This Isn’t Love
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]
That evening, the sun dipped early behind a thick curtain of clouds, draping the city in grey before the clock even struck seven.
The smell of impending rain crept into the streets, mingling with the distant scent of grilled skewers and exhaust fumes.
Yibo stepped off the metro with his earbuds in, Zhan’s voice from earlier still replaying softly in his mind.
As he unlocked the front door, he noticed something unusual.
Shoes by the door.
Not his mother’s. Not his.
His father’s.
He paused.
Heart hesitating in his chest like a skipped beat, then stepped inside.
Zhang Meilan was in the kitchen, her posture stiffer than usual as she stirred a pot of soup.
She glanced at him once, said nothing, then turned back to the stove.
But Yibo caught it… just for a second, in the flicker of her eyes before she looked away.
Not anger. Not coldness.
Fear.
Subtle and tightly veiled, like a storm she was trying to swallow before it broke the surface.
From the living room came the unmistakable sound of a throat being cleared.
A low, familiar timbre.
Yibo stepped into the living room, and there he was.
Wang Jinfa.
In a neatly pressed grey shirt, sleeves rolled up just past his elbows, sitting on the edge of the couch with a cup of tea in hand.
“Ba, You’re early.”
Yibo said after a pause, keeping his tone neutral.
“Yeah… things wrapped up sooner than planned.”
Wang Jinfa replied, setting his cup down.
“Thought I’d come home. See how things were going.”
Yibo nodded, standing there for a few awkward seconds before his mother called them for dinner.
It was a quiet meal.
The clink of bowls, the occasional rustle of chopsticks scraping plates.
No one talked about the tension that had cracked the family open weeks ago.
His mother served food like it was a duty, eyes never lifting from her bowl.
His father offered the occasional polite question.
How’s exams gone? how’s garage work is going?
To which Yibo gave brief, measured answers.
After the last dish was cleared and the table wiped down, Yibo excused himself, walking back to his room with the low hum of unease crawling under his skin.
He closed the door and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
The room welcomed him with its usual stillness.
His hoodie slung over the chair, the faint scent of engine oil clinging to the corners, and the dull city sounds trickling through the slightly open window.
Yibo picked up his phone from the desk, his fingers moving without hesitation.
He didn’t even have to look at the screen.
The moment Zhan picked up, Yibo leaned back in his bed and exhaled like he’d finally surfaced from underwater.
“Hey.”
He murmured, voice soft, lower than usual.
Zhan’s voice came through warm, immediate.
“Hey. You home?”
“Yeah.”
A pause. Then,
“You okay Bo?”
Yibo closed his eyes.
The sound of Zhan’s voice…
Steady, gentle, real… eased something in his chest.
“I am now.”
And for the first time that day, the tension in his shoulders started to unravel.
—————————————
Inside their bedroom, the air hummed with the quiet whir of the ceiling fan, spinning above in lazy circles.
The room smelled faintly of camphor and fabric softener, the scent soaked into the sheets and curtains after years of use.
Wang Jinfa sat on the edge of the bed, undoing the buttons of his shirt as he recounted his trip, his voice low and casual, like the words were merely filling space more than seeking response.
“Traffic near the border town was awful. Spent almost four hours just to get past one checkpost. The warehouse manager still has no idea how to log deliveries digitally, same old mess. But otherwise, trip was fine. Got it all done ahead of schedule.”
Zhang Meilan sat beside him, legs folded neatly, her hands resting on her lap.
She nodded absently, her gaze fixed on a small crack near the skirting board of the wall.
Her mind wasn’t here.
Not fully.
Then he said something that made her fingers curl tighter against her palm.
“Met an old friend on the way back. Li Zhong. You remember him? Used to work with me in Ningbo a few years back.”
She looked up, just slightly.
“Hmm?”
“He has a daughter. Her name’s Lin Qian. Final year in University College. Literature major, I think. Smart girl. Polite.”
“I liked her. Got me thinking…”
He paused, as if weighing the words in his head before dropping them gently.
“…maybe we can consider her for Bobo.”
The room went still.
For a split second, Zhang Meilan forgot to breathe.
Her heart thudded once, loud and jarring before she managed to speak.
“What?”
It came out thinner than she intended.
“You mean… marriage?”
“Not tomorrow.”
Wang Jinfa chuckled lightly, unaware of the storm beginning to stir beside him.
“I’m not throwing him into the fire just yet. I’m just saying, they can meet. Get to know each other. Have a few casual conversations. Marriage doesn’t have to be next month, of course.”
He smiled lightly, but the glint in his eyes betrayed just how much he’d already thought this through.
“But if they click, there’s no harm in moving things forward within the year, just enough time for him to start working and get serious about his future. It’s better to have someone by his side early on, keep him grounded, you know?”
Meilan blinked slowly, gathering herself.
Her throat felt dry, tongue heavy.
“But… Bobo just finished college. He hasn’t even found his footing yet. Isn’t talking about marriage within a year a bit too soon, Jinfa?”
“It’s never too soon to plan, Meilan.”
Jinfa replied, slipping his shirt off and folding it neatly.
“If we wait for everything to be perfect, nothing will ever start. And this girl, she comes from a good family, well-educated, good manners. I already spoke to Li Zhong. I told him we’ll invite them over one of these days.”
Zhang Meilan’s lips parted, but no sound came out at first.
Her mind raced.
Zhan. Yibo.
The thing she had seen but wished she hadn’t.
The secrets buried between her son’s silence and the weight he carried on his back.
She tried again.
“I still think… we should ask Bobo first. You know how he is. He’s not the type to warm up to strangers easily. And this is his life. His choice.”
Wang Jinfa gave a small scoff, not unkind but firm.
“If we ask him, he’ll say no like he always does. But how long can we let him keep drifting? He’s not a child anymore, Meilan. He has to build a life. Start a family.”
He paused, voice firm with conviction.
“This is our responsibility as parents to show him the right path, to set things in motion. Frankly, if things go well, I don’t even think we need to wait a whole year like I said earlier. What’s the point in delaying when the match is right?”
Meilan’s hands tightened over her knees.
Panic bloomed in her chest, sharp and sudden.
“I… I really don’t think it’s the right time, Jinfa.”
Her husband turned slightly toward her, eyebrows furrowed.
“Not the right time? According to whom? Meilan, he’s had enough time. This isn’t up for debate, he needs direction, not freedom. He doesn’t know what’s best for him and frankly, as long as we’re here, this isn’t his decision to make.”
Before she could answer, he reached for his phone on the nightstand.
“Enough of this waiting. I’ll speak to Li Zhong now and set something up for the weekend. No point dragging it out. They’re ready, and so are we.”
“No!”
The word escaped her louder than intended.
Her hand shot out, stopping his wrist before he could dial.
Wang Jinfa stilled.
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, like a current running beneath calm waters.
He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing.
“What is it?”
He asked, voice quiet now, but loaded.
She tried to school her expression, but failed.
“Tell me, Meilan…”
He said, voice rising.
“WHAT IS IT?!”
He said, more serious now.
“What’s going on?”
———————————————————-
The room was dimly lit, just a warm bedside lamp casting shadows along the corners.
Yibo lay on his back, phone pressed gently to his ear, his voice low and soft as he spoke to Zhan.
The calm in Zhan’s words wrapping around him like a blanket, steady and reassuring as he spoke about the chaos unfolding at home.
A rare smile tugged at the corners of Yibo’s lips.
On the other side of the line, Zhan was laughing softly.
And then—
The door slammed open so violently it bounced off the wall.
Yibo jolted upright.
The phone nearly slipped from his hand.
“Why did the door—?”
Before he could even process what was happening, Wang Jinfa stormed into the room.
Face red, jaw tight with fury.
Zhang Meilan, was right behind him, breathless, pleading.
“Jinfa, please! listen, calm down please…!”
But he didn’t listen.
With a speed Yibo couldn’t react to, Wang Jinfa’s palm struck across his son’s face.
Once. Twice.
The sound echoed like thunder in the room.
Yibo stumbled back, losing balance, crashing onto the bed.
The phone slipped from his fingers, landing on the mattress, call still connected.
“BO!”
“Hello?! Yibo?? What happened!! are you okay?! what’s going on?!”
Zhan’s voice shouted from the other side, rising with panic.
He’d heard it… something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
Yibo tried to sit up, dazed, cheek burning.
His ears were ringing.
Wang Jinfa stood looming over him, chest heaving.
“WHAT YOUR MOTHER IS TELLING ME… IS THAT TRUE??!”
Yibo blinked, vision swimming.
“Wh…what, Ba?”
He turned his head toward his mother.
Zhang Meilan stood frozen at the doorframe, hands covering her mouth, tears falling silently down her face.
“Ba, what’s going on?”
Yibo managed to say, voice trembling.
“Tell me what’s happening…”
By then, his grandmother had appeared at the door too, disturbed by the noise, her frail form peeking in with confusion.
“Jinfa, what’s going on? Why are you shouting at Bobo like that?”
Wang Jinfa’s lip curled with disgust, completely ignoring his mother’s question.
His eyes stayed locked on Yibo, sharp and unrelenting, as if nothing else in the room existed.
“Do you have some sort of mental problem?! Huh?! Is that what this is?!”
“What?!”
Yibo whispered, heart hammering.
“Ba… what are you talking about?”
The pain in his cheek spread like fire.
His face was flushed, skin throbbing.
“I’m asking you!!”
Wang Jinfa said, voice rising.
“ARE YOU DATING A BOY?!”
The question slammed into Yibo like a truck.
His stomach dropped.
He froze in place, eyes wide with shock and fear.
He turned slowly to look at his mother, pleading silently for her to say something, anything.
She only wept harder.
The phone lay on the bed untouched, but on the other end of the call, Zhan had heard it all.
His blood turned cold.
He stopped breathing for a second, heart slamming in his chest as he gripped the phone tighter, knuckles white, dread crawling up his spine.
“BOBO!!”
Wang Jinfa yelled again.
“I’M ASKING YOU SOMETHING!”
Yibo’s voice cracked.
“Ba, please… listen to me, just let me expl…”
“YOU LISTEN TO ME!!”
Jinfa shouted, stepping forward, veins pulsing in his neck.
“If this is some kind of sickness, some mental disorder, then I’ll work extra shifts, I’ll drive night and day, I’ll beg and borrow if I have to, but I’ll get you treated. I’ll FIX you.”
Yibo’s mouth parted, but no words came.
The sting of his father’s words cut deeper than any slap.
Tears welled in his eyes, unbidden.
“I’m serious, Bobo.”
Jinfa spat.
“This… this thing you’re doing, liking a man… it’s not real. It’s not normal. It’s a sickness. And you will be cured…”
His gaze was cold and voice like stone.
“You think we raised you for this? what shocks me most is that you’re not even ashamed of yourself.”
Yibo couldn’t breathe.
It felt like his lungs had closed up.
A sob trembled just behind his teeth, but he bit it down.
The tears had already started to fall.
Jinfa turned on his mother and wife, eyes blazing.
“So this is what you’ve been doing behind my back? Covering for him? Encouraging this filth under my roof?!”
Meilan stood still, lips pressed tightly together, silently weeping. Her eyes didn’t rise to meet his, not out of guilt, but because she knew speaking now would only make things worse for Yibo.
The old woman lingered at the doorway, stunned.
Her gaze flicked between her son and grandson, hand slowly lifting to her chest, as if trying to make sense of what she’d just heard.
“I’m not letting him throw his entire future away over this filth. And to make sure this nonsense ends once and for all…”
Jinfa turned sharply to Yibo, voice like a blade.
“I’ve already found a girl for you. You’re going to marry her.”
Yibo’s heart skipped a beat.
His mind emptied, the words echoing like a blow.
On the other end, Zhan sat up stiffly in bed, knuckles white around the phone, his breath catching like he’d been punched.
“No…”
Yibo whispered.
“YES! As long as you live under this roof, you’ll do what I say.”
His father snapped.
“Only marriage will fix this mess. All that confusion in your head, it’ll disappear once you become a man with a wife. You’ll see.”
“Ba, no… please, just listen—!”
Yibo broke finally, his voice raw, a sob rising in his throat.
But Jinfa wasn’t listening.
He turned to Zhang Meilan.
“From now on, he’s grounded. He doesn’t leave this house. Not for anything. Not even a meter beyond this gate. And if he does… if he disobeys me, you’ll be the one paying for it, Meilan. Not him. Understood?!”
Zhang Meilan nodded quickly, tears pouring down her face.
“I… I understand…”
Yibo stared at them, horrified.
“Ba… wh—what are you saying?”
“This is what we get? huh?!”
Jinfa roared, turning back to him.
“This is how you repay us? After everything?! After the years we slaved to educate you, to give you a future?! HUH?! This is the ‘thanks’ we get?!”
He stepped closer.
His voice dropped, cold and cruel.
“You better pray I never find that boy. Because if I do…”
His eyes darkened.
“I’ll run him over with my own truck if that’s what it takes to save you.”
Zhan’s hand clenched around the phone the moment he heard that.
His breath hitched.
“BA!”
Yibo screamed, voice breaking.
Wang Jinfa turned on him, eyes blazing.
“How dare you raise your voice at me?!”
He roared, yanked the belt from his waist, and struck Yibo hard across the side, the belt snapping against his ribs with a sickening sound.
Yibo’s body jolted, a cry ripping from his throat before he could stop it.
His knees buckled as he staggered back, one hand flying to his ribs, breath knocked clean out of him.
His eyes welled up, more from the shock than pain, he’d never been hit like this before.
“BA..! STOP!”
His grandmother’s voice pierced through the chaos, shrill and panicked.
“JINFA, NO! PUT THAT DOWN! PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM!”
Zhan flinched at the sound through the phone, eyes wide, every muscle in his body tensing.
He shot upright in bed, hand flying to cover his mouth in shock.
The phone trembled against his ear as Yibo’s scream rang through, raw and heart-wrenching.
His breath caught halfway to a gasp, body frozen, the sound on the line slicing through him like ice.
Wang Jinfa raised the belt again, ready to strike.
But before the second blow could land, Meilan rushed forward, covering Yibo with her body.
The belt cracked across her back with a brutal snap.
Meilan let out a sharp cry, the sound ripped from her throat, and her whole body jolted.
Her knees gave out beneath her as searing pain spread through her spine, tears pouring down her face.
Still, she didn’t move away from Yibo, trembling, eyes wide with pain.
“Ma!”
Yibo’s voice cracked, caught between a sob and a scream, his hands trying to steady her.
He watched helplessly as she had taken the hit for him.
“Meilan, move! Move right now! I swear, I’ll kill this abomination today!”
Jinfa yelled.
She turned slowly, shielding Yibo with her trembling body, her voice shaking but firm.
“Jinfa, stop it! Please, stop this madness. He’s our son!”
Jinfa snapped his head toward her, gripping the belt tighter, eyes cold and furious.
“Our son?!”
He spat.
“I wish he had just died in your womb rather than be born with a sickness that brings shame to this family.”
His words were like venom, his eyes burning with fury.
“He’s a curse, Meilan. We raised a disgrace. And you expect me to accept this? This filth? No. I’d rather have no son at all.”
Meilan gasped, her hand flew up to cover her mouth, eyes wide with disbelief, as tears welled up in them.
From the corner of the room, the frail voice of Yibo’s grandmother trembled through the silence.
“Jinfa… don’t say such things. He’s your child.”
But the words barely reached Jinfa.
Yibo stood frozen, lips trembling, tears spilling down his face.
Nothing had ever broken his heart like hearing those words from his father.
On the other end of the call, Zhan pressed the phone tighter to his ear, eyes shut, jaw clenched.
His throat ached from holding back the sound building inside him.
A tear slipped down, unnoticed.
He couldn’t breathe right.
Couldn’t speak.
All he could do was listen, helpless… furious at himself for not being there.
For letting Yibo face this alone.
Every part of him ached to cross the distance… to shield Yibo, to pull him away, to hold him, to tear him out of that room and never let anyone hurt him again.
Jinfa shoved Meilan aside, ignoring her cry as she stumbled back.
He stepped forward and grabbed Yibo by the collar, yanking him in close, his face twisted in rage.
“Everything you are, everything you have, it’s because of me. So, if you’re my son… you’ll live the life I built for you. Not this filth. Not this perversion. I won’t have the neighbors whispering my name like I raised a freak.”
He hissed, his breath sharp with fury.
“And remember what I said. I mean every word. If that boy is a threat to everything I built, I’ll bury him if that’s what it takes to protect you! and make sure this family isn’t dragged through the mud.”
He shoved Yibo away and stormed out of the room, throwing the belt on the floor like it disgusted him.
Zhang Meilan cast a broken glance at her son.
She wanted to go to him, to touch his face, to hold him… but she didn’t.
She followed her husband out in silence.
The grandmother, too, turned and left, her face ashen.
Yibo stood there, trembling, staring at the open door for a moment… then stepped forward and quietly closed it, the click of the latch echoing too loud in the silence.
And then he leaned his forehead against it, his shoulders shaking.
Silent tears streamed down his face, each breath trembling like it might collapse.
His body felt numb, not just from the slaps and the belt, but from everything.
But worse than the pain was the numbness itself, like his body had given up on feeling anything at all.
A minute passed.
Then he remembered the phone.
He turned back, wiped at his eyes, and crawled onto the bed with trembling limbs.
Pulling the blanket over himself, he curled in tight, as if hiding beneath the covers could make everything disappear… the pain, the shame, the world.
He picked it up with shaking fingers.
Zhan could hear Yibo’s unsteady breaths on the other end, and he knew.
Yibo had picked up the phone.
“…Bo?! Bo, are you there? Huh?”
Zhan’s voice cracked through the line, frantic and trembling, desperate just to hear him breathe.
There was a pause.
Then came a quiet sob from the other end… broken, raw, uncontained.
Zhan squeezed his eyes shut, a sharp gasp catching in his throat.
The sound cut through him like a knife.
“Please… Bo… no…”
He whispered, voice trembling, tears slipping freely now.
“Don’t cry, baobei… I’m… I’m here. Your ge is right here, please, don’t…”
He broke, barely able to breathe through it.
“You’re hurting and I can’t do a damn thing. I’m useless right now, and it’s killing me…”
Zhan’s voice cracked as he pressed the phone tighter to his ear, his free hand clutching the fabric of his T-shirt over his chest, like he was trying to hold himself together.
He wanted to say something, anything to ease the silence, to comfort Yibo, but the words wouldn’t come.
Because the truth was… even he didn’t know how to console someone who had just been broken like that.
His eyes were brimming, lips trembling.
“Bo… it’s breaking my heart. Please don’t cry…”
But Yibo couldn’t answer.
The sobs only grew heavier… no longer just quiet and desperate, but raw, fractured, spilling out of him like something he’d been holding in for far too long.
His chest felt like it was caving in.
His throat burned.
And his father’s words echoed like a curse, making him feel like nothing but a mistake.
He cried like someone unravelling… not just from sadness, but from anger, frustration, and bone-deep humiliation.
The kind of sobs that shook his shoulders, that made it hard to breathe.
He clutched the sheets beneath him, wishing he could disappear, wishing none of this was real.
And through it all, the phone stayed pressed to his ear… Zhan’s trembling voice on the other end, breaking just like his, was the only thing Yibo could cling to in that moment, the one thing he needed most.
The only thing keeping him from completely falling apart.
And the night went still… two hearts shattered, one behind a door that wouldn’t open, the other behind a screen that couldn’t reach.
[To be continued…]
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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 