[German Shepherds make the best guard dogs.]

“Leave.”

These words sounded familiar. Seven years ago, during her senior year of high school, after a disastrous third mock exam, she had secretly hidden in the underground parking garage of their school. When he found her that day, she had said the same thing to him.

Hou Zihao… you should leave first.

Back then, her intention wasn’t to drive him away. In truth, she desperately needed him, wanted him to stay by her side. But she was afraid of dragging him down with her, so she tried to push him out of her world, hoping he would be spared from her troubles.

And at that time, he had said—

I won’t leave. I’ll wait for you.

I’ll be right here. Unless you leave first, I’ll always be here.

How was the current situation any different from then? Only their positions were reversed now. And as an adult, he didn’t cry as much as she had when they were teenagers.

Zhou Leqi stood up from her seat and walked to his bedside. Carefully, she hugged him, mindful of his injured right shoulder and the numerous scrapes on his hand from protecting her during their fall. She avoided these wounds as she embraced him.

“I’m not leaving,” she whispered softly into the quiet embrace. “I’ll wait for you.”

“I’ll be right here. Unless you leave first, I’ll always be here.”

The same words, exchanged roles, unchanging sincerity.

His breathing was uneven, a result of the intense emotional turmoil within him. She felt warmth against her shoulder—perhaps his tears—but he made no sound. She knew he didn’t want her to notice, so she chose to remain silent, pretending not to detect anything.

Until he finally calmed down.

Until he was finally ready to tell her about the past.

He told her many things.

For instance, after the graduation trip to Hainan ended, he received a call from home while at the airport. That’s when he first learned about the trouble at home—his father urging him to return immediately. Looking back now, whether he returned or not wouldn’t have changed anything. His parents must have known that too; it was just one last chance to see each other. After his mother went to prison, visiting her would no longer be easy.

For an eighteen-year-old boy, such upheaval was overwhelming. The death of Hou Feng broke the final pillar supporting his world. He was not only consumed by grief and pain but also plagued by guilt day and night.

Had he caused his father’s death?

If he hadn’t tried to leave home that day, would the tragedy have been avoided?

He didn’t know.

He desperately wanted to see his mother, but Su Ruini hadn’t been sentenced yet and couldn’t receive family visits in detention—only lawyers were allowed in. So he could only entrust a lawyer to deliver the news of his father’s passing to his mother. As he handled his father’s funeral arrangements alone, he waited anxiously for the lawyer’s response.

The lawyer soon returned with a message: Su Ruini had left him three sentences:

First, “Mom did something wrong, so she must face punishment. Don’t feel sorry for me.”

Second, “Your father’s accident wasn’t your fault. Don’t carry this burden.”

Third, “Follow Uncle Yuan’s arrangements and go abroad. Never come back.”

Three clear sentences, but they raised countless questions for him.

Why wasn’t it his fault?

Why did he have to go abroad?

Couldn’t he stay here?

No one gave him answers, and there was no time to think. After Hou Feng’s death, a series of events overwhelmed him: the lawyer brought a statement transferring Haoting’s shares, claiming it was his mother’s arrangement, even providing a recording as proof. He wasn’t greedy for the assets, but he didn’t understand why his mother would make such a decision, so he instinctively refused to sign.

Then Yuan Jianxin appeared.

He arrived hurriedly, presenting himself as a protector. With gentle but pained words, he told Hou Zihao that he was entrusted by Su Ruini to take care of him and would assume control of Haoting’s shares in his name, protecting them from others’ greed and disputes. He promised to return the shares once Hou Zihao graduated from university.

“Zihao, go abroad,” Yuan Jianxin urged earnestly and anxiously. “Listen to your mother. Leave quickly. Leave now.”

Why? Why did he have to go?

“What if someone wants revenge on you? Your father was killed by a hit-and-run driver. How do you know what those heartless people might do next? What if they want to kill you?”

“You’re not safe now, and neither are the people around you!”

“Zihao… leave quickly!”

These final words woke him up, bringing back the memory of Hou Feng being crushed bloody before his eyes.

It was his fault… though no one said it directly, he knew it was his fault. He was still too naive, unaware that danger had already silently descended upon him. He had been sucked into an unknown whirlpool, behind which lay complex struggles he lacked the judgment to comprehend. All he could do was spin helplessly in the vast, mysterious maze of fate.

He agreed to go abroad.

Everything happened so quickly—looking back now, all of it unfolded in less than two weeks. Within that short span, he experienced his mother’s arrest, his father’s death, the renouncement of his family’s wealth, and exile from his homeland. It all seemed far too surreal.

The world had changed too fast, too violently. His mind was numb and chaotic. Only moments before boarding the plane did he regain a sliver of clarity. He wondered if he should say goodbye to her.

Goodbye? That word felt inappropriate, as if he still had a chance to return, as if he could still find her, as if there could still be a future between them. The proper word should have been “breakup.” But he never had the courage to face that term, as if uttering it would extinguish the last flicker of light in his heart.

How could he explain it to her?

Tell her everything that had happened in his family? That would seem strange, almost like begging for pity, pleading for her not to leave him, trying to bind her to him out of moral obligation, despite his ruined life. Of course, that wasn’t what he truly wanted.

He wanted her to leave him. He wanted her to live a smooth, happy life. He wanted her to be safe and healthy.

Once, he had been confident, believing he could always be by her side, that he could support her and her family. But in reality, he couldn’t. Instead, he would bring her danger, misfortune, or at least trouble and blame.

He wouldn’t do that.

A German Shepherd is the best guard dog. It’s born to protect its master’s safety. If it realizes it’s sick, injured, or dying, it will quietly leave its master, hiding in a place where it can’t be found. It knows its master will cry, but trust me—after the sadness passes, you’ll be better off. I even hope you’ll blame me, hate me, and remember me as a selfish, hateful ex. That way, you won’t sink into this devouring swamp with me…

“I’m sorry.”

In the final moment before turning off his phone, he sent her one last message.

Then came seven long, lonely years.

Oxford was a peaceful and beautiful place. There, he awaited the news of Su Ruini’s ten-year prison sentence and learned that Haoting had welcomed a new CEO, Wang Ran. In the early years, Yuan Jianxin and Zhang Min frequently visited him and Yuan Jiahui in the UK, always complaining about Wang Ran, calling him a cunning and ruthless person.

He showed little reaction. For several years, he lived in a daze, mechanically pretending to be a normal person during the day, but inside, he was nothing more than a walking corpse, devoid of normal emotions. Only at night, alone, did he feel a semblance of reality. In his dreams, he saw the past, imagining Hou Feng still alive, Su Ruini still the boss. Hou Feng would work late at the hospital, and Su Ruini would complain about her husband coming home too late. Upon returning, Hou Feng would humble himself and apologize, always managing to cheer her up.

Of course, he also dreamed of her.

He dreamed of the dusk when he first saw her across the playground, of nights riding the bus with her, of her whispering softly during secret calls, of her slightly curved eyes when she hugged him. Once, he even dreamed they got married, surrounded by family and friends. She wore a beautiful white wedding dress and said, “I do.”

Of course, these were all lies. When he woke up, all that greeted him was England’s endless night and the loud snores of his Italian roommate next door.

Gradually, he began to suffer from insomnia.

He finally understood how painful her depression must have been—lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling until dawn was torturous. He endured it for a while, later relying on melatonin, and eventually, even that stopped working. So at night, he began occupying himself with other tasks.

Like spying on everything about her.

On the official website of their old high school, he saw the announcement that she had ranked first in the province. He knew she had gone to Tsinghua University’s School of Economics and Management. He was happy for her. Later, he developed the habit of constantly checking Tsinghua’s website, scouring various school accounts for any trace of her—freshman welcome events, sports meets, scholarships, volunteer teaching, charity activities, commendations, paper publications… Every fragment of information about her became a treasure he clung to for comfort.

By chance, he also found Yu Qing’s video account, filled with cooking content. His girl occasionally appeared, usually just a hand holding chopsticks or a glimpse of her pretty jawline while tasting food. Even these small details were enough to comfort him from over 7,000 kilometers away, as if he hadn’t lost her, as if they were still together.

He would obsess over these tiny fragments, replaying them repeatedly until dawn. Then a new day would begin, and he would once again pretend to live like a normal person.

This hazy existence continued until Haoting’s delisting four years ago.

During those four years, he had believed his mother was truly guilty. He saw the torrent of domestic media condemning her, feeling both heartbroken for Su Ruini and unable to avoid guilt toward those harmed in the incident. When Haoting delisted, the domestic response was overwhelmingly positive, celebrating the downfall of a “heartless company.” The media covered it extensively, proclaiming the triumph of justice.

Amidst the flood of information, a few photos caught his eye—Wang Ran and Yuan Jianxin appearing together, easily overlooked among more significant, symbolic images. Yet, inexplicably, they seized his attention.