Yichen's motorcycle screeched to a halt outside the small, discreet clinic. He burst through the doors, his eyes wild with fear.
Meilin was sitting in the empty waiting room, her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
"Nainai!" Yichen rushed to her, dropping to his knees in front of her chair. "What happened? Tell me! Where is he?"
Meilin looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "They… they beat him. Some men. In an alley. His car was wrecked…"
"Who?!" Yichen demanded, his voice a furious growl. "Did you see them? What hospital is this? Why is he here? We need to take him to the best specialist hospital in the city, now!" He started to get up, ready to charge into the treatment rooms.
"Yichen, STOP!" Meilin grabbed his arm with surprising strength, pulling him back down. Her voice was a desperate whisper. "Sit. And listen to me."
"Listen to what?!" Yichen snapped, panic making him harsh. "This is no time for stories! He needs doctors!"
"He had a miscarriage," Meilin said, the words clear and heavy.
Yichen froze. Then he let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "What? What nonsense are you talking about? Miscarriage? He's a man! What kind of quack doctor is this? We're transferring him right now!" He tried to pull away again.
"SIT DOWN!" Meilin's voice cracked with a mother's authority. She held his gaze, her eyes filled with a painful truth. "He was pregnant. He lost the baby."
Yichen stared at her, his mind completely rejecting the words. "Pregnant? That's… that's impossible. You're not making sense."
Meilin took a deep, shuddering breath. She spoke slowly, forcing him to hear every word. "Yichen. Have you ever wondered… who Zhiyuan's mother is?"
The question was so unexpected it cut through his panic. He blinked. "What?"
"Have you ever heard about her? Have you ever wondered why Zhiyuan's birth was such a big secret? Why he was hidden, raised by a maid? Why a powerful mafia boss like Han Zhenlong would send you, his most trusted man, to protect a 'random' CEO?"
Yichen's breath caught. The pieces were there, but he couldn't see the picture. "I… I don't…"
"The boss," Meilin said, her voice dropping to a reverent whisper, "Han Zhenlong, is Zhiyuan's biological father. But the person who gave birth to him… who carried him for nine months and delivered him… was Liang Wenhao. Zhiyuan's father. The former CEO."
The world tilted. Yichen felt the floor fall away beneath him. He took an unsteady step back, his hand reaching for the wall to steady himself.
"Wenhao was like Zhiyuan. A male who could conceive. Zhiyuan inherited it from him." Meilin's tears fell again. "The baby he just lost… he was pregnant. The mood swings, the nausea, the strange cravings for egg tarts, the fatigue… it wasn't sickness or stress. It was because he was carrying a child."
The child zhiyuan lost…
The dots connected in Yichen's mind with a devastating, heart-shattering clarity.
The child zhiyuan lost was…
His own child.
Their child.
The cravings he'd indulged. The naps he'd watched over. The mood swings he'd soothed. The life growing inside the man he loved, a secret even from Zhiyuan himself… and now it was gone.
A wave of grief so profound it was physical crashed over Yichen. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, his head in his hands. The tough, unshakeable bodyguard was completely broken.
The guilt was a crushing weight on his chest. Why wasn't I there? Why did I listen when he told me to stay away? I should have been protecting him. His mind refused to fully accept the impossible truth, but the pain in his heart felt all too real.
An hour passed in a blur of silent agony.
Finally, the door to the treatment room opened. Dr. Shen came out, looking exhausted and sad.
Meilin hurried to her feet. "Doctor?"
Yichen scrambled up, his eyes desperate.
Dr. Shen sighed, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. "He's stable. The bleeding has stopped. I gave him a strong sedative he's sleeping now. His body needs rest to heal."
"Can I see him?" Yichen's voice was hoarse.
Dr. Shen looked at the broken young man and nodded. "Yes. But don't try to wake him up. Just let him rest."
Meilin thanked the doctor softly. Yichen pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The sight that greeted him stole the air from his lungs.
Zhiyuan lay on the hospital bed, looking pale and fragile under the white sheets. A monitor beeped softly nearby, tracking his heart rate. An IV line was taped to the back of his hand, and a clear oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth.
All of Yichen's strength left him. His legs gave out, and he stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the bed. A choked sob escaped him as he looked at the man he loved, broken and injured because he had failed. He reached out a trembling hand and gently took Zhiyuan's limp, cool fingers in his own, holding on as if it were a lifeline.
Meilin and Dr. Shen quietly entered the room behind him. Meilin placed a comforting hand on Yichen's shaking shoulder.
Dr. Shen's face was hard with anger. He looked at the sleeping Zhiyuan, then at Yichen and Meilin. "Where is that motherfucker now?" he growled, his voice low with rage.
Meilin turned to him, her expression grim. "He sent Yichen to protect him."
Dr. Shen clenched his fists. A bitter, pained chuckle escaped him. "Han Zhenlong. I wish… I wish I could have protected Wenhao from him. Maybe he'd still be alive."
Meilin's own jaw tightened. She shook her head firmly. "You know that's not true. You know this very well. Zhenlong is not the reason for any of this. All of this would have happened even if he wasn't the father." She looked back at Zhiyuan, her voice softening with painful gratitude. "It's only because of Zhenlong, and his resources, that Zhiyuan is even alive right now."
Dr. Shen looked away, the conflict clear on his face. He wiped at his eyes angrily. "I need some air," he muttered, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
In the quiet room, Yichen was still crying silently, his forehead resting against the bed rail, still holding Zhiyuan's hand.
Meilin knelt beside him. Her voice was urgent now, a whisper. "Yichen. Listen to me. I don't think keeping him here is safe anymore. Not even in this clinic. The people who did this… they might come looking."
She placed a firm hand on his arm, making him look at her. "You need to call the boss. Call Han Zhenlong. Tell him everything. About the attack, about… about the baby. Everything. He will know what to do. He is the only one who can make sure Zhiyuan is truly safe now."
Yichen looked from Meilin's determined face to Zhiyuan's pale, sleeping one. The protector in him, the soldier, knew she was right. He nodded, a new resolve hardening through his grief. He pulled out his encrypted phone. It was time to call the one person whose power matched the danger they were in. It was time to call Zhiyuan's real father.
Yichen walked outside the clinic into the cool night air. His hands were shaking so badly he almost dropped his phone. He took a deep, shuddering breath and dialed the number he only used in absolute emergencies.
The call connected after one ring. A low, deep, and intimidating voice came through, devoid of any greeting. "Report."
Yichen gulped, his throat tight. "Boss... it's Zhiyuan. He's badly injured. but... we can't keep him here. It's not safe."
There was a heavy silence on the other end. Yichen could almost feel the cold fury radiating through the line. Then, the voice spoke, calm but carrying absolute command.
"Take him to Xiapu Village. The safe house by the old fishing docks. I will be there by morning."
"Yes, Boss," Yichen said, the order cutting through his panic. The call ended.
He turned to go back inside but stopped. Dr. Shen was standing in the clinic doorway, a small duffel bag in his hand. He had overheard.
"I'm coming with you," Dr. Shen stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "He's my patient. He needs continuous care."
Yichen hesitated for only a second, then nodded. Having the doctor was crucial. "Thank you."
He quickly called two of his most trusted men. "We're moving. Now. Bring the car around back."
Inside, Meilin was already moving with quiet efficiency. She packed a bag of simple food and water. She even slipped out to a late-night market nearby and bought a set of soft, clean clothes for Zhiyuan to change into later. Dr. Shen gathered his medical kit, extra medicines, and supplies they might need.
Soon, a dark, unremarkable SUV pulled up behind the clinic. Yichen's men carefully carried a still-unconscious Zhiyuan, wrapped in blankets, and placed him gently in the back seat.
Yichen climbed in and carefully laid Zhiyuan's head on his lap, cushioning it. He brushed the damp hair from Zhiyuan's forehead, his touch infinitely gentle. Dr. Shen took the passenger seat, and one of Yichen's men got behind the wheel.
Meilin stood by the car door, her eyes swimming with tears. She handed the bags of food and clothes to Yichen. "Take care of him," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "And take care of yourself, my boy."
Yichen nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his own throat. "We will, Nainai."
The car door closed. The engine started with a soft purr.
Meilin stood alone in the dim light of the clinic's back door, watching as the taillights of the SUV disappeared into the dark, winding roads that led away from the city, towards the hidden safety of Xiapu Village and the looming presence of Han Zhenlong.
At the Penthouse:
A crystal vase shattered against the wall. Aunt Ruifen was a hurricane of rage. She kicked one of the kneeling men in the shoulder, sending him sprawling.
"USELESS! I told you I needed his head delivered to me! And you ran away? You're all cowards!" she screamed.
The men knelt on the floor, heads bowed in shame, not daring to speak.
Ruifen paced, her eyes blazing. "Fine. New orders. Go back. Find where Zhiyuan is hiding. And I want the Liang Group headquarters burned. Make it look like an accident electrical fire, gas leak, I don't care. And once you find Zhiyuan," she said, her voice dropping to an icy whisper, "you kill him. No more mistakes."
The men bowed deeply. "Yes, Madam!" They scrambled to their feet and hurried out.
Next Morning, Xiapu Village:
The SUV arrived at the secluded villa just as the sun was rising over the quiet fishing village. It was a sturdy, unassuming house built right by the old docks, a perfect hiding place.
Yichen gently lifted Zhiyuan, still asleep from the sedatives, and carried him inside. Dr. Shen followed closely, and Yichen's men brought in the bags of supplies.
Yichen laid Zhiyuan on the bed in the main bedroom with infinite care. Dr. Shen immediately began setting up a makeshift IV to keep him hydrated.
Suddenly, the front door downstairs burst open with a force that shook the quiet house.
Yichen froze. He knew who it was. He looked down at Zhiyuan's peaceful, sleeping face for a long moment, his heart heavy, before turning and walking out of the room.
At the bottom of the staircase stood Han Zhenlong.
He was a tall, imposing figure, dressed in dark, simple clothes. His hands were in his pockets, but the power and anger radiating from him filled the small foyer. Four of his own men stood silently behind him.
Zhenlong looked up the stairs. His eyes, the same intense shape as Zhiyuan's but colder, locked onto Yichen. "Report," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "What happened? Tell me everything."
Yichen came down the stairs slowly. "Boss… Zhiyuan… he told me to give him some space. I couldn't refuse him. But I still kept watch, I promise. I just… I didn't know when he left the company from a different exit. Some men on bikes followed him. They caused an accident, then beat him in an alley."
Zhenlong's jaw clenched. A muscle ticked in his cheek as he held back his fury. "And?" he asked, the words sharp.
Yichen looked at the floor, his voice dropping to a pained whisper. "And … he had a miscarriage."
The words landed in the silent room like a bomb.
Han Zhenlong froze. His eyes, which had been blazing with anger, went wide with utter shock. He turned slowly to his men. "Out. All of you. Close the door."
The men filed out silently, closing the heavy front door behind them.
Zhenlong turned back to Yichen. In two strides, he was in front of him. He grabbed the front of Yichen's shirt and yanked him close. "What did you just say?" he hissed, his voice deadly calm. "Miscarriage? You never reported he had a boyfriend. You said he wasn't interested in relationships. You said his engagement was broken. Explain. Now."
Yichen couldn't meet his gaze. He looked down, shame burning through him.
Zhenlong's grip tightened. Then, as the truth dawned on him, his eyes widened in horrified understanding. He let go of Yichen's shirt as if burned. He took a step back.
"You…" he breathed, the single word loaded with a storm of betrayal and rage. "It was you."
Before Yichen could say a word, Zhenlong's fist shot out. It connected with Yichen's jaw with a sickening crack, sending him stumbling back into the wall.
"BOSS, PLEA—!" Yichen winched scrambling to his knees on the floor. "I'm sorry! I beg for your forgiveness!"
But Zhenlong saw only red. The man he trusted to protect his son had not only failed but had gotten him pregnant and then lost the child his grandchild. He ripped off his own coat and threw it aside.
"You dog!" Zhenlong roared. He grabbed Yichen by the hair and slammed his head down against the wooden floor. "You worthless piece of trash! I trusted you with my blood!" He kicked him in the ribs. "You were supposed to PROTECT him, not DEFILE him!"
Each curse was punctuated by another brutal kick or blow. Yichen didn't fight back. He took the beating, curling in on himself, his own tears of pain and guilt mixing with the blood on his lips, his only pleas whispered apologies into the floorboards for the man upstairs and the life they had lost.
Han Zhenlong's rage was a living, breathing thing in the small foyer. He was no longer the calculated mafia boss; he was a father, a grandfather, betrayed and grieving.
He grabbed Yichen by the collar again, hauling him up from the floor only to slam him back against the solid wooden wall. THUD.
"You stupid, reckless boy!" Zhenlong roared, his face inches from Yichen's bleeding one. "I didn't send you there to play house! I sent you to be a shield! A wall!"
He slammed Yichen's head against the wall again for emphasis. THUD. "What were you THINKING?!"
Yichen gasped, seeing stars. "I… I didn't plan… it just happened… I'm sorry…"
"SORRY?!" Zhenlong shoved him away, sending him stumbling. "Your 'sorry' brings back my grandchild? Your 'sorry' takes the pain away from my son?!" He followed him, delivering a vicious kick to Yichen's side, making him crumple.
"All these years! I kept him in the dark! I let him think he was alone to keep him safe! And you… you waltz in and in a few months you destroy everything!" He grabbed Yichen's hair, forcing his head up. "Did you even stop to think? Did you think about what that would do to him? To his body? To his mind?"
"I love him," Yichen choked out, a desperate confession through the pain.
"LOVE?" Zhenlong's laugh was harsh and bitter. He released his hair only to backhand him across the face. "This is not love! This is selfishness! This is weakness! Look what your 'love' has cost him! Look what it has cost ME!"
He was shaking with fury. "I trusted you. You were the only one from my world I thought was clean enough, strong enough, to be near him. And you betrayed that trust in the worst possible way."
He kicked Yichen again, not aiming to kill, but to punish, to make him feel a fraction of the anguish he felt. "You get him pregnant and you don't even KNOW? You don't even PROTECT him? He gets attacked and loses the baby because YOU WEREN'T THERE!"
The sound of the violent beating and shouting finally became too much. The bedroom door upstairs opened, and Dr. Shen came down the stairs, his face a mask of professional disapproval and deep-seated anger.
"ENOUGH!" he barked, his voice sharp in the chaotic room. "Keep your voices down! He is sleeping upstairs! Have you no sense?"
The command, so unexpected, made Zhenlong freeze mid-motion, his fist still clenched. He turned and saw Dr. Shen. His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in hostility. "You," he spat. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Dr. Shen ignored him. He walked straight past the furious mafia boss and knelt beside the bruised and bleeding Yichen. He began checking his injuries with practiced hands.
"What I'm doing," Dr. Shen said coldly, not looking up, "is the thing you should have been doing all along. Treating and protecting your son."
Zhenlong's jaw tightened. "Get the hell out of my house."
Dr. Shen finally stood up and faced him, stepping so close they were almost nose to nose. His voice was a low, dangerous challenge. "Make me."
They stared each other down, decades of history and resentment crackling between them.
"Your habit of sticking your nose into other people's problems hasn't gone away, I see," Zhenlong sneered.
"And at least I'm not the one beating the person who stayed," Dr. Shen fired back. "Don't forget, Han Zhenlong, you're the one who ran away from Wenhao's life. At least Yichen is here with Zhiyuan, facing the consequences."
That hit a nerve. Zhenlong's hand shot out, grabbing the front of Dr. Shen's shirt and pulling him close. "I didn't run away!" he growled, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "You understand! You know it very well! My enemies were everywhere! If I hadn't left, if I had stayed close, they would have found him! Zhiyuan wouldn't have been born, and Wenhao would have died a lot sooner!"
Dr. Shen didn't flinch. He met his furious gaze. "Still. You weren't there to save him when it mattered."
The words landed like a physical blow. Zhenlong released his grip on the doctor's shirt, taking a step back as if burned.
Dr. Shen looked away, blinking rapidly, trying to hold back his own tears of old grief. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, haunted. "Do you know what Wenhao said… during delivery?"
Zhenlong went very still, his eyes locked on the doctor.
"He was bleeding badly. We all thought he wouldn't survive. He was in agony. But you know what? He didn't care about himself. In that moment, he didn't even care about the son he was fighting to bring into the world." Dr. Shen's voice broke. "All he wanted… was to hear your voice. He was begging me. 'Call him, Shen-ge, please call Zhenlong. Is he safe? Did you call him?'"
"Shut up," Zhenlong whispered, his face pale.
But Dr. Shen continued, the memory torturing them both. "And you… you never even called. Not once."
"HOW COULD I HAVE?" Zhenlong suddenly yelled, the raw pain exploding out of him. He turned away, running a hand over his face. "I was trapped! Surrounded! I was afraid that if I made one call, they would trace the signal right to his hospital room! I had no choice! Do you think I wanted to be absent? Do you think it didn't kill me?!"
Dr. Shen didn't let him finish his justification. He'd heard it all before. He held up a hand, cutting him off. His anger was spent, leaving only exhaustion. "I'm not here to waste my time rehashing old wounds with you."
He turned back to Yichen, who was watching them with dazed, pained eyes. "Come on, boy. Let's go treat your wounds." He helped Yichen to his feet. As they passed Zhenlong, Dr. Shen didn't look at him. He delivered his final order, cold and firm.
"And you. Stay away from Zhiyuan. At least for now. He doesn't need your anger. He needs peace."
He led the limping Yichen towards the kitchen to clean him up, leaving Han Zhenlong standing alone in the foyer, surrounded by the ghosts of his past failures and the crushing weight of his present ones.