After I Was Gone, Mr. Song Said He Loved Me

I expected Song Yu to ignore me like he did the last time I stayed here, not even bothering to check in. But halfway through dinner, I heard Aunt Zhang respectfully say “President Song” at the entrance.

The echo of “President Song” drifted into my ears just as Song Yu entered the dining room. It was too late for me to retreat upstairs.

Aunt Zhang followed him, apologizing for not preparing a lavish dinner.

Song Yu smiled and reassured her, “It’s fine, I’ve already eaten outside.”

With his words, Aunt Zhang’s anxious expression eased, and she discreetly withdrew.

I awkwardly moved my lips to greet Song Yu.

He didn’t respond, instead settling into the chair beside me. I continued sipping my soup, feeling uneasy, sensing that Song Yu had something to say.

But throughout the meal, he remained silent, just sitting next to me, absorbed in his phone.

This left me feeling even more uncertain.

Finally, unable to hold back, I asked, “President Song, is there something you want to discuss?”

Song Yu looked up at me with a smile, “No.”

I was taken aback, then forced a stiff laugh, unsure how to proceed. I had assumed he was going to assign me some negotiation task with a corporate boss, but perhaps was holding back due to my incomplete recovery. Yet, he asked nothing of me, leaving me somewhat at a loss.

Song Yu’s calm demeanor made me more apprehensive.

“What’s wrong?” Song Yu asked, noticing my silence.

I snapped back to reality, shaking my head with a smile, “Nothing.”

“Finished eating?” Song Yu glanced at the chopsticks on the table.

“Oh, yes, I’m done.” I quickly grabbed a napkin to wipe my mouth.

My overly tense and rigid movements seemed to amuse Song Yu as he leaned back, scrutinizing me, “Why are you so tense? Afraid of me?”

I hesitated before admitting, “Yes.”

Song Yu seemed intrigued, asking, “Afraid of what?”

I bit my lower lip, pondering how to answer, finally opting for honesty, “Song Yu, I feel like I don’t know you at all. You seem more and more unfamiliar, making me question which version of you is real.”

“Does it matter?” Song Yu scoffed.

I lowered my gaze, self-mockingly realizing, “Right, it doesn’t matter.”

Since I no longer cared about Song Yu, his true self or intentions were irrelevant to me.

Song Yu didn’t pursue the topic further. Instead, he said, “Come to the study once you’re done.” With that, he stood and headed upstairs.

I quickly got up to follow, but in my haste, I pulled at my wound, wincing in pain.

Song Yu turned to look at me, his gaze darkening, then changed direction and walked towards me.

I watched him warily, instinctively stepping back, only to bump into a chair, causing a dull thud.

The inappropriate sound added tension to the already delicate atmosphere between us.

Song Yu narrowed his eyes, his expression suddenly sharp.

I froze, heart pounding, afraid to move.

Song Yu walked up to me, slightly bent down, and scooped me up in a classic princess carry. His movements were so natural and effortless, as if he’d done it countless times before.

My breath caught, and my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. Any words of refusal were quickly swallowed by Song Yu’s commanding presence.

“If you’re scared, just behave,” he said.

It was a scene that should have made my heart race with excitement, yet I was too afraid to even breathe. Song Yu’s deep voice carried an undeniable authority that shattered any resistance I might have had, leaving me no choice but to obediently lean against him.

As Song Yu carried me, he suddenly furrowed his brow and asked, “What have you been eating this past month?”

“Huh?” I was momentarily confused.

“Why have you lost so much weight?”

Only then did I realize he was commenting on my weight. “Nothing special, just the usual.”

In truth, during the month without seeing Song Yu, I spent my nights either at bars or clubs, practically drowning myself in alcohol, only to stagger home and sleep off the hangover. The next day, I’d drag myself to work.

Though my lifestyle was indulgent and decadent, it allowed me to temporarily forget about Song Yu during those long nights, which I was more than willing to do.

Perhaps sensing the evasiveness in my answer, Song Yu didn’t press further. He simply carried me up to the study on the second floor.

At the door, I awkwardly suggested he could put me down, indicating I was fine. But he just kicked the door open and carried me inside.

Even though I had lived in this villa for quite some time, it was my first time entering Song Yu’s study.

I had expected his study to be lavishly decorated or filled with books that exuded sophistication. Instead, the room’s simplicity was almost poignant. The walls were primarily gray, with an absurdly large desk that could easily accommodate three people. On it sat a computer and a fax machine. Beside the desk, a gray wooden bookshelf stood by the arched window, holding various documents and files. The room’s layout mirrored his personality-efficient and straightforward.

Song Yu placed me on the sofa, then returned to the desk, turned on the computer, and began flipping through a stack of A4 papers, all without saying a word.

I sat there obediently, my mind racing with questions, unsure of Song Yu’s intentions.

Compared to my unease, Song Yu seemed perfectly at ease, treating me like a doll placed on the sofa while he got to work.

I thought he might have something work-related to discuss with me, so I waited and waited, watching as the clock on the wall ticked away. But Song Yu showed no sign of acknowledging my presence.

Finally, unable to wait any longer, I asked again, “President Song, are you sure there’s nothing you want to say to me?”

Song Yu remained focused on the computer screen and casually replied, “No.”

“Then why did you bring me here…?” I was bewildered. If there was nothing to discuss, why bring me to the study? Was he planning to read my fortune?

Song Yu clicked the mouse, turned to look at me, and with an inscrutable smile said, “I just had dinner with you, now you accompany me at work. It’s a fair exchange, perfectly reasonable.”

I opened my mouth, but all that came out was a scoff of disbelief.

I hadn’t asked him to dine with me; he chose to do so himself, and now accompanying him at work was suddenly my obligation.

I had to admire Song Yu’s intellect; even in trivial matters, he managed to leave me speechless.

Since knowing Song Yu, he’s always been like this. He appears to respect me, giving me choices, but in reality, he subtly nudges me to follow his plan.

Whenever I stray from his control, he pulls me back by any means necessary, reprimands me, and then acts as if nothing happened, offering a sweet gesture to placate me.

Song Yu is a master at manipulating hearts; he can elevate you to the skies one moment and crush you into the dirt the next.

That’s the main reason why I fear him.

After more than an hour, the repetitive sound of Song Yu clicking the mouse and flipping through files lulled me into drowsiness. My posture shifted from upright to slouched, and eventually, I lay sprawled on the sofa, eyes closing involuntarily.

Suddenly, I felt myself lifted, instinctively reaching out to grab something. When I opened my eyes, my arms were wrapped around Song Yu’s neck.

In the past, being held like this by Song Yu would have sent my heart racing with excitement, but now I resisted such close contact.

I pushed against his chest, my tone defiant, “I can walk on my own.”

Song Yu ignored me, carrying me out of the study towards his bedroom.

Alarm bells rang in my head, and I began to squirm like a fish caught in his arms, “President Song, I’ve changed rooms.”

Song Yu abruptly stopped, looking down at me, “Changed rooms?”

I hesitated, then nodded, “I can’t keep occupying your bedroom.”

The implication was clear-I no longer wanted to maintain that kind of relationship with him.

Song Yu chuckled, his voice casual, “Are you afraid I’ll do something to you, or afraid I won’t do anything?”

My breath caught, my throat constricting as if caught in a guilty moment.

“Which is it?” Song Yu stared at me, his eyes gleaming with insight, as if he could see right through me.

His teasing tone left me flustered, annoyed that my carefully suppressed feelings were stirred up by a mere comment from him.

It was truly spineless.

“Neither, I just don’t want to sleep with you anymore,” I stated plainly.

I expected Song Yu to threaten me or say something irresistible, but instead, he sighed in apparent difficulty, “What to do? I want to sleep with you.”

My heart skipped a beat, my breath faltering. Song Yu always managed to say the most alluring things with a straight face.

“That’s your problem, not mine,” I retorted, struggling to free myself from his embrace without aggravating my injury.

Suddenly, a muffled groan.

I looked up to see Song Yu’s brow furrowed, his arm muscles contracting as if in pain.

I paused, then remembered something and quickly glanced at Song Yu’s hand.

The white bandage on his palm was slowly being stained with red.

“Song… Song Yu, you’re bleeding,” I exclaimed in shock.

His voice turned low, his arms tightening around me, and just as I was about to struggle, Song Yu’s cool voice sounded above my head.

“If you don’t want me to bleed, then stop moving.”

“…”

I wanted to say, what does your bleeding have to do with me?

It’s not me who’s hurting.