“Is this flower for me?”
Wen Ruqing took the rose. The white matte wrapping paper enclosed the misty pink rose. The flower hadn’t fully bloomed yet—its layered petals curled into a round shape, looking quite cute.
Without getting a response, Wen Ruqing looked up at the person in front of him. Bai Xizhou was staring at him, the look in his eyes unfamiliar—like tonight’s snow, landing coldly on one’s skin.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Wen Ruqing.” He called him by his full name. No longer using a familiar tone, his face also held no trace of a smile. “Let’s break up.”
The matte paper was crushed in Wen Ruqing’s hand. The dim yellow streetlamp cast a warm glow across the snow. Snowflakes landed on the rose, on Wen Ruqing’s eyelashes. The warm tears that rolled down his cheeks lost their temperature the moment they fell. He was stunned for a second, and lifted a hand to wipe them away.
“Why?” His voice trembled slightly—he didn’t know if it was from the cold or something else.
“Didn’t you like me?”
“You’re too boring. I think there’s no passion in being with you. This isn’t what I want.” He said it matter-of-factly, without a trace of reluctance. “I liked you before, but not anymore. Let’s part peacefully.”
After that, Wen Ruqing watched Bai Xizhou step out of the halo of the streetlamp, into the snowy night, and disappear from view. The heavy snow blocked his sight. Wen Ruqing’s legs felt like they were filled with lead, nailed to the ground.
……
“See? I told you—who else would love you? With your personality, people will only grow tired of you over time.”
……
“Every time someone talks to you, you say nothing. Out in the real world, no one would want someone like you.”
……
“Damn it, are you made of wood? Can you even speak properly?”
……
“Ruqing, this is Aunt Zhang. Say hi. Hurry up.”
……
“Why do you always look like a corpse when I tell you to greet people? Do I owe you something? Who are you making that face at?”
……
Wen Ruqing jolted awake, staring at the ceiling and gasping for breath. He sat up. The air conditioner was still running, and the cold wind brushed against his skin. It wasn’t winter, and it wasn’t snowing. It had just been a dream.
His heart still hadn’t calmed. The sound of his heartbeat mixed with his heavy breathing. Wen Ruqing’s mind was a complete mess, filled with Bai Xizhou’s cold face. The voices from the past echoed in his ears.
“Boring” and “rigid”—those two words had followed him nearly his whole life. Disgust and distance were expressions he’d seen on nearly everyone around him.
Fear clung to him like a bone-deep plague. Suddenly, he felt dizzy. His breathing grew more difficult. From between clenched teeth came a stifled moan of pain, and big tears rolled down his face.
Wen Ruqing gritted his teeth and reached toward the nightstand. He could barely open the drawer properly—his hands shook uncontrollably. After much effort, he finally found the handle. At the very back of the drawer were two packs of pills.
He swallowed the white pills without water. As he waited for the medicine to take effect, the raised aluminum foil of the packaging became crumpled in his hand. The soft floral pattern on the blanket bunched up.
Suddenly, his phone rang, drawing his attention away. He glanced at it—the screen showed 3:00 a.m.
The medicine had a sleep aid component. As he gradually calmed down, drowsiness crept in. He didn’t check the new message. His curiosity couldn’t compete with his heavy eyelids. Just before he drifted off, he thought—he really should see a doctor tomorrow.
The next day, Wen Ruqing took leave and went to the hospital. The doctor he used to see wasn’t available, so he switched to another one. This new doctor didn’t really understand his condition.
“You have anxiety disorder, right?” the doctor asked. “How long has it been?”
“About five or six years. But I haven’t had any episodes in the past year. I thought I was cured, so I stopped taking the medication,” Wen Ruqing answered honestly.
His previous doctor had advised him to try making friends. He did. That’s how he met Bai Xizhou, and then Chen Qi and Xu Yuanyuan. His mood had been good for almost a year, with no signs of relapse. He thought he was fine, so he stopped the medication on his own. He just didn’t know why it all came back again last night.
“I still advise against stopping medication without guidance.” The doctor got a general understanding of the situation. Patients like Wen Ruqing who stop their meds on their own weren’t uncommon—he was already used to repeatedly stressing the importance of following the prescription.
Wen Ruqing lowered his head and listened as the doctor spoke, nodding slowly, his fingers rubbing against each other until the skin turned red and warm.
“Actually, you could try picking up a hobby. Something to help shift your attention,” the doctor said as he handed the prescription slip to Wen Ruqing. “Still, you need to maintain a good mood. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”
Wen Ruqing nodded, took the slip, and left the office, ready to go collect the medication.
Qu Qingchen had a surgery scheduled for today. Though he wasn’t the lead surgeon, it was still an important one. He was walking alongside the director, going over the surgery details.
Just as Wen Ruqing walked past him, Qu Qingchen was listening to the director speak. His eyes happened to glance to the side and caught sight of Wen Ruqing heading toward the elevator, holding a hospital slip in his hand. He then glanced at the department on this floor.
“What is it?” The director noticed Qu Qingchen zoning out and asked with some confusion. “Is there a problem?”
“No. I just saw someone I know—it’s a bit odd.” Qu Qingchen looked away, pushed down the doubt in his heart, and kept walking toward the neurosurgery department. “Director, please continue.”
It was too small of a matter. Too small to be worth mentioning.
Qu Qingchen was extremely busy today. Aside from the morning surgery, there were still two more scheduled in the afternoon. He was so swamped he barely had time to catch his breath—he completely forgot about seeing Wen Ruqing at the hospital.
After picking up his medication from the hospital, Wen Ruqing went home, took a shower, made himself something simple to eat, and went to sleep.
For the next few days, he went to work and came home as usual. Other than restoration work, the thing he did the most was sleep. He always looked like he hadn’t had enough rest. Chen Qi thought he looked quite pitiful and stopped asking him to go out and hang out.
But even in such days, Wen Ruqing felt like he had forgotten something—something very important.
He couldn’t remember. After taking his meds, Wen Ruqing fell asleep again.
He was woken by a knock at the door. By the time he opened his eyes, it was already dark outside. Just waking up, his blood sugar was a little low, and he felt a bit dizzy when he got up, but it quickly passed. He slipped on his slippers and went to open the door.
As soon as the door opened a little, Wen Ruqing felt a force from outside push it open. Bai Xizhou, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, was standing there in front of him.
For a moment, the two of them said nothing.
“Don’t you have a key to my place?” Wen Ruqing’s voice still held a hint of sleepiness.
“Forgot. Didn’t bring it. Lost it.”
Three words, three explanations. Wen Ruqing felt a headache coming on.
“You need something from me?” he asked while rubbing his temples. He turned around to pour a glass of water and grabbed a candy from the table to put in his mouth.
“Do I need something to come see you?” Bai Xizhou asked, a hint of barely noticeable hurt in his eyes. “Did you see the message I sent you?”
Wen Ruqing paused. He didn’t remember seeing any message. Did he miss one? That wouldn’t be surprising—he hadn’t been in touch with Bai Xizhou lately.
Seeing Wen Ruqing’s reaction, Bai Xizhou confirmed that he hadn’t seen it. He sighed and tried his best to act natural.
“Forget it. If you didn’t see it, I’ll just tell you now.” Bai Xizhou stepped in closer, like usual, crossing that line of social space. “There’s a music festival in Xincheng this weekend. I’ve got tickets. I want to go with you.”
He rested his hand on the table, close to Wen Ruqing’s. Noticing the movement, Wen Ruqing subtly stepped back. The hands that were almost touching now had an apple’s worth of distance between them.
Bai Xizhou frowned. He looked at Wen Ruqing, whose face held no expression, his gaze lowered, eyes fixed on Bai Xizhou’s hand.
Something felt off. The Wen Ruqing from before wouldn’t have pulled away. He wouldn’t have even noticed how close they were.
“I might have work…” Wen Ruqing tried to refuse but couldn’t come up with a proper excuse.
“The music festival is on Sunday. The research institute doesn’t work on Sundays.” Bai Xizhou blocked off Wen Ruqing’s excuse in one sentence. “Qingqing, are you avoiding me?”
“No, you’re overthinking it.” Wen Ruqing took a sip of water, a flash of unease quickly crossing his face. He turned away from the table and walked over to sit on the sofa. “Why would I avoid you?”
“So, the music festival—are you coming?”
“I’ll go.” As if to prove that he wasn’t avoiding him, that he really had just been busy, Wen Ruqing finally agreed to Bai Xizhou.
Bai Xizhou let out a sigh of relief after hearing the answer.
The music festival in Xincheng was held in the suburbs. Bai Xizhou and Wen Ruqing got their tickets from an insider, so no matter what time they arrived, they would be led to the front row.
It was Wen Ruqing’s first time experiencing a music festival. He was used to quiet, but there was no way the scene here could be called quiet.
Men and women dressed fashionably, dancing along to the rhythm of the band on stage. Among the crowd, some waved flags printed with lyrics or other slogans. Everyone’s face was filled with joy. They were immersed in the music, leaving behind work, stress, exhaustion—everything heavy. In that moment, their world consisted of only music.
Wen Ruqing felt a little out of place among them. Even though he had changed out of his usual plain-colored T-shirt, he still felt uncomfortable, like there was an invisible barrier between him and everyone else.
Bai Xizhou held his hand, saying it was to “keep from getting lost,” but Wen Ruqing just felt even more uneasy.
“Qingqing, relax. It’s okay if you can’t dance, just move to the rhythm.” To make sure Wen Ruqing could hear, Bai Xizhou leaned in close—so close that if Wen Ruqing turned his head, their lips would meet.
Wen Ruqing took a small step back, but someone behind him bumped him forward again. He heard that person apologize, then they kept dancing along with the music.
He tried hard to blend in, to not seem so different. In a no-man’s land of his own, he followed Bai Xizhou’s movements and waved his arms, shouting with the people around him, singing songs he had never heard before. But deep down, he still felt uncomfortable and out of place.
Suddenly, the big screen on stage switched from displaying lyrics to showing the crowd. The camera zoomed quickly until it locked onto a young couple—surprised expressions on their faces, then shy glances. But after a moment, they leaned in and shared a brief kiss, before continuing to dance.
“Are they a couple?” Wen Ruqing stopped moving his hands. It was his first time seeing something like that. He turned to look at the more experienced Bai Xizhou.
“Not necessarily,” Bai Xizhou answered, pulling Wen Ruqing into his arms a little to shield him from being hit by others.
“They can kiss even if they’re not a couple?” Wen Ruqing’s voice was small, like he was asking himself rather than Bai Xizhou.
While Wen Ruqing was still thinking about it, the camera on the screen changed again—and now it was showing him and Bai Xizhou. The people around them all looked over, teasing and cheering.
Was Bai Xizhou going to kiss him too?
Wen Ruqing turned to look at him. In that moment, he saw joy in Bai Xizhou’s eyes—like this freeze-frame was exactly what he had hoped for. He leaned in and kissed Wen Ruqing on the cheek.
Wen Ruqing’s heart was in disarray. His body stiffened slightly. For the rest of the festival, he moved like a robot, mind still stuck on that kiss.
That was a kiss Bai Xizhou gave him while fully sober.
By the time the music festival ended, it was already late. Bai Xizhou led him to the car, the curve of his lips hard to hide. Joy radiated from his entire being, even without saying anything—it was clear he was very happy.
But Wen Ruqing was still stuck on that kiss. His heart was beating faster, his pulse was erratic—something felt off. He tried to pull away from Bai Xizhou, and the movement caught his attention.
“Qingqing.” Bai Xizhou called his name and pulled him in front of him. Behind him was his car. He didn’t stop Wen Ruqing from escaping—but Wen Ruqing didn’t move, only lowered his head. “Look up.”
At the words, Wen Ruqing looked up. His eyes were misted over, and the lights scattered across them like stars. Bai Xizhou smiled and slowly leaned in.
The distance between their lips kept shrinking. Just as they were about to touch, Wen Ruqing snapped back to his senses and raised a hand between them.
“Bai Xizhou, think carefully. If you kiss me today, we might never be able to be friends again.” Wen Ruqing looked at him, fear surfaced in his eyes, his voice trembling slightly.
“Who wants to be just friends with you?”
Going all in now, Bai Xizhou let out a light laugh, brushed away Wen Ruqing’s hand, and kissed him.
Just as he imagined—soft, and burning hot. He didn’t intend to go any further. After lingering on Wen Ruqing’s lips for a minute, he pulled away.
“Qingqing, I like you. I don’t want to be friends with you. Understand?”
The days of not being in contact were torture. Bai Xizhou had thought about it—he used the music festival as an excuse to invite Wen Ruqing out, planning to confess to him there. After all, people were usually more emotionally heightened after a music festival, and he figured that would give him a better chance.
But he still didn’t understand Wen Ruqing well enough.
Wen Ruqing accepted the kiss calmly—but didn’t say anything. The confession echoed in his ears, but his expression remained indifferent. He pushed Bai Xizhou away and walked off into the street, faster and faster, until he broke into a run.
It was a bad time to hail a cab, but Wen Ruqing got lucky and flagged down an empty one. He got in and told the driver to hurry.
That kiss seemed to have drained all the strength from him. Sitting in the back seat, his hands nearly clawed through the leather cushion.
“You’d better not go ruin someone else.”
“Why are you even dating?”
“No one can stand you. You always look like you’re already dead.”
The tears rolled down uncontrollably. He raised his hands to cover his ears, trying to shut the voices out of his head—but they kept coming back like a curse, again and again.
“I’m not someone worth liking at all.” Wen Ruqing murmured with his head down. “You don’t even know what kind of person I really am.”
Hands trembling, Wen Ruqing pulled out his phone and called Feng Yuhua. When the call connected, he sniffled and tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible.
“Sister Feng, I’ve thought it through. I’ll go.”
Frozen Starlight
Wen Ruqing is currently a bit avoidant when it comes to relationships. He just needs some time to recover.
Looking at the story’s progress, if you’re here to see the couple being all lovey-dovey, you’ll probably have to wait another seven or eight chapters. I mentioned it before—the uke is very, very, very slow to realize his feelings. But I promise, once they get together, it’ll be absolutely sweet, sweet, sweet!
Also, the depiction of anxiety disorder episodes might not be entirely accurate—I’ve taken some subjective liberties with it, so please don’t take it too literally.
![Poor Little Thing Reborn as a Spoiled Child [ABO]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/529280897e9ecfdd9f221749897bd3c6.jpeg "Poor Little Thing Reborn as a Spoiled Child [ABO]")
