When Home Calls
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]
Six years.
Seasons turned like pages in an old book.
Faces changed, routines settled, and the ache in Zhan’s chest dulled… but never disappeared.
Time had moved forward, steadily, relentlessly.
Zhan, once drowning in grief and uncertainty, had slowly rebuilt his life from the ground up.
Now, he stood tall as the Editor-in-Chief of a well-respected European literary publishing house.
The office where he once sat quietly behind a corner desk now bore his name on the glass door, etched in gold.
Xiao Zhan
Editor-in-Chief
Eva and Jonas, too, had carved their own paths to success, each now holding senior leadership roles in their respective fields.
Zhan had traded in his modest apartment for a spacious brick house tucked into a quiet street in Amsterdam.
A small garden bloomed out front, lavender and roses spilling gentle color into the air, while ivy climbed the walls as if embracing the house itself.
Beside it, a neat garage stood with his car parked inside, its polished surface catching the faint afternoon light.
The tall windows let in soft light, and the faint sound of bicycles passing by blended with the rustle of leaves.
It was quiet, a kind of peace that didn’t ask questions.
All his debts were long gone.
He had done it.
Slowly, surely… he had made a life for himself.
He kept in touch with his family, called them on holidays, sent photos, made sure they were okay.
But one thing he had never done was go back to Hangzhou.
Not once in six years.
The thought of returning to the city that held his deepest memories… both the brightest and the most painful, felt like pressing a bruise that never quite healed.
Until now.
That Sunday morning, the video call from home had felt different.
Liu Fang’s voice was trembling.
Not her usual sharpness, but soft and cracked at the edges.
“Zhan…”
She began, her breath catching.
“It’s your Ba. The doctors said… there’s… there’s nothing more they can do.”
Zhan froze, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table.
“You’ve known he was sick for so long.”
She continued, voice breaking.
“I kept asking you to come. And you didn’t. But now… at least come home once. He wants to see you.”
Her voice crumbled into a sob.
Zhan’s heart slowed.
A silence stretched across the call, heavy with unspoken things.
Then his mother whispered, her voice barely audible over the static.
“Come home, Zhan. Please. At least once… before…”
She couldn’t finish the sentence.
Her voice broke entirely as she sobbed softly.
Zhan closed his eyes.
Swallowed hard.
He let the silence hang for a beat, weighing his words before finally saying,
“…Alright Ma, I will come.”
He said.
Liu Fang nodded, wiping away her tears, relief softening her face.
After all her efforts, he had finally agreed to come.
He cleared his throat and, before she could hang up, asked Yue.
“How’s the new office, Yue? Settling in well?”
He remembered she had started as an Assistant Manager at a private firm just a few months ago, right after completing her master’s.
She spoke with quiet excitement, telling him about her colleagues and the work, and he listened, offering a few encouraging words.
And the call ended.
The room was still again, filled only with the ticking of the clock and the distant hum of a neighbor’s radio.
The grief came like a slow tide… familiar, creeping up his ribs.
And then—
Two tiny feet behind the curtain.
Zhan turned his head slowly, a smile curling gently at the corner of his lips.
“Zeyu… what are you doing there?”
He called him, soft and teasing.
From behind the cream-colored curtain peeked a small head, fluffy brown hair tousled in every direction, and two wide curious blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
The beautiful boy padded out on socked feet, his little Star Wars pajamas wrinkled, one side of the shirt tucked into the waistband and the other hanging loose, as if he had dressed himself in a hurry.
Every now and then, he tugged at the loose hem without even noticing.
In his small hands, he clutched a red toy car, rolling it along the wall as he walked, mumbling engine sounds under his breath.
His focus was absolute, the way only a child could be, lost in his own tiny world.
Zeyu was always playing with cars and bikes, fixated on wheels and speed, as if the thrill of motion was stitched into him.
Zhan watched him, a strange ache blooming in his chest.
Was it just a coincidence? Or was life playing some cruel joke on him that Zeyu’s innocent love for engines and speed reminded him so much of someone else…
Someone who had once lived in grease-stained jeans and smelled of motor oil, always surrounded by tools in a tiny garage, talking about cars, bikes, and speed… still lived vividly in Zhan’s memories.
Zeyu ran toward Zhan, clutching his car with the single-minded determination only a five-year-old could possess.
“Baba…”
He asked, climbing onto Zhan’s lap without invitation.
“Who you talking to? You gonna cry?”
Zhan smiled, resting one hand protectively around him and gently brushing aside a strand of hair that stuck to his forehead.
“We need to go home, Zeyu.”
He said quietly, almost to himself.
“Home?”
Zeyu blinked up at him, small hands pressing lightly against Zhan’s chest.
“Why are we going, Baba?”
“Your grandpa is not well.”
Zhan said gently.
“We have to go and see him.”
Zeyu nodded, a spark of excitement flickering in his eyes as he wriggled on Zhan’s lap and leaned closer.
“Baba…”
“Hmm?”
“Will… he come to meet us?”
Zhan swallowed hard.
He didn’t answer right away.
His gaze drifted past Zeyu, past the warm lamp-lit walls of their living room, to the framed photos neatly arranged… moments that now lived only in memory.
“I don’t know, baobei…”
Zeyu’s excitement dimmed, and Zhan noticed.
He pulled the boy a little closer, pressing a kiss to his head before adding softly.
“But, let’s go see Grandpa first, hmm? Your Nainai is waiting too… and you want to see your Yue Aunt, right?”
Zeyu’s face brightened again, and he nodded happily.
Within a week, Zhan had booked the tickets.
He packed quietly, efficiently.
Muscle memory from all his business trips, but his chest carried a weight heavier than anything that could fit in a suitcase.
Zeyu kept asking questions, bouncing around the room with his tiny backpack, a stuffed lion toy peeking out from the zipper.
Then he came to Zhan, clutching his favorite stuffed bunny.
“Baba, see… my bunny and lion aren’t fitting in my bag.”
He said in the plaintive tone only a five-year-old could manage.
“Please help them.”
Zhan smiled, patted his head, and took the lion from the backpack and the bunny from his hands, tucking them carefully into his own bag side by side.
“Now they’re together. Happy?”
Zeyu giggled, nodding as he clapped his little hands in delight.
He was excited.
But Zhan?
Zhan moved like someone bracing for impact.
The day they left, the skies over Amsterdam were grey, drizzling lightly.
Zhan had called Eva and Jonas earlier, letting them know he’d be going home for a while.
They came to the airport to see Zhan and Zeyu off.
Jonas scooped Zeyu up effortlessly, holding him in his arms as the little boy clutched the chocolates Eva had given him.
Zhan chuckled, shaking his head with a fond smile.
“Eva, you’re spoiling him. I’m trying to limit him to one chocolate a day, you know.”
Eva laughed.
“Just one? He deserves a little extra for the trip.”
Zeyu wiggled happily in Jonas’s arms.
“I’ll save one for Grandpa, one for Nainai, and one for Yue Aunt, I promise, Baba.”
Zhan’s eyes softened as he watched his son’s excitement.
“Alright… just this once.”
He said, ruffling Zeyu’s hair.
As Zhan reminded them it was time to board, Zeyu planted a quick kiss on Eva’s cheek and Jonas’s, saying.
“Bye, Eva Aunt! Bye, Jonas Uncle!”
“We’re gonna miss you, sweetheart. Come back soon.”
Eva smiled, ruffling his hair.
“And don’t forget to eat your chocolates!”
Jonas added with a wink.
He put Zeyu down slowly, and Zeyu held tightly onto Zhan’s fingers as they made their way toward the gate, his little feet skipping with excitement.
As the plane took off, Zhan pressed his hand against the cold window, watching the clouds swallow the earth beneath.
He didn’t know why he felt this way… or maybe he did.
Because going back meant standing where he last saw… him.
Because no matter how many years passed, some names stayed unspoken… and some hearts never truly let go.
He held Zeyu’s tiny hand in his, shifting slightly so the boy’s head could rest more comfortably against his arm as he slept.
Outside, the low hum of the plane filled the quiet, and Zhan breathed in.
Hangzhou waited… and so did his past.
——————————————
The sky over Hangzhou was heavy with the soft gray of early spring, the air crisp with the scent of wet earth and blooming osmanthus trees.
Zhan stepped out of the taxi, a duffle bag over one shoulder and a sleepy Zeyu held securely against his chest.
The driver popped the trunk and came around to help, pulling out the suitcases and lining them up neatly on the sidewalk.
It had been six years, but the street in front of his family home still looked the same… narrow, lined with uneven stone, the houses standing like old friends weathered by time.
The front door swung open before he even knocked.
“Ge!”
Yue squealed.
She didn’t stop until she wrapped her arms around Zhan and then quickly pulled Zeyu from his arms with practiced ease.
“And this must be my favorite nephew!”
Zeyu blinked sleepily, then giggled as Yue spun him in a half-circle and kissed his cheek.
The little boy didn’t flinch or shy away, he leaned into her touch like they’d known each other forever.
Yue hugged him tight, laughing as Zeyu wrapped his small arms around her neck and babbled something excitedly.
Inside, Liu Fang was already tearing up, her hands trembling as she reached for her son.
She didn’t say anything right away… she just held his face in her hands, as if memorizing every line and shadow.
“You finally came, Zhan… God, you look thinner.”
She whispered, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone.
Zhan smiled faintly.
“I’m fine, Ma. Just tired.”
He met his father too, in the quiet of a dim bedroom where Xiao Guoqiang lay on the bed, the air faintly scented with medicine and camphor oil.
Xiao Guoqiang looked older than Zhan remembered… smaller, his skin pale and paper-thin.
But his eyes, the moment they landed on Zhan, filled with tears that spilled without resistance.
“You came…”
His father rasped, trying to sit up.
Zhan moved quickly and pressed a hand gently to his shoulder.
“Don’t. Just rest, Ba.”
The older man nodded, his lips trembling.
“You brought your son too…”
Zhan swallowed hard.
“Yes, Ba… Zeyu is also with me.”
In the following days, the house slowly filled with warmth again.
Zeyu was very comfortable… thanks to years of video calls that easily bonded him with everyone.
He followed Yue around on her old scooter, holding on tightly as she showed him parks and street markets.
Liu Fang spoiled him with hand-cooked meals, from dumplings shaped like rabbits to sweet red bean buns he couldn’t stop eating.
Zeyu could be heard running through the hallways in his socked feet, clutching his favorite toys, laughter echoing off the walls.
At night, after Zhan’s usual bedtime stories, he would curl up against him in his bed, small fingers wrapped around both his small stuffed bunny and lion, drifting to sleep with his head resting on Zhan’s chest.
Zhan, however, remained different.
He was polite.
He smiled.
But something about him had changed and Liu Fang noticed.
Her son no longer laughed with ease.
He didn’t speak with the same bright enthusiasm anymore.
His old boyish innocence had faded; the light-hearted grin she once knew so well was now rare, replaced by a more serious expression.
Even his smiles felt measured, as if weighed before being given, and that heartfelt, unrestrained laugh was gone entirely.
His black-rimmed glasses seemed permanently fixed now, and he always looked tired.
His words carried a careful tone, his approach steady and deliberate, nothing like the carefree boy she remembered.
Somewhere, that thought pricked her like a thorn, sharp and lingering.
Now his attention was always on Zeyu.
Hovering protectively, eyes following him with quiet devotion.
Even in between, he made time for work calls and meetings, laptop open on the table while Zeyu played nearby, his focus always split but never straying too far from his son.
One night, after dinner, Zhan paced slowly through the living room, cradling Zeyu, now fast asleep with his red toy car still clenched in his small fist.
His breathing was even, soft puffs against Zhan’s shoulder.
Zhan patted his back gently in a steady rhythm, his eyes glazed with thought.
Liu Fang sat on the couch, watching him for a long moment before speaking.
“It must’ve been hard… taking care of him all alone?”
Zhan looked down, then slowly smiled.
“Not really, Ma. It was hard in the beginning, yes. He was just three when I adopted him.”
He adjusted Zeyu in his arms, brushing his fingers through the boy’s messy hair.
“Joans and Eva helped me with everything. The paperwork, the interviews… the nerves. You know how many times I used to call you back then, asking about everything… from what food to give him to how to get him to sleep.”
Liu Fang chuckled softly, though her eyes shimmered with something deeper.
“But luckily, Eva found me a nanny, Auntie Lin. She was a blessing. Taught him Mandarin lullabies and how to hold chopsticks. Since then, she’s been there to help with him when I’m tied up with work, though it’s mostly me. Zeyu likes her a lot too.”
Zhan’s lips curved into a small, proud smile, his eyes softening at the thought of his son.
“And once I settled in… it wasn’t that hard anymore. Zeyu and I just became this little team, inseparable. He’s my whole world now, Ma. I live for him.”
Liu Fang looked at her son, her throat tight.
“We didn’t stop you when you said you wanted to adopt a child.”
She began gently.
“But don’t you think… maybe the boy needs a mother’s presence too and—”
Zhan cut her off, not harshly, but firmly.
“Ma. Please, don’t.”
His voice didn’t rise, but there was a finality in it that silenced the room.
“You know everything already. Still, you’re asking me this?”
He sat beside her, still cradling Zeyu, now murmuring softly in his sleep.
“I can take care of him alone. I’ve been doing it for years. And he’s happy, isn’t he? That’s all that matters.”
Liu Fang didn’t argue.
Instead, she reached out and brushed Zeyu’s cheek.
The child shifted but didn’t wake.
After a long pause, she spoke again, her voice carrying a trace of hesitation.
“Zhan, your Ba… he wants to talk to you. That’s why I asked you to come home.”
Zhan glanced at her, frowning faintly.
“About what, Ma?”
Liu Fang didn’t answer immediately.
She simply looked at him, her gaze unreadable… soft and heavy with a knowing sadness.
“…Ma?”
She looked away, her voice barely a whisper.
“You’ll know when he tells you.”
Zhan nodded, and for a moment, the quiet between them felt heavier than words.
[To be continued…]
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Author’s Note:
Heyyy, you made it to the end of the chapter! 😊
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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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