The next morning, Xia Xinghe received Bai Qingzhou’s reply.
[Bai]: Okay.
[Bai]: [Transfer]
[Bai]: For the first month.
Even though Xia Xinghe had said earlier that he didn’t want to be paid, Bai Qingzhou still sent him money. Well, he wasn’t going to reject free money—Xia Xinghe accepted it without fuss. When he opened it, he was shocked: 2,000 yuan.
The previous worker was paid by the visit. Bai Qingzhou worked a night shift every three days, so typically he’d need help about ten times a month. Ten visits, 2,000 yuan—200 per visit. Bai Qingzhou had prepaid for the first month: 2,000 in total.
Although it wasn’t a huge sum and didn’t compare to his writing income, the idea of earning pocket money while playing with a dog didn’t seem like a bad deal to Xia Xinghe. He further convinced himself that this was perfectly reasonable.
[Little Bamboo]: Thanks, boss.
[Little Bamboo]: How’s Bamboo’s check-up? Nothing serious, right?
Using the name “Little Bamboo” on WeChat still felt a little weird, but Xia Xinghe was great at convincing himself. Soon, he didn’t care.
It was just a name anyway. So what if it was a joke? Bai Qingzhou had randomly mimicked a dog barking once, hadn’t he? There really wasn’t much of a difference.
While he was mulling that over, Bai Qingzhou’s reply came in.
[Bai]: Just some surface wounds. No bone damage. The doctor said half a month of rest should do.
[Bai]: [Image] [Image] [Image]
Bai Qingzhou sent some X-rays and a medical report. Xia Xinghe didn’t understand them, but he trusted Bai Qingzhou’s judgment. Since Bai Qingzhou said it was fine, he felt relieved and simply replied “OK.”
Bai Qingzhou also sent pictures showing where the dog food, leash, and toys were kept, as well as the schedule he had previously given to the previous worker. He didn’t mention meeting up, and Xia Xinghe saved all the info, thinking this arrangement wasn’t bad. Every time they met, things got awkward—it might be better to keep things casual like this.
[Little Bamboo: OK!]
[Little Bamboo: I’ll contact you if anything comes up.]
“Contact if anything comes up” implied most of the time they wouldn’t need to.
Xia Xinghe followed Bai Qingzhou’s schedule and visited regularly, never once meeting him face to face.
Bamboo was very well-behaved and obedient. After the injury, it became even more clingy. On the first day, it howled and rubbed against Xia Xinghe, looking pitiful and making Xia Xinghe’s heart melt.
The previous worker had hit pretty hard. Although Bamboo hadn’t broken any bones, it had several cuts and some muscle damage. Its whole back leg had swelled. Bamboo clearly felt pain—it’d lie in its bed without moving for days. Eventually, it got a bit better and began walking around in small circles, but never strayed far.
The days passed in routine, and two weeks went by in a flash.
The season shifted from late autumn to winter. Clothes got thicker, and the shaved patch on Bamboo’s hind leg was now covered in soft white fuzz. The skin underneath had fully healed; the wounds and swelling were completely gone.
Maybe Bamboo really did have some sort of magic. During this half-month of dog-sitting, Xia Xinghe had been exceptionally inspired. Writing came effortlessly. After launching a new story two days ago, reader feedback was great. Many commented, “This is the first time I’ve seen this kind of theme—it’s surprisingly fun!” Xia Xinghe replied, “Thank you! I’ll keep working hard,” secretly pleased.
He still rarely saw Bai Qingzhou, and when he did, it was just in passing. Their WeChat conversation had gone quiet, no further progress made. Life settled into a peaceful rhythm—until one day, Xia Xinghe noticed something strange about Bamboo.
Bamboo had recovered quickly, and its hind leg was fully healed. Aside from the fur not growing back completely, it looked identical to the healthy leg. But it still walked with a limp.
At first, Xia thought maybe the leg just hadn’t fully recovered yet, but another week passed, and the fur had grown to nearly palm-length—yet Bamboo still hobbled. Even when Xia Xinghe teased it with his favorite yellow frisbee, it wouldn’t chase after it.
Xia Xinghe had checked that leg several times but couldn’t find anything wrong. Still, he knew they couldn’t just let it drag on. He finally told Bai Qingzhou: “You’d better take Bamboo back for another check-up.”
Bai Qingzhou cared a lot about Bamboo and had already suspected something was off. The day after Xia Xinghe brought it up, he took Bamboo to the pet hospital. The results came back quickly: the leg injury had healed completely. Bamboo’s limp wasn’t physical—it was a psychological response, a form of trauma-induced resistance.
Though rare, similar cases had been observed in other pets. The vet worked with Bai Qingzhou to create a rehabilitation plan for Bamboo—to rebuild leg muscle strength and help him overcome his fear.
The plan required daily exercises, and Bai Qingzhou clearly didn’t have the time or energy for that. So, naturally, the responsibility fell to Xia Xinghe.
Concerned about Bamboo’s condition and with plenty of free time, Xia Xinghe didn’t mind adding another task to his plate. He agreed without much hesitation. Bai Qingzhou, meanwhile, politely thanked him several times and even doubled his pay.
Clear boundaries and fair pay—this was good.
The rehabilitation process was a bit complex and needed to be taught step-by-step. So the two agreed to meet that weekend, with Bai Qingzhou demonstrating first, and Xia Xinghe following his lead.
The two hadn’t seen each other in quite a while. On Saturday, Xia Xinghe specially dressed up: a knitted sweater paired with a small vest, and little leather boots on his feet — the trendiest combination of the season.
He walked confidently into Bai Qingzhou’s home, intending to show off his vibrant, successful side. But the moment he stepped through the door, his attention was immediately drawn to Bai Qingzhou.
Unlike his own delicate and cute looks, Bai Qingzhou had sharper features — brows like distant mountains, a tall and well-proportioned figure, like a walking clothes hanger who could pull off any outfit. Even in simple casual wear, with his hair slightly tousled, he looked more eye-catching than a celebrity.
Xia Xinghe truly liked Bai Qingzhou’s appearance — otherwise, he wouldn’t have fallen for him at first sight.
He couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at him. Not only did he forget his original purpose, but he even ended up blushing slightly. Bai Qingzhou cast him a casual glance and asked, “Is there something wrong?” Only then did Xia Xinghe snap back to reality, steadying himself and shaking his head. “No.”
He thought to himself: Is this guy doing it on purpose? Why dress so good-looking just to stay home?!
Of course, Bai Qingzhou had no idea what Xia Xinghe was thinking. He lowered his eyes and asked, “Shall we begin?”
“Mm.” Xia Xinghe cut off his wandering thoughts and followed him to the backyard.
Bamboo, the dog, was still lying in its bed, its bright blue eyes staring out past the fence, looking as proud as ever. Its ears perked up at the sound of their footsteps, and it gave a bark, but unlike before, its movements were stiff and uneven as it limped toward them — a little pitiful.
Xia Xinghe’s heart softened. He squatted down, wanting to pet its head, but Bai Qingzhou, standing nearby, gave a light cough with a blank expression. Xia Xinghe’s hand froze midair, and he silently pulled it back.
He looked at Bamboo helplessly, silently thinking: It’s not that I don’t want to hug you, it’s just that the circumstances won’t allow it.
Before coming to the backyard, Bai Qingzhou had specifically warned Xia Xinghe that he could only watch from the side and was not allowed to approach. After all, rehabilitation is a painful process — if you go soft every time the dog acts cute, it’ll never reach the desired results.
“Bamboo, sit.”
Bai Qingzhou stood to the side and coldly gave the command.
Bamboo let out a little whine but instinctively sat down on the grass.
“Tuck in your legs.”
“Raise your head.”
Bamboo obeyed one by one.
Bai Qingzhou then threw a frisbee and told Bamboo, “Fetch it.”
Bamboo limped over to pick it up. Before it could fully stand, Bai Qingzhou had already tossed the frisbee again.
“Run faster.”
“Even faster.”
Bamboo panted heavily as it hobbled back and forth. Bai Qingzhou’s expression remained cold and emotionless. Eventually, Bamboo carefully nudged Bai Qingzhou’s pant leg with its nose, eyes glistening, clearly pleading not to continue.
Bai Qingzhou lowered his eyes slightly, paused, then once again threw the frisbee.
“Woof woof!”
Bamboo whined, refusing to move. Bai Qingzhou stared coldly at it. In the standoff, Xia Xinghe sighed helplessly, took two steps forward, and knelt beside the dog, gently stroking its back.
“Awoo~”
Bamboo’s tone instantly changed — full of grievance, as if it had endless sorrow to pour out. It practically tried to crawl entirely into Xia Xinghe’s arms, unwilling to even glance at Bai Qingzhou.
Xia Xinghe patted its head, frowning slightly as he looked at Bai Qingzhou. “You’re too harsh on him.”
Bai Qingzhou furrowed his brows and slowly approached. “It’s for his own good.”
“I know,” Xia Xinghe shielded Bamboo, “but does he know? Did you ever tell him? With that cold expression, how is he supposed to know if you’re being mean or doing it for his good?”
Bai Qingzhou was quiet for a moment. “He doesn’t understand things like that.”
His indifferent tone instantly lit a fire in Xia Xinghe.
“How do you know he doesn’t understand? Have you even tried to express anything to him?”
“…”
Silence was the only reply.
That made Xia Xinghe even angrier, and he couldn’t help but think of how the two of them used to get along.
With some resentment in his voice, Xia Xinghe spoke — though he was talking about Bamboo, he was also speaking about himself: “Sure, maybe you really do care about him. But doesn’t Bamboo have his own feelings? You don’t tell him anything and expect him to understand you, trust you unconditionally — that’s too domineering.”
Bai Qingzhou had always been like this — distant, self-contained, keeping everything inside. He never shared his thoughts, as if hiding behind frosted glass, impossible to see through.
Xia Xinghe would sometimes wonder if maybe Bai Qingzhou had once liked him. They did have sweet memories together. But in the end, maybe he hadn’t liked him enough — Bai Qingzhou never truly opened up to him.
He figured, maybe Bai Qingzhou just saw him as an amusing little pet — like Bamboo. Something to tease when he was in the mood, but not something he considered equal enough to explain things to.
“…Forget it,” Xia Xinghe said, rubbing Bamboo’s furry head and sighing. “You’re always like this. I can’t change you. You—”
“Then teach me.”
Bai Qingzhou suddenly interrupted.
“Xia Xinghe,” he lowered his gaze to look at him, those light brown eyes flickering slightly, “teach me how to express it.”