You Came Back
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]
A week had passed.
Slow, silent, and heavy.
It was nearly midnight.
The air was thick with silence, broken only by the soft crunch of gravel beneath Yibo’s sneakers.
The streets of Linping lay empty, bathed in the pale-yellow hue of flickering streetlamps.
The warmth of the day had long faded, leaving behind a lingering chill that wrapped around his tired frame.
He’d just closed the garage a few minutes ago and was now heading home, the scent of oil still clinging to him.
These days, garage work was the only thing that kept his thoughts from circling back to the same damn name.
Zhan.
Every night was the same.
Replay. Rewind. Regret.
But tonight, something was different.
As he turned the familiar corner toward his apartment, he saw a figure standing on the pavement beneath the glow of a streetlight.
Still.
Head slightly bowed.
Shoulders hunched, clothes slightly rumpled, hair messy.
His face was pale, lips pressed in a tight line, eyes ringed dark with exhaustion… like he hadn’t slept.
Yibo’s steps slowed.
He didn’t need to squint to know who it was.
Zhan.
The air seemed to still.
Zhan looked up.
And the moment his gaze met Yibo’s, something in him crumbled.
His shoulders sagged.
His chin trembled.
He blinked once, struggling to hold back the tears clouding his vision.
His fists clenched at his sides, and his breath hitched.
“Yibo…”
It barely left his throat.
For a beat, Yibo simply stood there, heart pounding as if trying to catch up with time.
His first reaction was disbelief, then a sharp sting of memory surged through him.
The last time he saw Zhan…
The bookstore.
Zhan, holding Su Mian.
Their eyes locked like they belonged there… like he never did.
Yibo’s jaw clenched.
His expression hardened.
Without a word, he dropped his gaze and kept walking, brushing past Zhan like a stranger.
But then—
A hand reached out, trembling, desperate, and grabbed Yibo’s wrist.
“Yibo… please, don’t go. If you walk away now, I… I don’t think I’ll survive it.”
The voice was cracked.
Like something broken inside was finally trying to speak.
Yibo froze.
His back still turned to Zhan.
But his breath hitched, just slightly.
And then—
A quiet sob.
Yibo turned around instinctively.
And before he could react further, Zhan stumbled forward and threw his arms around him, pulling Yibo into a tight, trembling hug.
Zhan buried his face in Yibo’s shoulder and broke.
He sobbed like a child, like something in him had finally collapsed.
His body shook violently against Yibo’s chest.
Yibo froze for a heartbeat, stunned.
The sudden weight of Zhan’s tears against his chest knocked the breath out of him, like something inside him cracked open without warning.
His arms hovered for a second… then they folded around Zhan.
Fierce. Tight. Protective.
In that moment, everything he’d been holding against Zhan, the anger… the hurt… the bitterness from that day in the bookstore… just vanished.
It slipped from his chest the second Zhan trembled in his arms.
Yibo whispered.
“Zhan-ge… what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?”
Yibo asked, sharper now.
His voice low, guarded, but ready to shield.
Zhan didn’t answer right away.
His tears were soaking into Yibo’s hoodie, his breath coming out in gasps, ragged and painful.
“I… I don’t know…”
Zhan stammered, his voice muffled against Yibo.
“I didn’t… I didn’t do anything, or maybe I did… I think I did something terribly wrong. I don’t remember. I swear I don’t…”
Yibo’s chest tightened.
Even though he didn’t know why Zhan was crying his heart out in his arms, the way he clung to him, trembling and stammering… made Yibo tighten his hold.
As if to say: you’re safe here, even if I don’t understand yet.
Zhan was speaking in broken pieces, his thoughts spilling out in no order, panic rising with every word.
“I didn’t drink like that… I don’t… I never would… but I woke up and… I don’t know how it happened… I wouldn’t… I couldn’t have…”
He couldn’t say it.
The words stuck in his throat.
“I’m scared….”
He finally choked out, sobbing again.
“I’m so scared, Yibo…”
Yibo didn’t understand… not fully.
But the terror in Zhan’s voice was enough.
He gently eased Zhan back just a little, holding his arms firmly.
“Zhan-ge… shh… hey… hey, look at me.”
Yibo said softly but firmly.
Then, as Zhan hiccuped softly, Yibo lifted one hand, hesitating for half a second… then touched his cheek, light as air.
With the pad of his thumb, he gently wiped away the tears trailing down.
“Breathe.”
He said softly.
“Just breathe, okay?”
Zhan’s eyes were bloodshot, lashes wet, face pale under the cold lamp glow.
He was falling apart.
“It’s okay.”
Yibo said again, his voice steadier now as he locked eyes with him.
“Whatever it is… we’ll figure it out. You’re not alone, you hear me?”
Zhan nodded through the tears, but the fear didn’t leave his eyes.
And that terrified Yibo more than anything.
———————————————————–
They sat on a quiet park bench beneath a bare, old tree.
The world around them had gone still… just the occasional rustle of dry leaves in the midnight breeze, the distant hum of passing cars.
The yellow streetlamp flickered nearby, casting broken shadows across the pavement.
Zhan sat hunched over, elbows on his knees, staring down at the gravel beneath his shoes like it might swallow him whole.
He was still struggling to catch his breath, like his lungs hadn’t yet caught up with the storm he’d just let out.
Yibo sat beside him, hands resting tensely on his lap, glancing sideways at Zhan now and then… but not saying a word.
The silence stretched too long.
It was heavy.
Dense.
Almost painful.
And then Zhan’s voice cracked through it.
“Yibo… I… I think I’ve done something wrong.”
He said it quietly, barely a whisper.
Yibo turned to him without hesitation, his voice soft… steady.
“You can tell me, ge… whatever it is, I’m here.”
Zhan didn’t answer.
Instead, he slowly pulled his backpack onto his lap, unzipped the main pocket, and took out a single white envelope.
His hand trembled slightly as he handed it over.
Yibo accepted it without a word, his gaze flickering between Zhan’s face and the envelope.
He opened it, unfolded the paper inside and the first few lines made his heart nearly stop.
The diagnosis.
Pregnancy confirmed.
Patient Name: Ms. Su Mian
Test Conducted: Urine hCG (Pregnancy Test)
Result: POSITIVE
Remarks: Suggestive of early pregnancy. Clinical correlation advised.
He blinked, confused, then turned to Zhan sharply, eyes wide.
“What is this…?”
His voice was low, tight.
“Su Mian… is pregnant?”
Zhan didn’t answer.
His fingers were clenched so tightly around the backpack in his lap that his knuckles had gone white, almost bone-pale under the streetlight.
Yibo looked at the report again, frowning.
“Why are you carrying this, ge? Why do you have her report?”
Zhan’s voice was barely audible, heavy with hesitation.
“Did you read the last line?”
Yibo looked back at the paper, flipping it quickly.
His eyes caught the handwriting at the bottom in pen, faint but clear.
Zhan. The baby, it’s yours.
Yibo stared.
Read it again.
Then again.
A flash of something unspoken crossed his mind.
Something in his eyes shifted.
The softness was gone, replaced by fire.
Yibo’s jaw clenched.
His eyes darkened with fury, not at Zhan, but at the name printed coldly in that report – Su Mian.
He looked away for a beat, teeth grinding silently, the muscle in his cheek twitching.
His fingers curled into fists in his lap, knuckles white.
He slowly turned his head toward Zhan.
“Zhan-ge…”
He said carefully, each word deliberate.
“I just need you to tell me one thing.”
He paused.
“Are you absolutely sure… it’s yours?”
Zhan finally looked up.
Their eyes met.
He shook his head slowly.
“I don’t remember anything like that. I swear. It all started after that party… It’s just… blank. I didn’t drink that much. I know how I am. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t have.”
His voice broke, and he looked down again.
“And yet… I feel like I did something terrible. But I didn’t choose it. I didn’t agree to it. I don’t know what happened. But now she’s asking me to marry her… to protect everyone’s image.”
Yibo’s face tightened.
He kept his eyes on Zhan, steady and unblinking.
“Tell me what happened that night.”
Zhan let out a hollow breath, staring at his own hands like even remembering it made his chest tighten.
Like he didn’t want to go back there at all.
“That night… I only had one drink. The one she brought for everyone. After that, everything just…”
He hesitated, voice thin.
“…went blank. My head was spinning, everything was blurry… and then I woke up in her bed.”
He swallowed hard.
“She was sitting on the couch… her clothes torn, crying, and…”
Zhan’s voice trailed off, his gaze fixed on the ground.
Yibo leaned forward slightly, voice low but steady.
“And what, ge?”
Zhan hesitated, breath trembling.
“She… had a cut on her lip…”
He finally said, almost in a whisper.
“She told me I did it. And there were nail marks… on my hands.”
His hands clenched in his lap, as if the memory itself hurt to hold.
“She said I…”
Zhan swallowed hard, like the next words physically hurt to say.
“…that I forced myself on her. Because I was drunk.”
Tears welled up in his eyes again, his voice cracking under the weight of it.
The shame bled through every word.
Yibo sat still, eyes fixed on Zhan.
His brows drew together, the muscle in his jaw tightening.
His fingers slowly curled into fists, knuckles whitening… but he said nothing.
Not yet
He stayed quiet, choosing to listen, to be there.
Letting Zhan speak.
Letting him fall apart without fear.
Zhan blinked rapidly, jaw trembling.
His voice was barely holding together, but he kept going.
“But I don’t remember anything, Yibo. Nothing. I swear, not a second of it.”
His breath hitched at the last word, the frustration and helplessness twisting in his throat like a knot he couldn’t undo.
“And when she said those words… I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know what to think… or what to believe. I still don’t.”
He shook his head, eyes wide and unfocused.
“I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t even look at myself. Since that night, everything’s been a mess. My head’s a wreck. I can’t sleep. Can’t think.”
“I’m stuck there… Still stuck. Her words… over and over. It just won’t stop.”
Zhan finally looked at Yibo, guilt and confusion dark in his eyes.
“I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but I swear… I don’t know what really happened.”
He rubbed his hands over his face, frustration and disbelief bleeding into his voice.
“And now, seeing her every single day… it’s unbearable. Especially after she said she’s pregnant with my child. I feel trapped, like I’m being forced to carry something I don’t even remember choosing.”
Yibo listened in silence.
His jaw clenched tighter as the pieces fell together.
When Zhan finally stopped talking, Yibo let out a long, quiet breath.
“You should’ve told me earlier.”
Yibo said.
His voice was calm, but firm.
“How many times I asked you to talk to me, ge…? and every time, you shut me out.”
Zhan’s shoulders sank.
“I was ashamed… I didn’t know how to face you. I felt like I betrayed you. I thought… maybe you’d hate me.”
There was a pause.
Then Yibo turned fully to him, his voice low, firm, unwavering.
“So, after all this time, you still don’t understand me, huh?”
Zhan looked up slowly, eyes red, confused.
“You really think I’d leave you for this, ge? That I’d just… walk away?”
Yibo asked.
“Zhan-ge, if you have a problem, I want to be the person you talk to. Not the one you run from. Do you think everything we have is that shallow?”
Zhan’s throat worked around a tight breath.
“So… you’re not angry at me?”
His voice was small, unsure.
Yibo blinked, confused.
“Angry? For what?”
Zhan glanced down, gesturing faintly at the paper still clutched between Yibo’s fingers.
The report.
Yibo followed his eyes, then held the paper up for a second.
“This?”
He said, almost scoffing.
“You think I’d believe a piece of paper and a woman’s statement over you?”
His gaze snapped back to Zhan.
“No. I know you, Zhan-ge. And nothing in this makes me question that.”
Zhan couldn’t speak.
His throat burned.
His chest ached.
Then something shifted in his eyes.
“Since she got this report… she keeps asking me to marry her.”
He said quietly.
“I’m so tired of hearing it, Yibo.”
He paused, his voice tight.
“And that day… there was almost another mess. Something worse. I barely managed to stop it.”
Yibo frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Zhan exhaled slowly, like he hated even thinking about it.
“In the shop, she lost her balance that day. Nearly fell. I caught her just in time.”
He shook his head.
“And in that moment… all I could think about was if she had hit the floor, if she got hurt, then that would’ve been the next thing I’d be blamed for.”
A beat of silence.
“You don’t know how disgusted I felt touching her like that… but I did it. Just to keep myself from being dragged into another disaster.”
Yibo looked at him, eyes wide.
So, what he had seen that day… wasn’t the full truth.
And now he knew.
Guilt churned inside him, and relief.
Before Yibo could say anything more, he turned to Zhan and asked softly.
“Did you eat anything?”
Zhan gave a small shake of his head.
“No.”
Yibo sighed, a long, quiet breath through his nose.
“Come on. Let’s get something.”
Zhan looked at him, surprised by the sudden change in tone, not pity, not pressure.
Just… calm care.
Yibo caught the look and gave him a small smile, almost like saying I got you, without the words.
—————————————–
They walked a few blocks in silence, the streets mostly quiet at this hour.
A nearby late-night diner was still open – small, with dim yellow lights and a few scattered tables.
They slid into a booth by the window.
Yibo placed the order.
Hot noodles and fried dumplings for both of them.
He knew Zhan wouldn’t say what he wanted anyway.
While they waited, Yibo’s phone buzzed.
He stepped aside to answer.
“Yeah, Ma. I’m fine. I’ll be late, don’t wait up.”
He ended the call quickly and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
When the food arrived, the steam curled up from the bowls, carrying the faint warmth of ginger and soy.
Zhan sat quietly, picking at the noodles, barely finishing a few bites.
He hadn’t even touched the dumplings.
Yibo watched him for a moment, then said gently.
“Ge… eat.”
Zhan looked up at him, just for a second, then back at the bowl.
Yibo leaned forward a little, voice even softer now.
“What is it, ge?”
Zhan set the chopsticks down, fingers curling loosely around the bowl.
His voice was low, unsteady.
“I… I’m sorry, Yibo. For what I said to you that day. For avoiding you like that. I didn’t mean to shut you out, I just…”
But before he could finish, Yibo shook his head slowly.
“Ge, it’s okay.”
His voice held no blame, just quiet hurt.
“I understand. I’m just… a little sad you didn’t trust me with it. I would’ve listened. I wanted to… if you’d let me. Instead of pushing me away.”
Zhan didn’t reply.
Just sat there, his chest tight with guilt he couldn’t name.
Yibo gave a small nod toward the bowl.
“For now, forget all that. Just eat, alright? Everything else… we’ll handle it. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere until we find out the truth.”
Zhan stared at him for a moment.
The food. The warmth. The silence.
The fact that Yibo was still here.
Still steady.
They finished dinner without saying much else.
After paying, Yibo walked with Zhan toward the metro station.
The streets had grown even quieter, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement.
They stood on the platform, waiting for the next train.
A low mechanical hum filled the space, the distant clatter of rails in the background.
Yibo’s eyes drifted down for a moment.
Zhan was clutching the long sleeves of Yibo’s hoodie tightly, fingers twisted in the fabric without even realizing it.
A silent, subconscious grip… like someone trying to anchor themselves through sheer panic.
Yibo said nothing.
He didn’t move.
But he stood steady, close… because he understood just how much all of this had shaken Zhan… how deeply terrified he was.
Zhan turned to Yibo, eyes darker now under the station lights.
“Yibo…”
He said, voice barely audible.
“I’m scared.”
Yibo looked at him.
Didn’t speak. Just waited.
Zhan’s next words came out slow.
“What if… what if I actually did something wrong?”
Then Yibo’s tone sharpened with certainty.
“Ge… I can guarantee you, nothing happened that night.”
“Not when you know your limits. Not when you’ve always been careful. You wouldn’t lose control like that, not over just one drink.”
He hesitated.
“Especially not with her. Not when I knew you could never want her that way. And when I knew what we.…”
And Yibo suddenly stopped.
His jaw clenched.
He looked away for a brief second, fighting the words that almost slipped out.
Zhan blinked at him in shock, startled, sensing something behind those unfinished words.
Yibo exhaled slowly, then looked up, straight into Zhan’s eyes.
His voice was quieter now — steady, but still tight with emotion.
“I believe you, ge. I always have.”
His tone grew heavier.
“And I know you… more than you know yourself. I trust you. And I also know Su Mian’s type too. I never thought she’d take it this far.”
“This isn’t your fault. And this baby… whatever it is… it’s not yours.”
“We’ll prove it. You don’t need to carry this alone anymore. And you sure as hell don’t need to marry anyone because of a lie.”
“And you definitely don’t need to destroy yourself over something you didn’t do.”
His voice tightened.
Eyes locked on Zhan — unwavering.
“And… I don’t want to see those tears again. Not for this. Not when you did nothing to deserve this guilt.”
“You’re punishing yourself for something that’s not your fault, ge. And I can’t watch you keep doing that.”
Something loosened in Zhan’s chest then.
His breath trembled as he exhaled.
For the first time in months, he felt a sliver of warmth break through the cold haze around him.
Maybe it was Yibo’s voice.
Maybe it was his blind trust… in Zhan, in his character… even when Zhan couldn’t trust himself.
Maybe it was the way he said “we” so naturally.
But for the first time, Zhan didn’t feel lost.
He felt like someone had found him again.
And Yibo, watching the flicker of life return to Zhan’s eyes, made a quiet promise to himself…
He would destroy whatever game Su Mian is playing.
He would tear her lies apart, one by one.
And make her answer for every single tear that had fallen from Zhan’s eyes.
Every ounce of pain she’d carved into him.
————————————————————
The week dragged on like a slow, unraveling storm.
While the world moved outside, Yibo was no longer part of it.
Every breath between thoughts, was dedicated to peeling back the layers of Su Mian’s carefully constructed lie.
He wasn’t alone.
The night he finally confided in Chen and Lele, his two closest friends — was short but electric.
The moment they realized Zhan was at the center of the turmoil, both leapt in like it was their own fight.
Chen said simply, voice low with loyalty.
“Whatever this is, we’re with you to save Zhan-ge.”
Lele added with a wry grin.
“Time to do what we do best — dig dirt.”
And they did.
Through hushed calls, late-night bike rides, and shady tea stalls tucked into Deqing’s underbelly, the trio began pulling threads.
Chen, with his smooth tongue and a cousin who worked in the cafe where this event was held, managed to get access to the security footage archives.
Lele tapped into his sister’s friend at the district hospital, where Su Mian supposedly got her pregnancy report.
Meanwhile, Yibo took a quiet visit to the outskirts of the city where his friend Hao ran a cluttered, cigarette-scented mobile repair shop.
Yibo stepped into the dim, cluttered shop, the air thick with solder and smoke.
Hao looked up from behind the counter, a half-dismantled phone in his hands.
“You need something fixed, Bobo?”
Yibo slid his phone across the table.
“Yeah, I lost something on my phone. I need to see if I can recover it.”
Hao frowned, curious.
“From this? What kind of—?”
“I’ll do it myself.”
Yibo cut in, voice flat.
“Just give me access to your system. Tools. That’s all.”
Hao blinked, then shrugged.
“Sure. Help yourself.”
Yibo nodded once, already pulling a stool toward the workstation.
No explanations. No details.
————————————————
Back in Deqing, Zhan carried on.
But each day felt heavier.
The bookstore, once his sanctuary of dusty poetry and quiet laughter… now echoed with something he couldn’t shake.
Su Mian.
She arrived every morning, pale-faced and moving slower each day, hand often resting on her belly as if cradling her lie like a prize.
Her eyes followed him constantly, flickers of possessive warmth in her gaze.
It suffocated him
“You should take a few days off.”
Zhan finally said one morning, voice tight as he re-shelved a stack of children’s books with trembling fingers.
She blinked at him.
“Why?”
He said, avoiding her eyes.
“Just, take some days off.”
His voice was edged with irritation.
“But I feel better being here.”
She smiled, soft and sweet.
“With you.”
Zhan clenched his jaw.
“Your comfort is not my priority right now. I need space. And if you ever cared how I felt… instead of always chasing what makes you feel better… you wouldn’t be here.”
She tilted her head, hurt flickering across her face, but didn’t respond.
The next day, she still showed up.
He started dreading the chime of the front door.
————————————-
In between reshelving books and biting back nausea, Zhan would step out to the back alley and call Yibo.
The calls were short, whispers hidden behind the clatter of crates or soft wind rustling old banners above the doorway.
“She’s not leaving.”
Zhan murmured one afternoon.
“She’s always there. Watching. I can’t breathe, Yibo.”
Yibo’s voice on the other end was the only tether he had.
Steady. Calm. Iron.
“Just hold on. Don’t let her get into your head.”
Zhan exhaled.
“You sound confident. Did you find something?”
“Almost. Give me two more days, ge. Then we end this.”
Zhan didn’t answer right away.
He leaned back against the wall, phone still pressed to his ear.
He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose.
“Two days…”
He repeated it like a promise.
His voice came out softer this time.
“Please don’t let me down, Yibo.”
It wasn’t a warning.
It was the sound of someone running out of ground beneath them.
“I won’t.”
Yibo’s voice was firm, no room for doubt.
“I’ve got you, ge. Just hold on.”
And in that moment, Zhan felt like a sliver of light had finally pierced the darkness he’d been trapped in.
And at the end of that tunnel, it was Yibo standing there… like he’d always been his light.
[To be continued…]
——————————————–
Author’s Note:
Heyyy, you made it to the end of the chapter! 😄
Hope you enjoyed it — and if you did, please don’t forget to like & comment on my Insta post. 💖
Think of it as your way of telling me, “Hey, I’m here, and I loved it!” — it means the world to me and truly keeps me inspired to write more for you! ✨
The Red Ribbon 