Veil of Secrets
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. It explores deep emotional connections between the characters with intense moments. Reader discretion is advised.]
Yibo struggled.
Fury surging through him as the arm clamped across his chest tightened, holding him back.
“Let me go!”
He tried to yell, but the hand muffled his voice.
He twisted, elbowing back—until the voice whispered urgently in his ear:
“Calm down, Bobo. If you want to keep him alive, don’t make a sound.”
That voice.
Familiar.
So damn familiar!
Yibo froze.
His heart pounded.
His mind racing.
He knew this voice.
He had heard it almost every day for years.
The man behind him loosened his grip slowly.
Yibo turned around.
And saw him.
Mr. Qiao.
The shock punched through him like a bullet.
“Uncle…?!”
He whispered.
Mr. Qiao looked at him—calm but stern.
“Don’t make a sound.”
He said.
“Not if you want to see him alive.”
Yibo’s entire world tilted.
“You… what are you doing here?”
Mr. Qiao didn’t answer.
His gaze was locked on the window.
Zhan’s body slumped in the chair.
Blood dripping to the floor.
Yibo’s eyes filled with tears.
“He’s bleeding. I have to—”
“No…”
Qiao said firmly, stepping in front of him.
“You step in now, he dies.”
Mr. Qiao said firmly.
“Not immediately. But your father will make sure it’s slow. And worse? He’ll know you were here. That you betrayed him.”
“But he’s hurting him. I didn’t agree to that—”
Yibo’s voice cracked.
“You never should’ve agreed to any of this.”
Mr. Qiao said sharply.
Yibo swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady.
“He told me he would only talk. And since he knew I love Zhan, he said he would never think of causing any harm. He promised me.”
Mr. Qiao sighed, his voice softening with a hint of regret.
“It’s alright, Bobo. I can’t blame you. He raised you that way. You never saw or doubted his love, but all he did was manipulate you.”
Mr. Qiao continued.
“By the time I realized what was happening, it was already too late. I tried to reach you as soon as I could—but by the time I got here, you were already in this mess.”
Yibo swallowed.
Shaken.
Silent.
“Do you even understand what you handed over so easily to your father?”
Mr. Qiao’s voice lowered, rough with frustration.
“We’ve spent twenty-seven years trying to keep this hidden. To protect it.”
“And you, Bobo—you handed it to him on a silver platter.”
Yibo’s brows drew together.
“What are you talking about?”
Mr. Qiao turned to him, eyes fierce.
“I’m talking about the truth. The truth your father buried, the truth we’ve all been bleeding to guard.”
Yibo shook his head slowly.
“What truth?”
Qiao exhaled hard, then pointed inside.
“That man in there? The one you think betrayed you? He’s the only one who’s been trying to save you. Zhan wasn’t playing you. He was protecting you—from the same monster who raised you like a pawn, not a son.”
Yibo turned slowly to Mr. Qiao, realization dawning in his voice.
“You already knew who Zhan was… didn’t you?”
Mr. Qiao looked at him, something unspoken flickering in his eyes.
“Bobo… I knew Zhan even before you were born.”
“Zhan knows things—about your life—that you don’t even have the faintest idea about.”
Yibo’s legs felt weak.
He leaned against the wall, chest heaving.
“But why didn’t he just tell me?”
“Because he couldn’t. Because we wouldn’t.“
Qiao’s voice trembled now.
“It wasn’t just about love, Bobo. It was about survival.”
“And Zhan—he spent years laying the groundwork, making sacrifices you’ll never even know, just to protect you when it counted.”
Yibo looked back through the broken window.
Zhan was still.
Bleeding.
Tied like a prisoner.
Mr. Qiao continued, softer now.
“He’s not going to talk. No matter how much pain he has to endure. He’ll bleed… but he won’t break.”
“That’s who Zhan is. Loyal to the end. He’ll protect the people tied to it. Including you.”
Yibo looked away, guilt tearing through him.
“That’s what makes it worse. Your father won’t stop… not until Zhan breaks.”
Mr. Qaio looked at Yibo, voice heavy with concern.
Yibo’s voice cracked.
“Why… why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because your father would’ve destroyed you and him the moment he found out.”
Silence.
Heavy.
“That man—”
Qiao pointed toward the warehouse.
“The one you call your father—is not who you think he is. He never was.”
Yibo’s lips parted in disbelief, but no sound came.
Qiao continued, each word heavy with truth:
“Zhan didn’t come into your life to deceive you. He came to free you.”
“He’s spent years trying to tear down the monster who built your golden cage. The same cage you’ve lived in for twenty-seven years and called it home.”
Yibo stumbled back a step.
His pulse roared in his ears.
“Zhan was protecting you.”
Qiao said quietly.
“Every move. Every silence. Every lie he had to tell you—it was all to keep you safe.”
Yibo looked through the window again, heart aching.
He remembered Zhan’s smile.
The way he held him.
The way he never said much, but made him feel everything.
And now he is bleeding in a warehouse.
Because Yibo had handed him over.
“I didn’t know…”
Yibo whispered, barely audible.
“I didn’t know. I thought—”
He swallowed hard, breath shaking.
“Zhan kept silent… and you—”
He looked at Mr. Qiao, eyes wide with disbelief.
“You knew everything all these years. And still… you hid it from me.”
His voice cracked.
“The man I trusted… the man I called father… he’s not even someone I recognize anymore.”
Tears slipped down his cheeks.
Silent and relentless.
“I don’t know who to believe. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
“Every truth I held on to feels like a lie now.”
“And I—”
He exhaled, broken.
“I don’t know who I am in all of this.”
Mr. Qiao placed a hand on Yibo’s shoulder.
“We’re leaving soon. There’s a place you need to see. You need to be there.”
Yibo shook his head.
“No… I’m not leaving Zhan-ge like this. I can’t.”
Qiao’s voice lowered.
“The damage is done Bobo, and there’s no taking it back now.”
Mr. Qiao looked back at the warehouse.
“He won’t kill him. Not yet. He’ll keep him alive.”
“Just like he’s kept you in the dark all these years.”
Yibo turned sharply, shocked.
“What do you mean… kept me in the dark?”
Mr. Qiao’s jaw tightened.
“The truth you don’t know yet, Yibo… it’s darker than you think. And Zhan’s been holding it back with everything he has. Bleeding for it. Bleeding for you.”
Yibo stared at him, agony etched into every line of his face.
Yibo nodded slowly.
Tears slipping down.
“I should’ve listened to him. He wanted to tell me something.”
He whispered.
Qiao stepped closer, his voice softer now.
“Make an excuse to your father and come with me.”
“Be normal. Be calm. Don’t raise any suspicion.”
“Because now, Zhan’s life depends on every step you take.”
Yibo closed his eyes.
Zhan’s voice echoed in his mind—
BoBo… please… don’t ever doubt my love for you…
He opened them again.
And nodded.
And as they walked away from that warehouse.
Yibo looked back one last time and swore:
I’ll get you out, Zhan-ge. No matter what it takes.
“Where are we going?”
He asked.
Mr. Qiao’s voice was soft.
“To the beginning.”
————————————————
Zhan’s head jerked up.
Blood crusted at the corner of his mouth.
One eye already swelling shut.
His breathing was shallow.
But he is still conscious.
Still tied to the chair, but he wasn’t giving in.
Wang Zheng stepped closer, his footsteps calm, hands behind his back.
“Well, well, well… Xiao Zhan.”
He said, mockingly.
“I trust you enjoyed the welcome?”
Zhan lifted his head weakly.
Blood trailing down from the corner of his lips, nose bleeding.
But his smirk still held.
“Can’t expect dignity from a man who’s never had any.”
He rasped.
“Deception suits you better, Chairman Wang!”
Wang Zheng chuckled.
“Ah. Still have a mouth, I see. Let’s see how long it lasts.”
He took another step forward.
“My son… trusts me so much. Do you know how easy it was to bend him?”
Zhan spat blood to the side, laughed hoarsely.
“Son?”
He looked up, eyes burning.
“Don’t you feel ashamed calling him that? You raised him for control, not for love.”
Wang Zheng’s jaw tightened.
“And yet, he trusts me. Still calls me father. Still follows what I say.”
Wang Zheng gave a slight nod.
Zhan looked up through swollen eyes.
“He won’t believe you forever. You raised him in your image, yes—but that Bobo still has a heart. And when he remembers what you made him forget—when he sees the monster in you—he’ll destroy you.”
Wang Zheng’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing.
“And what makes you so sure he’ll choose you, Zhan? After what he saw? After what you kept from him?”
Zhan blinked hard.
A tear slipping down through the grime and blood.
“I’m not sure…”
His voice cracked.
“But I’d rather die knowing I protected him… than live knowing I betrayed him.”
The silence that followed was brutal.
Another blow landed across Zhan’s back.
He winced, the chair groaning under the force, his body sagging to one side.
But Zhan laughed again, bitter and broken.
“You lost the right to call him your son the moment you turned him into your puppet.”
Wang Zheng crouched slightly, bringing his face level.
“Xiao Zhan. Son of Li Han and Qian Meiyu… I’ve been hunting you all these years.”
“From that day you vanished… and were never seen again.”
Zhan’s expression flickered—pain, betrayal, fear.
And then—like a crack splitting through his mind—
came the memories…
Two small, frightened eyes.
Too scared to scream.
Tiny hands wrapped around the metal bars of a window.
A house in flames.
Screams.
Smoke.
Blood.
He blinked hard, fists clenched.
His voice was low, ragged, trembling with fury.
“Don’t you dare remind me of that day.”
His eyes locked onto Wang Zheng’s—
Not pleading, not breaking.
Just burning!
“I carry it like a scar, and it never healed because of you.”
Wang Zheng’s lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile.
His eyes gleamed with something almost… cruel.
“There it is!”
He said, his voice low and almost delighted.
“That look—finally, stripped of all that calm.”
“That’s the real you, isn’t it, Zhan?”
He stared, like Zhan’s suffering was art on display.
His lips curled again into a slow, satisfied smirk.
“All grown up, still bleeding in silence.”
“But never in my wildest thoughts did I imagine it would be my son who would serve you up to me.”
His voice curled with venom, lips twitching in cruel amusement.
Zhan’s gaze hardened.
Blood smeared across his chin.
But his voice didn’t waver.
“Bobo didn’t hand me over.”
He rasped, eyes blazing through the pain.
“You twisted everything. You used him—like you always do.”
He drew a shaky breath, voice dropping to a raw whisper.
“Bobo would never betray me. Not even if it kills him.”
Zhan coughed, his body trembling.
Wang Zheng stood again, smirking.
“That’s the beauty of trust, isn’t it? Once you have it… you can twist it into anything you want.”
He turned slightly.
One of his men stepped forward.
“We raided your apartment.”
Wang Zheng said casually.
“Found enough to know exactly what you were trying to protect.”
He looked at Zhan.
“Now. Why don’t you save us both some time and start talking?”
Zhan lifted his head slowly, eyes glinting despite the pain.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“Why don’t you try… and see what I spill first—secrets or blood?”
Wang Zheng’s smile was chilling.
“With pleasure!”
He turned sharply to the guards.
“Keep him alive. But barely.”
Then he walked away.
His voice echoing behind him—
“He wants to bleed for loyalty? Then let him drown in it!”
Another blow.
The room filled with the sickening sound of impact.
Zhan’s breath hitched.
And darkness flirted with the edges of his vision.
More pain.
More silence.
And far away—
Yibo’s car turned off the highway, disappearing into the fog.
Towards a past he never knew he was part of…
[To be continued…]
The Red Ribbon 