointed at the bowl. “Drink this.”

Truthfully, An He hated those kinds of tonic soups—they were fishy, thick, and awful to swallow.

“I’m not hungry right now. I’ll drink it later.”

“I told you to drink it, so drink it.” Song Mother’s veneer of gentleness cracked, revealing the steel beneath. “An He, don’t think just because the Song family indulges you that you can do whatever you please.”

Startled, An He looked up. “Mom, what are you saying?”

“Since we’re already speaking so frankly, let’s not pretend anymore.” Song Mother’s voice turned ice-cold. “You are Yuyu’s sister in name. The two of you are impossible.”

An He had always known this day might come—but she never thought it would be today.

Caught off guard, she stammered, “Mom, I—Yuyu and I, we—”

Smack!

The slap rang out sharp and clear.

“Yuyu is your brother! Who gave you permission to call him by name?”

The ringing in An He’s left ear drowned out everything else. For one dizzying moment, her world went silent.

The burning pain on her cheek told her this wasn’t a dream.

Song Mother had actually hit her.

The woman who had once promised to love her, to protect her—had hit her.

Covering her face, An He turned her head slowly, her heart breaking beyond repair.

“Mom… you hit me?” she whispered, tears trembling in her voice.

“Yes, I hit you.” Song Mother’s neck stiffened as she glared. “We took you in out of kindness, and this is how you repay us?”

“An He, you’re ungrateful beyond belief!”

“No wonder people say that some are rotten to the core and can never change. That’s you!”

“If I’d known you’d turn out this way, I never would’ve brought you back!”

“You disgust me!”

Song Mother had been raised in a wealthy, cultured family. She had always been elegant, well-mannered, and composed—never one to raise her voice or quarrel. In An He’s memory, she was the gentlest woman alive.

But hearing her spew such venom, An He finally realized how wrong she had been.

She hadn’t been truly kind—she’d only pretended.
She hadn’t really cared for her—she’d only acted like she did.

An He got out of bed, voice trembling. “Did you ever care about me? Did you ever really think of me as your daughter?”

Song Mother’s expression turned proud and severe. “I hit you because you betrayed my trust. This is all your fault.”

“Then was I also at fault for being your blood bank?” An He asked suddenly.

Song Mother froze. “Blood bank? What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about?” An He rolled up her sleeve, showing the faint scars of needle marks. “These. Ever since I came to this house, I’ve been giving blood—sometimes once a month, sometimes more. Don’t tell me you didn’t treat me like a blood source.”

She stepped closer. “I’m just curious—who exactly needs my blood so badly? Would you like to tell me, Mom?”

That word—“Mom”—was stripped of all warmth, polite as a stranger’s address.

Song Mother stumbled back, bumping into a chair. Her voice trembled. “You—you’re talking nonsense. There’s no such thing. The blood draws were just medical checkups! You’ve always been weak, always getting sick.”

“If not for the Song family, do you really think you’d be able to live such a comfortable life?”

Even she didn’t notice how badly her legs were shaking.

An He gave a bitter smile. “For me? You’re still lying, even now? If you were truly doing it for me, would you have forced me to drink those awful tonics?”

“Have you forgotten how I once begged you—on my knees—for mercy? How I begged the Song family to stop?”

“I said I didn’t want to give blood anymore because it hurt too much.”

“But did you ever show mercy? Not once.”

“So don’t tell me it was for my own good.”

Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears, blood-red with fury. “The one who needs my blood… her name is Rongrong, isn’t it?”

Song Mother’s eyes widened, her entire body trembling. “You—”

“I heard your conversation with Song Yu.”

An He let out a low, bitter laugh. “And who’s Keke? Or maybe… they’re the same person.”

Song Mother didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. An He already knew she was right.

Rongrong and Keke were one and the same.

“Does Song Yu know about this?” An He asked quietly, still clinging to one last desperate illusion—that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t.

“Does he?”

Song Mother was barely standing now, gripping the cabinet for balance. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? That’s fine.” An He’s tone was calm. “Starting next month, I won’t be giving blood anymore.”

“No!” Song Mother snapped, voice sharp with panic. “If you stop, Rongrong will die!”

“And what does that have to do with me?” An He said flatly. “Even if she dies, it has nothing to do with me.”

“An He, you’re too cruel!” Song Mother raised her hand again, but An He stepped back. “Mom, you want to hit me again?”

“Sorry, but that’s not happening.”

Though her face was composed, her heart was in chaos. She turned and went into the dressing room, changed her clothes, and without even washing her face, went downstairs.

She couldn’t stand being in that house another second.

Song Mother ran after her. “Where are you going? Stop right there!”

An He ignored her and quickened her pace.

“Stop her!” Song Mother shouted at the servants.

An He’s voice was cold as ice. “I’d like to see who dares.”

The servants exchanged nervous glances, but no one moved. An He strode out the door.

Once the car started down the main road, the tears she’d been holding back finally fell.

Being betrayed by the Song family hurt more than being abandoned all those years ago.

She had loved them sincerely, for so many years—and all she got in return was exploitation.

They were… truly cruel.

“What did you say?” Tian Tian thought she’d misheard and rubbed her ear. “Wait—say that again?”

An He repeated everything from beginning to end. Tian Tian shot up from her seat. “So that’s how they used you? Those bastards! I swear, I’ll tear them apart myself!”

An He grabbed her arm. “Don’t rush. There’s something more important I need you to do.”

“More important?!” Tian Tian sat back down, furious. “How can you still be this calm?”

“It’s already happened,” An He said quietly. “Losing control won’t change anything.”

“Then make noise—fight back!” Tian Tian rolled up her sleeves. “The Songs care about their reputation, right? Let’s see how they like it when the whole city knows what they’ve done.”

“Tian Tian,” An He said softly, “there are still things I haven’t figured out. Once I have all the answers, then I’ll make noise.”

“What things?”

“I need to know who this Rongrong really is—and what she is to the Song family. What she is to Song Yu.”

Tian Tian gritted her teeth. “Fine. I’ll find out. Once we know everything, we’ll make them pay—together.”

“Alright,” An He agreed.

Seeing how pale and exhausted she looked, Tian Tian pulled her into a hug. “Are you okay?”

“You want the truth?”

“Of course.”

“No. I’m not okay at all.”

“It’s all Song Yu’s fault,” Tian Tian growled. “If he really betrayed you, I won’t let him off easy.”

The Song family’s power in Nancheng was unshakable—most people wouldn’t dare cross them.

Not even Tian Tian’s family.

An He didn’t want her dragging her own family into this. “I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep it off.”

“Then go ahead,” Tian Tian said gently. “Rest first. We’ll talk when you wake up.”

“Okay. I’ll nap for a bit.”

She was truly exhausted—she hadn’t slept until four in the morning, then had been woken up at seven, slapped, shouted at, and thrown out. Her head throbbed, her heart ached.

All she wanted was to close her eyes for a while.

She dreamed of the past.

It was her senior year of high school. One day, Song Yu brought home another girl—also a senior. She was tall, graceful, and beautiful.

Her name… was Rongrong.

Song Mother had treated the girl like a treasure, piling food onto her plate and saying warmly, “From now on, treat this as your home.”

The girl had blushed shyly. “Thank you, Auntie.”

“Don’t call me Auntie,” Song Mother had said with a smile. “Call me Mom.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

Then Song Mother had taken off her jade bracelet and handed it to the girl. “Rongrong, this is my gift to you. From now on, you’re my daughter too.”

“Oh, and this is your sister, Keke.”

The girl smiled. “Keke? That’s funny—Mom, my nickname is also Keke.”

Song Mother had patted her hand affectionately. “Then from now on, you’ll be Keke.”

She turned to An He. “We’ll call you Hehe instead.”

From that day on, everyone in the Song family called her Hehe.

The memory blurred, her dream blurring with it. She could never quite see the girl’s face—only the pale silk cheongsam she wore and the soft makeup that made her glow.

The dream shifted again.

They were in the garden. Song Yu was tucking a flower into the girl’s hair.

“Do you like it?”

“Mm. Thank you, Brother Yu.”

Standing a few steps away, An He watched them, feeling the cold wind bite into her bones.

A sudden crack of thunder jolted her awake. She opened her eyes—
and saw a tall figure standing by the window.

Broad shoulders. Narrow waist. That familiar silhouette she knew too well.

When he turned, the light caught his face—his eyes gleaming with something dark and dangerous.

An He’s breath caught in her throat.

Why was Song Yu here?

Her gaze darted around. Then she realized—this wasn’t Tian Tian’s apartment.

It was Song Yu’s private villa.

The one they had toured together.

The curtains, the furniture—everything had been chosen to her taste.

He had once said, “This is our home.”

And back then, she had believed him.

But now, looking at it again—
it felt more like a cage.

“An He,” Song Yu said slowly, his voice low and threatening. “I told you—you’re not leaving.”