Tangled Hearts: Chapter 4

The River Side

[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]

The morning light crept through the kitchen window as Zhan finished tying his shoes.

Liu Fang, as always, was already busy, moving around the kitchen with her usual energy.

She set his lunchbox on the dining table, followed by a thermos filled with hot tea.

A small tin of cookies was placed beside them, the sweet scent of freshly baked treats making Zhan’s stomach growl a little.

“You’ve got everything?”

Liu Fang’s voice was gentle but insistent as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and eyed him with that familiar motherly gaze.

Zhan smiled and nodded, picking up his lunchbox bag.

“Yes, Ma’am!”

His mom gave him one last once-over before going to the coat rack by the door.

She retrieved the raincoat from the side chair, folding it neatly and handing it to him.

“Don’t forget to return this to your new friend.”

She said with a knowing smile.

“And say thank you properly—for the raincoat and those noodles.”

Zhan took it with a grateful nod, then paused as she turned back toward the hallway.

A moment later, she returned with a compact umbrella and slipped it into the side pocket of his bag.

“This one’s for you. Just in case it pours again—don’t be borrowing jackets from strangers every other day.”

She teased, though her voice was warm.

“Honestly, keep this in your bag always. That guy seems more mature than you—he carries two raincoats. You don’t even remember one.”

Zhan rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay Ma. Point taken.”

Zhan grinned.

“Did you pack everything Ma?”

He asked, feeling the familiar morning routine settle around him.

“All set.”

She replied, her voice light.

“Again I’m telling you, don’t forget to thank that boy for last night…. I’d say he’s looking out for you.”

Zhan smiled at the thought, remembering how Yibo had shown up at the bookstore, unexpected but somehow exactly what he needed.

“I will, Ma. Don’t worry.”

His mother nodded, giving him a gentle smile.

Zhan grabbed the cash from his bag and handed it over to Xiao Guoqiang, who was reading the newspaper in the living room.

“Ba, here’s the money for Yue’s fees. Add this to what you borrowed from your colleague, and make sure it reaches her today. It’s the last day, right?”

His father looked up, nodding as he took the cash.

“Got it, Zhan. I’ll take care of it.”

With everything packed and in order, Zhan gave his parents one last wave before heading out the door.

————————————————

The brisk morning air greeted him as he stepped outside, the sky overcast with clouds that threatened rain, though it hadn’t started yet.

Zhan walked quickly, the routine of his commute familiar and comforting.

He made his way to the metro station, his mind still a bit on the conversation with his parents, but mostly on Yibo.

The 7:45 train wasn’t packed, and Zhan settled into his usual spot.

He sat with his book, reading through the pages, occasionally glancing around to see if Yibo would show up.

But when the train reached Linping, there was no sign of him.

Zhan frowned slightly, but it wasn’t unusual.

Yibo might have gotten on in a different compartment, or maybe he had been running late.

As the train rattled on, Zhan let his thoughts wander back to the night before.

It felt odd to think of Yibo as his “new friend,” but that’s what he was.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him feel so comfortable so quickly.

Deqing arrived, and Zhan stood up to disembark.

He scanned the platform as he stepped off the train, expecting to see Yibo, but there was no sign of him.

Maybe he had taken a different route this morning.

Shrugging it off, Zhan walked down the familiar streets of Deqing, heading toward the bookstore.

It was still early, and the city was just beginning to wake up.

As he walked, he couldn’t shake a slight feeling of disappointment.

Maybe it was silly.

After all, they hadn’t even exchanged numbers.

But for some reason, Zhan couldn’t help but feel a little let down not to see Yibo.

He finally reached the bookstore and he quickly got to work, setting up for the day.

But with a part of his mind still wandering to the young delivery man and the brief connection they’d shared.

——————————————–

It was a cloudy afternoon, the kind where the air felt heavy with the promise of rain.

Zhan had just crouched down, about to open the delivery box he’d received a few minutes earlier.

Then the bookstore door swung open with a sharp jingle of the bell.

He looked up from his desk.

Eyebrows furrowed as the usual rush of customers had turned into a quiet lull.

He wasn’t expecting anyone.

Then, he saw the person standing in front of him.

A tall man, wearing a sharp suit and sunglasses that didn’t quite match the gloomy weather.

His arms were crossed, his lips twisted into a scowl.

“I’m here for the book I ordered. It’s been weeks!”

He barked, glaring at Zhan, as if the delay was a personal offense.

“What kind of business are you running here?”

Zhan blinked, surprised by the man’s tone.

“I’m sorry for the delay. There was an issue with the publisher, but your order has arrived just a few minutes ago. I can get it for you right now.”

The man huffed, clearly impatient.

“I don’t care about your excuses. You should’ve let me know. I shouldn’t have to chase after you for a simple order.”

He took a step forward, leaning on the counter, eyes narrowing.

“What kind of service is this? You’re just sitting here, doing nothing while people wait for what they’ve paid for.”

Zhan felt his throat tighten.

He had dealt with difficult customers before, but this one was crossing the line.

The man barked, slamming the book on the counter.

“No wonder this place is always empty. Maybe spend less time decorating the shelves and more on actually running a business.”

Zhan’s mouth opened slightly, shocked, a flush creeping up his neck.

“You just sit here, smiling like some useless pretty boy behind a counter. Do you even know how to run a proper store?”

Zhan felt his temper rising, embarrassment prickling behind his eyes.

Just as he gathered the nerve to speak, the bell above the door jingled again.

And in walked Wang Yibo.

He wasn’t expecting to see Zhan like this.

Zhan, equally caught off guard, froze for a second — a flicker of surprise crossing his face before a wave of embarrassment crept in.

As soon as he stepped inside, he saw the tense scene—the irate customer and the air thick with confrontation.

Without hesitation, Yibo walked forward, standing just beside Zhan.

His voice was calm but firm, cutting through the tension.

“Is there a problem?”

Yibo asked, his presence steady and unflinching.

The man turned, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“Who are you?”

Yibo tilted his head slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips—but there was no mistaking the warning beneath.

“Keep talking like that and you’ll find out who I am.”

His eyes were sharp—unblinking, steady.

“I think you’ve said enough. If you’re not happy with the service, you can ask for a refund and walk away—politely. The door is right there.”

As the man sneered, his anger still palpable, Zhan took a step forward, trying to smooth things over.

“Yibo, it’s okay, let’s talk and sort this out.”

He said, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

But Yibo didn’t take his eyes off that man.

He raised his hand slightly towards Zhan, a quiet gesture to stop him from saying more.

There was a calm confidence in Yibo’s stance.

His voice steady when he spoke.

The man shouted at Yibo.

“Who do you think you are? This is none of your business.”

Yibo didn’t budge.

“It is… now.”

He replied coolly.

“You can either calm down or I can get the authorities involved. Your choice.”

The man faltered, the edge of his anger seeming to dull for a second.

Zhan watched, still processing the unexpected support, as the confrontation slowly fizzled.

He opened the newly received delivery box, pulled out the book the man had ordered, and placed it on the counter.

“The delay wasn’t intentional, sir.”

Zhan said quietly.

The man glanced at Yibo, who met his gaze with a hard look that clearly said –

Try raising your voice at him one more time and see what happens!

With a huff, the man snatched the book from the counter, muttering something under his breath before turning and storming out.

The door slammed behind him.

For a long moment, there was silence.

Zhan blinked, looking over at Yibo, who gave him a subtle smile.

“Are you alright?”

Zhan, still slightly stunned, nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Yibo gave a casual shrug.

“No problem. Just didn’t like the way he was talking to you.”

Yibo scratched the back of his neck.

“I was actually waiting outside for that guy to leave so I could come in… but I could hear him yelling all the way from the street, so I figured I’d better step in.”

He smiled, a little sheepish.

Zhan nodded.

Still trying to shake off the tension.

But Yibo’s next words caught him off guard.

“You’re a softie, aren’t you?”

Yibo teased, a smile playing at his lips.

“All art guys are like that.”

Zhan raised an eyebrow.

A little unsure where this was going.

Yibo’s grin widened.

“How are you gonna run a business with a soft nature? You need to handle idiots like that one day in and day out.”

Zhan didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he smiled gratefully.

The corner of his mouth lifting in quiet amusement.

“I hardly get customers like him.”

He said after a moment.

“Most people who walk into my store are kind… happy with the service, always smiling. So I never really felt like having a soft heart was a problem for running a business.”

Zhan smiled softly.

But something deeper lingered in his chest.

He had always prided himself on handling things himself, but this…

This felt different.

It felt safe.

Yibo cleared his throat gently, breaking the silence.

“I actually came for my raincoat.”

Zhan blinked, a little caught off guard.

“Yeah—wait a minute, I’ll get it.”

He slipped into the little back room of the bookstore.

The raincoat lay neatly folded on his work table, completely dry.

He brought it out and handed it to Yibo with both hands.

“Thanks.”

Yibo said, slinging it over his arm casually.

“Not a big deal.”

“But going forward… if you can’t handle such people, just call me.”

Zhan raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Call you? I don’t even have your number.”

Yibo smirked, pulling out his phone.

“Well, let’s fix that.”

They unlocked their phones, each saving the other’s number.

Zhan glanced at Yibo’s screen as the younger man typed: Zhan-ge.

“Zhan-ge?!”

He read aloud, chuckling.

“Didn’t think I’d earn the Ge-status already.”

“You did just now.”

Yibo said simply, glancing at him with a small smile.

Zhan smiled too and saved Yibo’s contact as: Bo-Di

Before handing his phone back into his pocket.

“There. Now it’s official.”

Yibo pocketed his phone, then looked at Zhan with a sudden shift of energy.

His voice a little more casual, a little lighter.

“You free this evening?”

Zhan tilted his head.

“I can make myself free.”

“Good.”

Yibo said.

“Close the shop a bit early. We’ll go somewhere.”

“Where?”

Zhan asked, a little curious, a little excited.

“There’s a quiet spot by the river.”

Yibo said, his eyes lighting up slightly.

“Not many people know about it. Evenings there—golden sky, cool breeze, peace. Come with me.”

Zhan looked at him, warmth spreading behind his ribs.

“Yes.”

He said, the answer slipping out naturally.

Happily…

————————————

By 4 PM, Zhan closed the shop early, just like they’d planned.

The light outside had mellowed into a soft amber hue, the kind that gently kissed the pavements and rooftops without burning.

He was locking the shutters when he heard the low hum of a scooter pulling up at the curb.

Yibo had arrived, helmet perched loosely on his head, one hand casually resting on the handlebar.

“Ready?”

He asked, flashing a quick smile.

Zhan nodded.

“Yep.”

He climbed onto the back of the scooter, carefully putting on the spare helmet Yibo had handed him.

As they rode off, the wind swept past them in warm, lazy gusts.

The roads unfurled before them like a ribbon, flanked by trees that swayed gently in the early evening breeze.

Zhan let the quiet hum of the ride settle into his chest.

After about twenty minutes, the scenery began to shift.

Urban edges softened into open space, and then came the river.

The riverside was breathtaking.

The sky stretched wide and clear above, tinged with gold and hints of rose.

The river glimmered beneath it, calm and silver-blue, carrying the reflection of the fading sun in shimmering ripples.

A few people were out on evening walks—some older folks pacing slowly, a couple of joggers, a pair of teenagers holding hands and laughing softly.

But the place was quiet enough to feel like a pocket of peace.

Yibo stopped and parked the scooter.

Zhan stepped off the scooter, pulled off the helmet and ran a hand through his hair, adjusting it.

He looked around, his eyes lighting up.

“Wow… it’s beautiful.”

Yibo pulled off his helmet and looked at him.

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

Zhan said honestly.

Yibo grinned.

“I Knew it. You artistic types always fall for this kind of stuff.”

They found a spot near the shore, away from the path, where the grass was low and the river breeze could be felt fully.

They sat side by side, looking out at the calm water.

After a moment of silence, Zhan glanced over.

“Hey… why didn’t you come in the morning today? I didn’t see you after Linping.”

Yibo leaned back on his palms.

“Ah, my Baba came back from a trip late last night. So I skipped the morning classes and just came out in the afternoon to finish some deliveries… and to get my raincoat.”

He took a small pause and then said.

“…And maybe meet someone.”

Zhan looked down, trying not to smile too obviously, yet his lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

“Oh, I see…”

Yibo gave him a teasing side glance.

“You drink, Zhan-ge?”

Zhan blinked at the sudden change in topic.

But the way Yibo said ‘Zhan-ge’ made something warm stir in his chest.

“I do… but if I drink, I usually don’t go home that night. It’s not like my parents don’t know—I just try to avoid the embarrassment. I guess I’m still old school that way.”

Yibo chuckled.

“I only drink when Ba’s not home. Ma I can manage. I just stay quiet, go to my room, and crash. That’s probably how she figures it out.”

He smiled wryly.

“Next day she yells at me like anything… won’t talk to me for a day or two. But she still makes sure I eat. And after that, she’s the one who ends up talking to me first. But Ba? He has no clue. He’s a bit strict, you know?”

Zhan laughed, imagining the scene.

“Sounds like your Ma loves you a lot.”

Yibo shrugged lightly, but there was something tender in his expression.

“She does. In her own dramatic way.”

Zhan raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You ride pretty fast. I noticed that yesterday too. Guess the racer in you doesn’t know how to slow down, huh?”

Yibo smirked.

“If I go slow, I get bored. Just fast enough to get us there. Slow enough not to die.”

They both laughed.

Zhan glanced at him, curious.

“So… why automobile engineering?”

Yibo shrugged lightly.

“Dunno. I’ve always had a thing for bikes and cars. Thought if I’m gonna spend my life around them, might as well learn how they work.”

Zhan smiled at that—quietly amused, like the answer made perfect sense.

“Makes sense. Feels very you.”

Yibo nodded slightly.

“Yeah… just like this riverside. It gives the same kind of comfort as talking to you.”

Zhan turned to look at him, a bit caught off guard.

But Yibo was still gazing at the river, a faint smile on his lips.

“You just speak your mind, don’t you?”

Zhan asked, his voice low.

Yibo turned to him then, the smile lingering.

“That’s what I prefer. Speaking your mind is the most honest way to connect. Don’t you think so?”

Zhan nodded slowly, returning the smile.

They both fell silent, eyes drifting back to the river.

And they sat like that for a while—just talking.

Their words came slowly, but they flowed easier than before.

A thread of comfort and familiarity had started to weave itself between them, quietly but firmly.

By 6 PM, the sky had turned lavender-gray, and the streetlights began to flicker on.

They got up, brushing the grass from their clothes, and Yibo drove them both to the metro station.

The ride back felt quieter—more reflective.

Yibo’s station came first.

As the metro began to slow, he turned to Zhan.

“See you tomorrow?”

Zhan nodded.

“Yeah. Thanks for today.”

Yibo gave him a small salute.

“Later, Zhan-ge.”

As the doors slid closed behind him.

Zhan found himself smiling again—something about the quiet ease between them.

The softness of the river, and the way Yibo said his name.

It felt like something was changing.

Something good.

——————————————————

Dinner had ended a while ago.

The clatter of dishes had faded, replaced by the soft hum of the old fan in the living room.

And the low murmur of Zhan’s parents talking on the couch.

Zhan rinsed his teacup, set it down carefully in the sink.

And grabbed his phone and headphones before slipping out the back door.

The night air greeted him with a cool breath, carrying with it the faint scent of osmanthus flowers from a neighbor’s garden.

The quiet of the terrace welcomed him like an old friend—peaceful, unbothered, timeless.

He settled on the low wall, plugged in his headphones, and let the music wash over him.

Gentle acoustic notes drifted into his ears, but his mind quickly drifted elsewhere…

To the soft golden sky above the river, the ripples catching the sunset like brushed silk.

And to the boy who had taken him there.

Yibo.

Zhan exhaled slowly.

“What is it about him?”

He wondered, gazing at the stars scattered across the Hangzhou sky.

The wind tugged lightly at his shirt as memories played like a reel in his mind—

Yibo’s quiet smile as they sat by the river.

The way he’d noticed the exact kind of place Zhan would love.

How he asked if Zhan drank, not casually, but like he genuinely wanted to know.

Like he wanted to understand him.

“He’s protective. Caring. Thoughtful.”

Zhan thought, a slow smile pulling at his lips.

It felt easy around Yibo.

Strangely safe.

Strangely…warm.

Zhan tucked his chin into his knees and laughed quietly to himself.

“He’s really becoming… a good friend.”

He murmured under his breath.

———————————————————-

Meanwhile, in Linping, Yibo was in the workshop with his father.

The faint scent of engine oil and machine grease lingered in the air as a fan buzzed overhead.

Tools clicked and clinked as his father adjusted a motor, explaining some detail about the trip he’d just returned from.

Yibo nodded along, hands steady as he tightened a bolt.

But his mind… was elsewhere.

His thoughts drifted like a quiet tide—toward the man with the gentle voice and thoughtful eyes.

Zhan-ge.

Even the name in his mind made something ease in his chest.

He remembered the way Zhan had laughed at the riverbank.

The way he had looked around wide-eyed and quietly thrilled by the beauty of the place.

Yibo hadn’t even tried too hard—it just felt natural to want to show him something peaceful.

Something Zhan would love.

And he had loved it.

That made Yibo happy in a way he hadn’t expected.

And the way he’d said Yibo rode fast—half teasing, half hiding the truth that speed made him nervous.

He let out a quiet chuckle, noticed by his father.

“What’s funny?”

His Ba asked, glancing up.

“Ah—nothing. Just thinking about something.”

Yibo said, quickly ducking his head again to focus on the wrench in his hand.

But his smile lingered.

Calling him ‘Zhan-ge’ had started as a polite thing, maybe even teasing.

But now… it felt right.

It felt like something personal.

A little connection.

Something truly his.

“He’s special.”

Yibo thought, tightening the last bolt.

“His smile… it stays with me.”

—————————————————————-

That night, across two different rooftops under the same sky.

Both boys lay in bed staring at the ceiling, headphones in, hearts lighter.

Tomorrow is 7:45am again.

Another metro ride.

Another quiet shared moment.

It’s a small comfort and relief from the weight of the responsibilities they carry for their families.

It’s a friendship, a bond that growing stronger with each passing day.

They didn’t speak a word to each other that night.

But both fell asleep with the same thought:

“I hope I see him tomorrow.”


[To be continued…]