Sometimes beauty is born out of tragedy, out of a broken place that doesn’t seem capable of growing something beautiful.

And yet, even roses have thorns.

The Taiwanese BL Unknown, adapted from the web novel Da Ge by Priest, is a stunning example of a relationship built from a broken place. Starring Chris Chiu (Wei Qian) and Kurt Huang (Wei Zhiyuan), it delves deeply into a story about two boys who don’t belong anywhere but whose hearts seek a home and family in each other’s brokenness.

And it succeeds.

From the moment a young Yuan follows Qian from the darkness surrounding him in the streets to the warmth of Qian’s home, Unknown becomes a story about finding light in a period of darkness. It’s a concept that threads well throughout the series; from youth to adulthood, strangers to brothers to lovers, light and darkness balance each other, intertwine, and then become one. It’s a transformative experience that grips the soul and doesn’t let go.

Watching Unknown felt very personal for me. While my story is different from the two characters on screen, it also echoes in an oddly familiar and sometimes uncomfortable way. My father was an abusive alcoholic who abandoned our family when I was young, leaving us stranded without a home and with nowhere to go. My mother struggled to get us off the streets, making choices that many would look down on, but I revered her. She saved us and sacrificed a part of herself to do so. A few years later, she passed away, and it broke the last hopeful part of me I’d been hanging onto. By the time I was sixteen, my sister and I were living independently, attending school, and working to improve our lives.

There are parts of me that understand Qian in Unknown and parts of me that understand Yuan. Those two parts come together in their love story, uniting in a way that is as healing for those watching as it is for our two leads.

Unknown isn’t a story about brothers. It’s about two men who forged a brotherhood out of loneliness and pain. It’s about a man (Qian) who hides behind being a brother to shield himself from a love he’s afraid to reach for—a love he’s scared of destroying. It’s about two men who would do anything for each other—two men who’ve seen each other at their lowest and desired each other at their highest.

Most of all, it’s about a young man (Yuan) who dared to follow his heart and fought to hold onto it. It’s about feelings cultivated over time that aren’t easily swayed by others’ opinions.

From the beginning, it’s evident that Yuan attaches himself to Qian, adopting the need to take care of the boy who fed him in the streets by following him home. Although he’s younger than Qian and seen by those around them as the child Qian took in, the true caretaker is Yuan. He spends his life watching and waiting, catering to Qian’s needs quietly and with an ease no one else can manage. There’s a wall between Qian and the world that only Yuan can break into.

And that’s a powerful thing to watch on screen.

What makes it even more powerful are the actors. Chris Chiu and Kurt Huang step effortlessly into their roles, molding themselves into their characters to offer splendid performances that leave an inevitable impression. They don’t hold anything back, which bleeds into the narrative, creating a nuanced tension that brings Unknown to life. It’s devastatingly beautiful to watch.

There are many subtle touches layered into the series, from closed doors to open doorways, simple but telling gestures of affection, glimpses into mirrors that mimic what the characters hope for and fear, and alternating light and dark scenes. Whether this is intentional or not, it adds even more depth to a series that is already soul-deep at its core. Even the river where Qian and Yuan fish can be viewed as the ebbs and flows of life. The love scene, intertwined with their past, present, and the hope for their future, also ties together their culminating reality, the foundation of what Qian and Yuan become to each other: Time. They are like a clock, down to the second, circling each other through life and needing each other in every moment. They’ve made each other laugh, cry, suffer, yell, love, and need desperately, which was both heart-rending and stunning to watch. I felt it to my toes.

Although not the opening scene, for me, the Unknown’s story begins with a small homeless boy sitting outside a house, his face shrouded in darkness. He is determined but unsure, hopeful but not expectant, daring but exhausted, and patient. A front door opens, enveloping the young boy in light and beckoning. He knows stepping into the light, into the house where it emanates from, will change his life.

He’s right. It does for all of them.

Which brings me to the title of the series. One word: Unknown. A vast, expansive future that is uncertain. And there’s nothing people fear more than the unknown, an unpredictable future where anything can happen. Where anything can go wrong. Some might find excitement in the unknown, while others, like Qian, are terrified of not being in control of their future, especially when controlling themselves is the only predictable and comforting constant in their lives. For Qian, Yuan, as a brother, is something he can control and understand. Yuan, the lover, represents an exciting unknown Qian has to let go of his control of to experience.

Letting go has never been so freeing.

The series may have opened with a little boy sitting in the dark waiting for a door to open, but it closes inside the home that brought them together. Occasionally, it flashes to the red alley where Qian and Yuan met, a testament of the light borne from their meeting. Like two red roses hugging each other beyond the thorns.

And isn’t that the way it should be? We all live inside a world full of dark places, of shadows and low moments, of fear And desperation. We all wish for a hero in others and in ourselves. But no one is invincible. We’re all on a path headed toward an unknown future inside a life where we spend as much time hating ourselves as we do loving what we want to be. And the only thing we can do is keep stepping forward while holding onto the things and the people that bring light into the dark moments.

Because when it all comes down to it, there is always light inside the darkness if we look hard enough.

And that’s what Unknown left me with. It took me down a path full of shadows and ended in the light it was seeking. For every character, from Wei Qian and Wei Zhiyuan to Lili and San Pang to Le and Dr. Lin. We don’t choose who our hearts follow. We just have to keep walking toward it.

For a series that finds itself inside a love it finally learns to hold onto, check out Unknown now on the Youku app, Youku YT channel, or Viki. I highly recommend.

Rating- 4.5 out of 5