Nothing Left Here
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]
Zhan didn’t remember how he got home.
The streets were a blur.
The cold rain soaked through every layer, but he didn’t feel it.
All he could hear again and again was Yibo’s voice.
“If I’d never met you, maybe life would’ve been easier.”
“You’ll move on.”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough.”
Each word echoed in his head like thunder… loud, sharp, impossible to ignore.
When he reached the door of his house, Liu Fang opened it just as he stumbled in.
Her eyes widened in alarm.
“Zhan?! What is this?”
She rushed forward, snatching a towel off the rack and trying to dry his dripping hair.
“Why are you drenched? Didn’t you take your umbrella? Are you out of your—”
But Zhan didn’t even look at her.
He walked past, silent and pale.
His shoes left muddy prints across the floor.
Liu Fang stared after him, confused and stunned.
Xiao Guoqiang stepped out from the kitchen, brows furrowed.
They looked at each other, saying nothing… just a shared silence heavy with worry.
Zhan’s door shut with a quiet click.
He dropped his bag like it didn’t exist and slid down with his back against the door, pulling his knees to his chest.
The moment he buried his face into his arms, it all came crashing down.
“Bo…”
A silent sob choked out of him.
He hugged himself tighter, as if that could stop the sharp, invisible blades cutting through his chest.
Everything hurt.
His bones.
His heart.
His breath.
—————————————-
The clock ticked past midnight.
The house was quiet.
But Zhan’s eyes refused to close.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
The fan above spun in lazy circles, but his mind was in chaos.
He kept checking his phone.
No missed calls.
No messages.
He hesitated.
Stared at the screen.
Then finally, his thumb moved and he hit call.
One ring. Two. Three.
No answer.
Zhan blinked hard, trying not to cry again.
He called again.
This time, after a few rings, Yibo picked up.
His voice was calm.
Almost too calm.
“Ge… I think we already said everything we needed to say.”
Zhan’s throat clenched.
His voice cracked the second he spoke.
“Bo… if there’s something, anything… please just tell me. If I did something wrong, if I made you upset somehow… tell me, I’ll fix it. But don’t just… don’t end it like this. Like I meant nothing to you.”
Silence.
“Is it something your father told you? Did he threaten you? Then please, please don’t listen to him, Bo.”
Again, silence.
Zhan could feel his chest tightening.
“You really think it’s that easy, Bo? For you? To walk away like that? Was everything just… replaceable?”
Yibo exhaled softly on the other end.
“It’s not about easy or hard. It’s about what’s right.”
“And we are the problem, ge. So, walking away… that’s the only way to fix it. Or maybe it’s not the only way… but it’s the only one that hurts less in the long run.”
There was a pause. A breath.
“Sometimes love means knowing when to end it, ge.”
He added, voice lower now.
“And letting go… it’s the only way we stop hurting each other.”
Zhan shook his head, not realizing his tears were already spilling again.
His voice cracked, ragged from the force of holding back sobs that refused to stay buried.
His hand trembled around the phone, knuckles white, like he could physically hold the connection together if he just gripped hard enough.
“No… No, I don’t accept this. I can’t. You’re not like this. You’re not… someone who throws us away like we were nothing. Don’t act like this doesn’t kill you too, Bo.”
His chest rose and fell too fast, eyes red, blurred with tears that refused to stop.
“You don’t give up like this. You fight, Bo… that’s who you are! So why are you doing this to me now? You’re not—”
Yibo cut in, voice flat.
“You’re right. I wasn’t like this. But now I am. Because I have to be.”
Zhan whispered, heart breaking all over again.
“Bo… please—”
His words broke off, choked by a sob he couldn’t swallow this time.
“I love my family, ge.”
Yibo said, firm now.
“And I can’t ignore what they feel. Not for this. Not even for you.”
There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter — but sharp, final.
“You don’t outweigh them, ge. You’re not worth losing my family over. Please… just know that.”
Zhan’s heart shattered in one clean break.
He didn’t move, didn’t breathe.
His voice came out in a whisper, barely there, more breath than sound.
“I… don’t worth…?”
The words tasted like ash.
He wasn’t even sure if Yibo heard them, but they hung heavy in the space between them — a quiet, broken question that would never really get an answer.
“So what was I, then… Yibo?”
He whispered.
“A mistake?”
“No.”
Yibo replied softly.
“You were… one of the best parts of my life.”
Then why are you ending it…? – Zhan wanted to scream.
But his lips wouldn’t move.
Yibo kept going.
“But we never had a future, ge. You know that. Not in this place. Not in this world. It was only ever a matter of time.”
His voice didn’t waver.
“We were a mistake. Dragging it out won’t make it any less pathetic.”
Zhan wiped his face with the back of his hand, but it didn’t help.
“Please, am begging you… please… don’t do this, Bo. Don’t let this be our ending… just… don’t leave me like this. Don’t pretend like I didn’t matter.”
His chest heaving, tears slipping down his face one after another.
His voice cracked with each word, like he was trying to hold something shattered together.
“We can have a life together, Bo. We had so many dreams… so many promises, remember? We can just go far away from all this, from everyone. Just think about it. Please…”
He choked back a sob, his shoulders shaking now.
“I… I won’t be able to… I can’t…”
His voice dropped to a whisper, barely more than breath.
“I can’t live a life without you, Bo… you are my life. And I love you so much… please understand…”
But Yibo had already decided.
His voice lowered again, calm but distant, like a stranger.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s already over — you just didn’t want to see it.”
He paused, then added — quieter, sharper.
“It’s better if you stop calling or messaging me. I don’t want this anymore. Not you, not us. Just let it go.”
Zhan froze.
His heart stopped.
For a moment he forgot how to breathe.
The boy who once used to hold his hand so tightly in the dark…
The one who would whisper,
“I’m not gonna leave you, ge. I’m here, no matter what…”
Now telling him he didn’t want him anymore, completely ignoring how much his words hurt Zhan.
He felt something inside him break quietly.
Yibo’s voice, barely audible over the static.
“I need to sleep now. I’m hanging up.”
“Bo, wait—”
Zhan started, but the line went silent.
Just like that.
The silence after the call felt like a punch.
Zhan sat there, the phone still pressed against his ear, his fingers trembling.
His brows pulled tight, lips parted.
Just a breath, then silence.
A silence heavy with disbelief, like the ground had been pulled out from under him and he was still mid-fall.
He looked up at the ceiling, eyes shimmering, throat working around a grief too big for words.
The sound of rain outside deepened.
Louder now.
It hit the windows, the rooftop, the world.
Zhan curled up on the bed, but it didn’t matter.
He was already drowning… and not from the rain.
It was like half his soul had been carved out and thrown away.
And the boy who once made him believe in love… just walked out of his life like it was nothing.
And Zhan?
He lay still in the dark, rain crying for him outside the window because he couldn’t stop crying himself.
—————————————
It had been almost a week since that night.
Yibo hadn’t reached out.
But Zhan did — almost every day.
Calls. Messages. Late-night voice notes.
But there was never a response.
Just silence.
Zhan didn’t sleep properly for days, waking up in the middle of the night with his hand still clutching the phone, hoping it would buzz.
But it never did.
Yibo was really gone, and Zhan could feel it in his bones now… like something inside him had quietly shut down.
At first, he considered cancelling the opportunity abroad.
He stared at the offer letter on his desk for hours, hands trembling, heart aching.
But slowly, something hollow whispered from within… maybe leaving would help.
Maybe the distance would dull the ache.
Maybe going away would be the only way to survive it.
He stopped going to the bookstore.
He couldn’t.
He didn’t dare step into the place where every corner held his most beautiful memories with Yibo.
Where everything still smelled like quiet afternoons, soft laughter, and hands that once held him like he mattered.
The door stayed locked.
Dust began to gather on the glass.
Just like everything else they left behind.
When his father asked, he just mumbled.
“No one’s there to take care of it anymore… Maybe it’s time to sell, Ba.”
Xiao Guoqiang didn’t argue.
He just nodded and quietly began the process.
Zhan was too numb to care.
Yue dropped by one day, nervously standing in Zhan’s room, fiddling with the sleeves of her hoodie.
“Zhan-ge… Is it about Bo-ge?”
Zhan glanced up from the half-packed suitcase on his bed, gave her a tired smile.
“It’s nothing… Yue.”
“But—”
“Yue…”
He said softly.
“it’s okay… let’s not talk about it, please.”
And that was the end of it.
———————————————————-
Within another week, all the formalities were completed.
Visa. Tickets. Closure notices.
The day of departure arrived, gray and overcast — like the sky, too, wasn’t ready to let him go.
It was late evening and Hangzhou Airport buzzed with life, people moving all around, checking bags, hugging loved ones, laughing, crying.
Zhan stood in the middle of it, trying to breathe normally while something in his chest felt like it was being squeezed.
His suitcases stood beside him.
His family stood in front of him.
Liu Fang was already crying, trying to press a container of homemade snacks into his hands.
“You’ll eat these on the flight, okay? Don’t skip meals. Don’t drink too much cold water. It’s a new country, Zhan… take care of yourself, baobei…”
Zhan pulled her into a hug, holding her tight.
“Ma… I’ll be okay, I promise. Don’t cry like this, people will think I’m leaving forever.”
“You are going forever!”
She sobbed against his shoulder.
“At least it feels like that!”
He laughed through the ache in his throat, gently rubbing her back.
“I’ll call you every day. I’ll video call. You’ll get tired of seeing my face.”
Yue wiped her own tears and sulked.
“You’re going to make new friends and forget all about me, aren’t you?”
Zhan turned to her with a soft grin, ruffling her hair.
“Yue, even if I forget my own name, I won’t forget your noisy face.”
She gave a weak punch to his arm.
“Stupid Zhan-ge!”
Zhan chuckled lightly, then pulled her into a tight hug.
“Be good, okay? Study well, and don’t drive Ma crazy.”
Yue clung to him, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
“I’m gonna miss you so much, ge…”
He swallowed the lump rising in his throat, resting his chin lightly on her head.
“I’ll miss you too, my girl. More than you think.”
Xiao Guoqiang stood quietly behind them, hands folded.
His eyes weren’t wet, but the sorrow on his face was unmistakable.
He reached out and placed a firm hand on Zhan’s shoulder.
“Be strong over there.”
He said.
“Do well. That’s all we want.”
Zhan nodded, lips pressed tight, and then looked down for a moment before murmuring.
“Thank you, Ba… for everything.”
Xiao Guoqiang didn’t say anything.
He swallowed hard, then just nodded.
“Take care, Zhan.”
As the final boarding call echoed through the airport speakers, Zhan picked up his bags.
But his eyes kept scanning the crowd… once, twice, again.
That tiny flicker of hopeless hope still searching… searching for a tall frame, dark hair, that familiar presence.
But Yibo never came.
Of course he didn’t.
Still, Zhan’s eyes lingered even as he walked through security.
The plane was dimly lit, the windows reflecting city lights one last time.
As it took off, Zhan stared out of the small glass pane, watching Hangzhou disappear beneath the clouds.
The moment the wheels lifted off the ground, a single tear slipped down his cheek.
He didn’t bother wiping it.
A new city awaited him.
New life.
New people.
But in his heart, Zhan didn’t feel like he was starting anything.
He just felt like he was leaving everything behind.
And the worst part?
He wasn’t even sure how much of himself he’d managed to take with him.
————————————
It was past midnight in Linping.
The rain outside hadn’t stopped, tapping against the windows in a slow, endless rhythm.
In the quiet room, Yibo’s phone buzzed on the nightstand.
A hand reached out, fingers trembling as they turned it over and unlocked it.
One message.
From Yue.
Ge, left in tonight’s fight.
The words blurred almost instantly.
Two warm tear drops slid down, splashing onto the glowing screen… and then the screen went black.
Outside, the rain whispered against the roof.
Down the hall, Wang Jinfa slept soundly as returned from his delivery trip a few days ago, his snores faint in the stillness.
Beside him, Meilan lay awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Sleep wouldn’t come.
Something gnawed at her, pulling her from the bed.
She slipped out quietly, padded to the kitchen, and poured herself a glass of water.
That’s when she noticed it, the light under Yibo’s door.
She sighed.
It had become a regular thing over the past few days.
Lately, the lights in his room would stay on sometimes all the way until morning.
He wasn’t sleeping, and she knew exactly why.
She paused, her fingers tightening around the glass.
Then, with a quiet breath, she walked toward his room to ask him to turn off the light and get some sleep.
A gentle knock.
“Bobo?”
As expected, no answer.
She turned the handle and pushed the door open slowly.
Yibo was lying stomach-down on the bed, his head turned away.
She hesitated, stepping in.
“Bobo… please get some sleep. How long are you going to be like this?”
She walked closer, her voice softening as she reached him.
“Don’t blame yourself for what happened, okay? It’s not your fault. You should—”
Her voice broke off.
Her feet stopped moving.
Her eyes widened, breath caught mid-chest.
The glass of water in her hand crashed to the floor.
She gasped.
On the floor beneath his bed, a dark red pool was spreading, growing with every drop that fell.
Her eyes slowly followed the trail upward, to his limp left wrist, hanging over the edge of the mattress, blood still dripping from it.
“BOBO!”
Her scream tore through the house as she rushed forward, grabbing his bloodied hand and lifting it, her fingers slick with warmth.
Hearing her scream, Jinfa and Nainai burst in within seconds.
Jinfa froze in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the spreading pool of blood beneath them.
On Meilan, sitting on the bed, clutching their son’s limp hand… blood oozing from a deep gash in his left wrist, running down into her trembling hand.
Nainai let out a trembling wail, her hands flying to her mouth as tears streamed down.
Meilan’s voice broke into a desperate shout.
“Call the ambulance, Jinfa! What are you staring at?!”
It was as if her words shook him awake, he spun on his heel and ran out to grab his phone.
Meilan trembled violently, her hands pressing against Yibo’s wrist to slow the bleeding.
With shaking fingers, she tore the scarf from around her neck and wrapped it tightly around his wrist, tying it off before pressing down on it again, her voice breaking over and over.
“Bobo! Bobo… wake up! Oh god, oh god, no… no, my boy, what did you do?”
Her words tumbled out, broken and breathless, her tears falling onto his skin as she kept calling his name like a lifeline.
Her eyes darted to the floor… there, beside the bed, a razor blade lay stained and wet.
Yibo stirred faintly, eyelids fluttering.
His breath came shallow, chest rising and falling unevenly.
“Bobo… Bobo… look at me! Ma’s here, okay? Ma’s here… oh my god, why… why would you do this to yourself, my boy?”
Meilan cried, her tears dripping onto his hand.
His pale lips parted.
The words were broken, fragile.
His lips trembled as he tried to form them.
“Maa… let… let me… go. He’s never…”
His voice cracked, a sharp gasp cutting through it, chest shuddering with the effort.
“…never gonna forgive me… for wh…what I did to him…”
“No! No, Bobo… oh my God…”
Her voice splintered, panic clawing up her throat, hands tightening desperately around his.
His breathing hitched, shallow and uneven.
His eyelids fluttered, fighting to stay open.
“He… left… Ma. I… don’t wanna… live… live any… more… I hur…hurt him… let… let me… go…”
“No… No, Bobo, no… it wasn’t you. How many times have I told you… Oh God!”
She shook her head fiercely, her sobs shaking her whole body.
She turned toward the door.
“Jinfa! Did you call the ambulance?!”
“It’s on the way!”
Came his panic muffled reply from the hall.
She looked back down at her son, her grip tightening on his hand as if she could anchor him here.
“Baobei… help is coming. Don’t you worry, okay? I’m not letting you go… No… Never… I can’t, Bobo… I… can’t.”
Her voice wavered, and then a raw, broken cry tore out of her… one that seemed to split her chest open.
It was the sound of a mother’s heart shattering, of pain too deep to hide anymore.
But his eyes were already closing.
The faint wail of an ambulance siren grew louder, weaving through the rain-soaked streets until it was just outside, lights flashing against the walls.
Yibo’s eyelids fluttered weakly, his face pale, lips trembling with each shallow breath.
His gaze drifted unfocused, but tears welled and slid down toward the pillow.
“Tell him… I’m… am sorry… so sorry… he was begging… to me… and I… I hurt him… even more…”
His fingers twitched weakly in Meilan’s grasp as he looked at her.
“I lost him… it hurts… too… much, Ma…”
His breath hitched, shallow and broken.
“I… I can’t take… this anymore…”
His voice cracked completely now, just fragments of sound slipping through.
“It’s easier… if I… die…”
Meilan let out a broken sob as she pulled his hand to her forehead, clutching it tightly like she could anchor him back with just her touch.
“No… no, Bobo… it’s not you. It was never you…”
She shook her head over and over, tears streaming freely now, her voice trembling as she whispered again and again.
“You didn’t do it because you wanted to. You were… just… just helpless. That’s all.”
Her voice faltered, barely above a whisper now.
“This… this isn’t on you, baobei…”
Yibo’s gaze unfocused, but then… it softened.
He wasn’t looking at Meilan anymore, he was somewhere else.
In his mind, Zhan was there, looking at him the way he always did, eyes warm and full of quiet devotion.
He could almost feel those gentle arms pulling him close, the soft brush of a kiss against his temple, the way Zhan’s gaze always searched for him, like he was the only one that mattered.
He smiled, tears still slipping from his eyes.
The ambulance screeched to a stop outside, its siren cutting through the rain.
And before the darkness swallowed him completely, his lips moved one last time.
“… Zhan… ge…love…yo—”
His hand slipped from hers, limp and unmoving.
—————————————
Zhan jolted awake, heart thudding, as if someone had just called his name.
He blinked, looking around.
The cabin was dim, most passengers slumped in sleep.
He straightened in his seat, rubbing his face.
Reaching for the water bottle on the tray, he took a few long sips, but the strange ache in his chest didn’t ease.
It sat there… heavy, unshakable.
Turning to the window, he stared into the darkness outside.
Somewhere far below, the world was sleeping under a blanket of clouds.
He let out a slow sigh and leaned back, eyes fixed on nothing.
Sleep never came again.
——————————————-
And like that, the night grew colder.
One man heading toward a new life, yet still chained to the thought of the person he loves the most…
And another, lying pale in a hospital bed, fighting to hold on… haunted by the crushing guilt that the man he loves may never forgive him.
[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 