After Everything
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]
The heavy weight of recent weeks finally lifting… if only just enough to breathe.
The morning was hazy when Wang Jinfa prepared to leave for his next out-of-state delivery.
His duffel bag slumped against the front steps, worn and faded like the rest of him.
Before stepping into the truck, he turned to Zhang Meilan with a sharp gaze and muttered low, but firm.
“Keep him in line. Don’t run off to your supermarket job until I get back. Stay home, keep an eye on him, and I want to know everything.”
His eyes narrowed, a hard glint in them as his voice dropped lower.
“If I hear you gave him any freedom, you’ll regret it! remember that.”
She didn’t argue.
She only nodded, lips pressed into a thin line, because what else could she do?
Before leaving, Jinfa called Yibo aside.
His voice was gruff, lined with that familiar hostility.
“I don’t want to hear a single complaint when I’m gone. You stay home. You behave.”
Yibo didn’t respond.
Just looked past him, silent and stone-faced.
But as the truck finally rumbled down the road and disappeared into the distance, Yibo exhaled… long, slow, like surfacing from deep underwater.
The shackles had loosened.
For a few days at least, he was free.
————————————–
Yibo wasted no time.
That very afternoon, the sharp, metallic creak of the garage shutters echoed through the lane as he pulled them up.
Sure, Zhan was his love, but so was this garage in its own rough, greasy way.
And it had been weeks since he’d even laid a hand on it.
Dust motes swirled in the sunlight.
He wiped down his tools with practiced hands, the scent of engine oil and metal beginning to feel like home again.
He resumed his delivery rounds too.
Nothing big, just a few orders for familiar clients who were glad to see him back.
Yibo rode through the quiet lanes, breeze in his hair, engine thrumming beneath him.
Every second felt like something he hadn’t had in a long time… freedom.
And for once, the weight in his chest didn’t feel like it was crushing him.
That night, he called Zhan and told him his father had left.
Zhan sounded relieved, too, and mentioned he was busy handling the moving papers for both of them with the immigration people.
He told Yibo not to share anything about it with anyone for now, and Yibo agreed without hesitation.
Next day morning, Nainai found him leaving early to garage, a lunchbox in one hand and helmet in the other.
“Off to the garage already?”
She smiled, eyes soft with relief.
“That’s good, ah. It’s nice to see you out and breathing again.”
He smiled at her, just a little, and nodded.
From the kitchen, Meilan watched them.
She didn’t smile, but a quiet relief settled in her chest.
At least he didn’t look like some caged animal anymore.
Even if it was temporary, even if it carried a lot of risk for her, she was willing to take it, for now.
——————————————
On the other side of the commute, in Deqing, Zhan’s days were fuller now.
Between shifts at the bookstore and closing his freelance projects, he was deeply involved in the final paperwork for his job in the Netherlands.
He also handled Yibo’s short-term visa process through the same agency, gathering documents, making calls, checking and rechecking the details.
It wasn’t easy, but he didn’t mind the effort.
Every form filled was a step closer to freedom for both of them.
They hadn’t been able to meet every day, not with Wang Jinfa calling home almost hourly like a paranoid guard dog.
Yibo’s movements were still monitored.
Zhang Meilan would pick up the phone with a fake cheer.
“He’s here, just helping me in the kitchen.”
While Yibo quietly fixed a tire in the garage.
Zhan, worried but focused, had told him during one late-night call:
“Just bear it for now, Bo. Stay low. We’ll be out of here soon. Don’t poke the beast when we’re so close to the door.”
Yibo only replied, soft and steady.
“I know, ge. I’m counting the days too.”
———————————————-
On a crisp Thursday morning, with the sunlight glinting off his glasses, Zhan folded his final confirmation letter and sent a message to Yibo:
Bo, the migration agency asked me to attend a pre-departure orientation in Shanghai. It’s compulsory for first-time migrants. I need to leave tomorrow morning, but before that, I have to go to the consultancy for some paperwork for you.
He hesitated a second before hitting send.
A second later, Yibo replied:
Okay. Travel safe, ge. Call me when you reach.
Zhan smiled.
It was just two days.
But even two days felt like a long time when your heart already belonged to someone back home.
——————————————-
The first day in Shanghai had passed with ease.
After finishing his orientation, Zhan found a quiet spot in his hotel room, curled up on the edge of the bed, and video-called Yibo.
His voice was bright, animated, recounting every little detail from the formalities at the migration center to the overpriced noodles he had for lunch.
Yibo had smiled, sleepy-eyed but attentive, propped up on his elbow on his bed.
“Sounds like you’re finally getting closer.”
He’d said with that soft pride that always melted something in Zhan’s chest.
“We are getting closer, Bo.”
Zhan told him, and somehow, that made the night stretch longer in the best way.
They kept talking, smiling, laughing a little, until at some point, they drifted off to sleep with the call still connected.
The next day, Zhan didn’t get the chance to talk to Yibo during the day, and he thought of calling him at night once he got back to the hotel.
But on the second day night, the call was different.
Yibo picked up briefly, voice hushed and distracted.
“Nainai fainted again this morning.”
He said.
“We’re at the hospital. I’ll talk to you once you get back, ge.”
Zhan’s worry surged, but he nodded, trying to keep his voice even.
“Alright. Take care of her. And of yourself.”
The call ended, and something about the silence afterward pressed heavy against Zhan’s chest.
Next day, late into the evening, Zhan finally returned home.
The air in Hangzhou was thick and humid, clinging to his skin like memory.
After his shower, he had dinner with his parents, and then they asked him about the orientation.
He gave them brief answers about his two days away, then, once dinner was done, he shut himself in his room.
He couldn’t help wondering why Yibo hadn’t even messaged to check if he was back.
“Maybe he’d missed it.”
He thought, especially if Yibo was caught up with his grandmother not feeling well.
So, he called him.
Yibo answered after a few rings.
“You back?”
Yibo asked.
“Yeah.”
Zhan said, his voice warm.
“Got home a few hours ago. How’s Nainai?”
“She’s better now. They’re keeping her overnight, just in case.”
“That’s good… You sound tired, Bo.”
“I am.”
A pause.
“Can we meet tomorrow, ge?”
Zhan straightened.
“Of course. Tell me the time.”
“Evening. Our usual spot. At the lake.”
“Okay.”
Zhan smiled.
“I’ve missed you, Bo…”
But Yibo only hummed, low and unreadable, before ending the call.
It left Zhan feeling a little off as it wasn’t like Yibo.
———————————–
The next day, just before 5 PM, Zhan heard the soft thrum of an engine outside his bookstore.
He looked up from the register and saw Yibo’s bike pulling into the curb.
He came in without much expression, helmet tucked under his arm, hair slightly mussed.
Zhan smiled at him, bright and open, but Yibo’s answering smile barely reached his eyes, more habit than warmth.
Zhan could tell something was off immediately, but didn’t push.
They drove in silence.
The breeze from the windows tangled Yibo’s dark hair, but he didn’t adjust it.
Zhan couldn’t see his face, but he could feel it… something was off.
Yibo’s back was too rigid, his body too distant.
And even in the rush of wind, that silence was loud.
Yibo didn’t say a word, eyes fixed ahead.
At the lake, the water shimmered under the evening sun, casting gold streaks across the calm surface.
Cicadas buzzed somewhere in the trees.
Their usual spot, an old bench under a maple tree was empty, waiting.
They walked there quietly.
Sat down.
Yibo leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring out at the lake.
His face unreadable.
Zhan sat beside him, unsure how to start, but then said softly.
“Bo… I think your short-term visa will be ready in a few days. Once we get there, accommodation won’t be a problem. My company’s giving me a place to stay.”
He glanced sideways at Yibo for a second, searching for a reaction.
“Mmm, we just have to find you a job, but with your degree, your grades… we’ll figure that out quickly. Once you’re working, we can—”
“I’m not coming with you.”
Zhan froze mid-sentence.
He turned to Yibo sharply.
“What?”
Yibo’s gaze stayed fixed on the lake.
“I said, I’m not coming with you. I don’t want to.”
Zhan blinked, his heart thudding painfully.
“Bo… What are you saying?”
“I’ve thought about it.”
Yibo said, voice flat.
“At that time, I got carried away with my emotions. But I’m clear now.”
Zhan felt his throat tighten, like the air was too thick to breathe.
“Carried away?”
He echoed.
“You were the one who said you’d come. That we’d go together.”
Yibo exhaled.
Still not looking at him.
“Ge, I was the top of my college. I can get a job anywhere. I don’t need to follow you abroad like some… lost puppy.”
Zhan’s face twisted in disbelief.
“What the hell are you talking about, Bo? This was never about you needing me. We were going to escape this place, together! You know what staying here means for you!”
Yibo finally looked at him, and it was like a stranger wore his face.
“And what if I want to stay? What if I don’t want to come with you?”
He asked, cold and calm.
“What if I’ve made peace with this life?”
Zhan stared at him, chest heaving.
“You’re lying, Bo.”
“I’m not.”
Yibo said quietly.
“It’ll be better for both of us if you just go.”
Zhan’s mouth parted, but no words came.
His hands were trembling.
He searched Yibo’s face, desperate for a crack in the mask… for any sign that this was just fear talking, or pain, or pressure.
But Yibo’s eyes were unreadable.
And the lake shimmered behind them, indifferent to the storm now breaking between two hearts that had once beat as one.
————————————-
The silence after Yibo’s words stretched like a taut string between them.
“Yibo, if this is some kind of joke… stop. It’s not funny anymore.”
Zhan said, voice tight.
Yibo’s eyes didn’t flinch.
“Do you really think this is something to joke about?”
Zhan blinked, as if the lake breeze had just slapped him awake.
“Are you out of your mind, Bo?”
He said, voice rising, shaky with disbelief.
“Where is this even coming from?”
Yibo’s eyes didn’t waver from the lake.
His voice was calm, too calm.
“I’m finally thinking straight, ge. This is the first time things have ever made sense to me.”
He said.
“And I’m saying what I should’ve said earlier.”
Zhan stared at him, breath catching.
It wasn’t just the words, it was… how Yibo was saying them.
Distant. Disconnected. Detached.
“I know, what my Ba said and did wasn’t right.”
Yibo continued.
“But… it’s his way of dealing with things. And at his age, I can’t expect him to suddenly understand that what we have isn’t a phase or a disease. I can’t keep fighting him forever.”
Zhan opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“You know, ge… I’ve never really seen my parents together for more than a few days at a time.”
Yibo said, eyes still on the water.
“They’ve both worked their whole lives just to give me and Nainai a decent life. My Ba… he’s missed everything. New Years, birthdays, school events. He’s never asked me for anything, never told me how to live.”
A faint, bitter smile crossed Yibo’s face.
“This is the first time he said ‘no’ to something I wanted. The first time he really asked me to stop.”
Zhan’s chest tightened.
“And I can’t just throw all that away, just because I’m in love with you.”
The words sliced through Zhan like ice.
He flinched.
“So what? What are you even trying to say right now, Bo?”
He finally spoke, the pause between them stretching too long.
“That you’re choosing them over me?”
His voice cracked.
“What the hell happened in just two or three days that made you suddenly bring all this up?”
Yibo didn’t speak.
Zhan swallowed hard, then asked.
Quietly. Painfully.
“Then what about me, Bo? Where do I fall on your priority list?”
Yibo turned to look at him, and for a moment, Zhan hoped…
Hoped, he’d see something.
A flicker.
An apology.
But Yibo’s eyes were empty.
Distant.
“You’ll be fine, ge.”
He said, softly.
“Once you settle down there, you’ll have a new life. You’ll move on.”
He paused, jaw tightening just slightly, like the next words tasted bitter.
“And if not me… then someone els—”
“SHUT UP, BO!”
Zhan suddenly shouted, standing up.
His voice cracked in anguish.
“Just… shut up!”
Yibo blinked, startled.
“I can’t believe it’s you talking, Bo, I… I really can’t.”
Zhan’s eyes were already tearing up.
“I never thought this is how you see me. That my love’s just… something easily replaceable. That I’m just a phase… and nothing else.”
“I didn’t mean it like that—”
Yibo tried.
Zhan cut him off.
“Don’t! Don’t feed me this breakup script.”
His voice cracked, eyes burning.
“If this was your way of ending things, you could’ve just said it. You didn’t need to dress it up like some thoughtful goodbye. Don’t try wrap it in this ‘you’ll be fine’ bullshit!”
Yibo sighed, still not meeting his gaze.
“Zhan-ge… sometimes, love is not enough. It’s not. There’s more to life than just feelings. Responsibilities, family, stability. I have to think long-term. I need to be practical and realistic.”
Zhan stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief, his voice cracking under the weight of what he was hearing.
“So… you brought me here just… just to… end us? This is how you do it?”
His face twisted… part hurt, part confusion.
“So while I was away thinking about us, you were busy deciding we’re over?”
He laughed, low and humorless, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying out loud.
“Just two days without me, and suddenly I’m not worth the fight anymore, Bo?”
Yibo looked away.
“It’s not easy for me either, ge.”
Zhan grabbed his wrist, pulled him around, forcing Yibo to face him.
“Look at me! Say it to my face, Bo. Tell me you really mean what you’re saying! Tell me this doesn’t hurt. That walking away is easy. That I don’t matter anymore. That everything we had… meant nothing to you.”
Yibo’s face didn’t change.
His eyes were flat. Tired.
Zhan felt like he was looking at someone with no soul left.
Yibo’s gaze was dead, unflinching, as he looked straight into Zhan’s eyes.
“Not every story gets a happy ending, ge.”
He said.
“And ours? ours never stood a chance. You know that.”
Zhan stared, heart pounding.
Rain clouds beginning to gather above them.
“What about the promises we made, Bo? Is that all just easy to forget?”
Yibo’s voice was calm, almost detached.
“Not all promises are meant to be kept. Some… are made to be broken.”
He let out a hollow breath.
“And loving you cost me more than I can afford, ge.”
His eyes dropped.
“Now I think… if I’d never met you, maybe life would’ve been easier.”
Zhan froze.
The words hit like a punch in the chest.
His grip on Yibo’s wrist loosened, fingers falling away like they’d forgotten how to hold on, and he let go of his hand.
He barely managed a whisper, voice trembling.
“Bo… how… how could you say that?”
His eyes searched Yibo’s face, desperate.
“After everything…?”
He couldn’t believe the person standing in front of him was the same man who once said he couldn’t breathe without him…
The same man who used to look at him like he was everything…
The same man who once swore he’d never let go…
His throat burned.
He couldn’t even breathe.
With a heavy sigh, Yibo stood up, his hands shoving deep into his jacket pockets.
His expression remained calm… too calm, like none of this was shaking him the way it was breaking Zhan.
As if none of it mattered anymore.
“It was never bad, being with you, ge.”
He said, voice quieter now.
“It was… beautiful. But we don’t have a future here. Not in this place. Not in this society. I’ve made peace with it. And now I want to build a future… for me, for my family. They’ve always given me everything. Now I want to give something back.”
There was a pause, then Yibo said quietly.
“And as long as you’re there, I won’t be able to do it.”
Zhan closed his eyes.
The tears that had been gathering finally spilled over, warm against his chilled cheek.
“So, move on… Zhan-ge.”
Yibo said, his back already turning.
“And let me do the same. It’s the only way.”
He turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder, his voice softer now.
“I don’t want to say goodbye… but maybe you should take this as one.”
Zhan didn’t answer.
He just sat there, frozen… as Yibo walked away without looking back.
Zhan didn’t dare turn around… he couldn’t.
Because if he did, he’d have to face the truth that Yibo was actually leaving.
Not when the sound of fading footsteps already felt like goodbye.
The sky cracked open, and rain began to fall… soft at first, then steady, then punishing.
Like cold needles against Zhan’s skin.
He didn’t move.
He couldn’t.
The lake blurred behind a sheet of rain.
The wind whipped through the trees.
But he sat there… unmoving, drenched, and stunned.
He shut his eyes as the raindrops poured over him, wishing desperately that this was just a nightmare, and that he’d be alright once he opened them.
But when his eyes fluttered open, he was still there… still alone.
His tears slipped freely, mingling with the raindrops on his cheeks.
And all Zhan could do was sit in the downpour, his heart breaking quietly… like something fragile unraveling in his chest.
Slowly, his lips parted in a trembling whisper only the rain could hear.
“Please, Bo… don’t leave me like this… please…”
But the silence stayed loyal to Yibo’s absence.
Yibo was already long gone.
Too far to hear it.
Too far to come back.
[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! ✨
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