Xia Xinghe had said something similar when they broke up. Later, when they saw each other again, Xia Xinghe didn’t even remember the silly “barking” agreement. Bai Qingzhou had taken it as an excuse Xia Xinghe used to casually end things.
But now, Xia Xinghe’s tone was much more serious. There was a faint nasal tone in his voice, full of such grievance it made one’s heart ache.
Bai Qingzhou’s fingers brushed across his lips again. He leaned in closer and softly asked, “In what way do I not like you?”
Bai Qingzhou felt he had already made it clear enough.
He came out early—and Xia Xinghe had been his first love. There were things he couldn’t say out loud, but the deep feelings had quietly built up over the years and never faded.
Back then, many people had pursued him, but he only silently allowed Xia Xinghe to stay by his side. Even he hadn’t realized it was love at first. He didn’t know exactly when it began. But once his heart was moved, it was forever. And after realizing it, his gaze never left Xia Xinghe again.
He attended classes with him, highlighted key points for him, even helped him study while struggling with his own overwhelming workload. Bai Qingzhou had never wasted time on others before, yet he kept breaking his own rules for Xia Xinghe—and he did so willingly, even joyfully.
Xia Xinghe was like a radiant light source, the brightest star. Wherever he went, everything lit up. It was as if he were the embodiment of all that was good in the world. Even the coldest person couldn’t help but smile when they saw him.
Eventually, every plan Bai Qingzhou made for the future had Xia Xinghe in it—until Xia Xinghe tore it all up with a cold, emotionless breakup.
Bai Qingzhou had once been so proud, a golden boy who never bowed his head to anyone. His talent gave him his arrogance.
And yet, after falling in love like any ordinary person, he was cruelly discarded. There was no greater loss of dignity. Even so, he still couldn’t forget Xia Xinghe. He went abroad and came back. When they met again, he set aside his pride and reached out to reconcile.
Bai Qingzhou thought, I even barked like a dog for him—if that’s not love, then what is?
Xia Xinghe’s eyes were shut. He gave no reply.
Bai Qingzhou silently looked at him, his fingers stubbornly rubbing again and again over Xia Xinghe’s lips, as if fighting with himself. He didn’t take it any further, but he also couldn’t let go.
His long fingers were calloused—scars from years of holding a scalpel. Xia Xinghe flinched in pain and furrowed his brows.
“…Bai Qingzhou.”
He was calling his name again.
“Bai Qingzhou.”
Another soft call.
Whispering, like he had secretly repeated the name thousands of times.
“Bai Qingzhou,” he said, “…it hurts.”
A bitter ache flooded Bai Qingzhou’s heart, as if countless silver needles had stabbed into it.
He abruptly released his hand—only to see Xia Xinghe’s lips red and swollen, slightly torn at one corner.
“…Sorry.”
Bai Qingzhou stared at his fingertips, not daring to touch him again.
The night had grown deep, but Bai Qingzhou had no trace of sleepiness. He turned off the lights and sat in the darkness, watching Xia Xinghe for a long time. Then he walked to the window and looked out. Through the thick smog, only a few stars could be seen.
Dawn followed night. At some point, the sky began to lighten.
Bai Qingzhou stood in the cold by the window all night, while Xia Xinghe slept peacefully.
The bed was perfectly soft and firm. The lingering scent in the air was familiar and dreamlike. Xia Xinghe had a long, sweet dream—Bai Qingzhou gently wiped the sweat from his forehead and held him tenderly in his arms.
It was such a beautiful dream that when Xia Xinghe opened his eyes in a daze, he didn’t immediately register where he was.
After a hangover, his whole body felt weak. His vision was blurry. He sat up slowly, rubbing his head—and suddenly caught sight of Bai Qingzhou’s back at the window.
“…Bai Qingzhou?”
His memories from before he fell asleep came flooding back. Xia Xinghe frowned and asked tentatively, “Did you… bring me back last night?”
Bai Qingzhou turned at the sound and glanced at him. “Mm.”
Xia Xinghe’s memories after drinking were a complete mess—blurry and indistinct. He couldn’t figure out what was real and what he had imagined. Seeing himself lying in bed with his clothes unbuttoned, he opened his mouth hesitantly and asked,
“We didn’t… do anything last night, did we?”
All he could recall was Bai Qingzhou bringing him home and saying something to him. He seemed to have said something back. Something might’ve happened between them, but the details were completely gone.
Xia Xinghe’s eyes were filled with confusion and a touch of fear of the unknown. His pupils were still clear, like a spring brook thawing after winter. Bai Qingzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and he coolly said one word:
“Yes.”
“What?!” Xia Xinghe was shocked.
Did he do something outrageous to Bai Qingzhou while drunk?
He glanced nervously at Bai Qingzhou.
His clothes were intact, his skin clean, and aside from a faint dark circle under his eyes, there were no suspicious marks.
That dark shadow must’ve just been from lack of sleep—it had nothing to do with him. Just as Xia Xinghe was about to breathe a sigh of relief, thinking he couldn’t have had the guts to do anything too bold, he heard Bai Qingzhou’s indifferent voice:
“Because of you, I didn’t sleep all night.”
“…?”
“You slept in my bed.”
“…Huh?”
Xia Xinghe looked at the bed beneath him, then instinctively argued, “Don’t you have a guest room?”
“No.”
“At least a sofa, right?”
“You threw up all over it.”
As hazy fragments floated back into his mind, Xia Xinghe started to feel guilty.
He vaguely remembered vomiting on the sofa… and nearly throwing up on Bai Qingzhou’s face.
Game over.
Bai Qingzhou had such a serious cleanliness obsession—it was a miracle he hadn’t thrown him out.
“…I’m really sorry,”
Xia Xinghe scratched his head awkwardly, lowering his eyes, “Can it still be cleaned? If not, just tell me how much it costs and I’ll pay you back…”
That pitiful tone could melt anyone’s heart, especially when his eyes were still a bit red from just waking up drunk. Bai Qingzhou suddenly blurted, “No need,” but seeing Xia Xinghe’s confused look, he awkwardly added:
“It’s a custom piece from France. Can’t be cleaned locally—it needs to be sent back to the manufacturer. I’ll send you the repair estimate once I get it.”
“Okay… I’m really sorry…”
Xia Xinghe scratched his hair again. The fine strands became messy and fell loosely around his ears. A fleeting image surfaced in his mind, and after thinking for a moment, he apologized again, this time uncertain:
“Also, I blacked out yesterday. I might’ve crossed some lines… If I said anything weird, just ignore it, okay?”
Ignore it?
What did he mean by ignore it?
Ignore whispering that he liked him?
For some reason, Bai Qingzhou suddenly remembered what Yan Cai had said earlier:
“Don’t let him cry again.”
Did Xia Xinghe really cry because of him?
Bai Qingzhou lowered his eyes, scrutinizing the person before him, searching for any clues—but saw nothing in Xia Xinghe’s expression.
As he thought back, he realized the Xia Xinghe in his memories was always smiling. Except when he was pushed too far from the messing around all night and cried with red eyes, he was always radiant and expressive. He couldn’t imagine what Xia Xinghe would look like crying for real.
Xia Xinghe was being watched so intently that he became self-conscious. He gave a sheepish smile, but it tugged at the wound on his lip and made him wince in pain.
His lips were still a bit swollen and broken. Despite the pain, the corners of his mouth lifted, showing off the dimples on his cheeks.
Smiling even while in pain—Bai Qingzhou suddenly realized that maybe Xia Xinghe wasn’t as carefree and heartless as he’d always thought.
For the first time, he wondered if there had been a misunderstanding between them that neither ever brought up—or maybe some feelings had never been expressed and were lost to time.
“You…”
Bai Qingzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed again. He suddenly wanted to ask why Xia Xinghe had broken up with him back then. But the words stopped at his throat, swallowed by the pride he’d carried for years.
“What?” Xia Xinghe looked up and asked.
His clear eyes showed no lingering affection—just like when he left back then—so decisive.
Bai Qingzhou changed the subject and muttered,
“…Nothing.”
That one moment of hesitation sealed it—time would offer no chance to undo it. As soon as he finished speaking, a sudden phone call broke the silence.
Xia Xinghe’s phone was vibrating. He smiled apologetically at Bai Qingzhou, turned his back, and answered it.
“Hello? What is it, Mom?”
On the other end, Qiu Guiyue’s voice was anxious:
“Xinghe, can you get a ticket to come home in the next couple of days? Can you come back earlier?”
Her urgency made Xia Xinghe’s right eyelid twitch involuntarily.
“Did something happen?”
“We’ll talk when you’re here. I can’t explain it well over the phone.”
Qiu Guiyue paused, her tone deflating.
“It’s your dad. Something happened. It’s not looking too good.”
Xia Xinghe’s heart clenched tightly. His tone immediately turned serious.
“Got it. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
After hanging up, Xia Xinghe furrowed his brows and quickly jumped out of bed to fix his messy clothes—completely forgetting that Bai Qingzhou was still in the room.
“What happened?” Bai Qingzhou asked.
While hopping as he put on his shoes, Xia Xinghe answered,
“Something’s come up at home—I have to hurry back.”
He bent down to grab his shoes, stood up, and rushed to leave—only to have Bai Qingzhou grab his arm.
“What are you doing?”
Xia Xinghe, clearly in a hurry, said,
“I’ll pay you back later, I promise I’m not skipping town.”
Bai Qingzhou didn’t respond to that. Instead, he asked,
“You’re going home? Back to Liu’an?”
Xia Xinghe nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you buy the ticket?”
“……”
He had been in such a rush to leave that after hanging up the phone, he ran out immediately—completely forgetting about the ticket. His home was over a thousand kilometers away, and with the Spring Festival approaching, high-speed train tickets were already sold out.
Seeing Xia Xinghe’s stunned expression, Bai Qingzhou let out a faint sigh. He temporarily pushed aside his earlier thoughts, opened his phone, tapped swiftly on the screen, and looked up to ask, “How about a flight at 3 PM?”
Xia Xinghe turned his head abruptly. “That works!”
Bai Qingzhou gave a slight nod and calmly took Xia Xinghe back to his place to pack. They didn’t even have time to meet the cleaner he had scheduled. Soon, Bai Qingzhou was driving him to the airport.
The airport was in the suburbs, and as the car sped down the road, the number of vehicles gradually dwindled.
Bai Qingzhou drove fast, but steadily. His hands rested on the steering wheel, and his profile was almost flawless.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Xia Xinghe’s heart was racing.
Maybe it was just from the urgency—or maybe, mixed in were other feelings as well.
When they arrived at the airport, it was just in time for security check-in. Bai Qingzhou stayed with Xia Xinghe as he collected his ticket and checked in his luggage, then accompanied him to the security gate.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Contact me anytime if something happens.”
The tone was still cold, the expression distant, yet it had an inexplicable ability to calm people.
“…Thank you,” Xia Xinghe said softly.
“Mhm.” Bai Qingzhou reached out and gently ruffled his hair like a form of comfort. “Go on.”
The airport announcements echoed through the terminal. Xia Xinghe quickly went through the security check.
The process was long and complicated. There were many people around, and after passing checkpoint after checkpoint, he had already walked quite far from the entrance.
A thick glass wall stood between them, with a crowd constantly flowing back and forth, blocking the view.
The announcements overhead repeated again and again, their echoes bouncing off the wide ceiling. Suddenly, a noise broke out from the crowd behind him, and Xia Xinghe turned instinctively to look.
Nothing had happened. Everything around him remained the same—passengers hurrying to and fro. The once noisy terminal had also quieted down.
Xia Xinghe turned his gaze back, ready to continue walking, but as he glanced from another angle, he suddenly spotted a familiar figure among the crowd.
It was Bai Qingzhou.
He was still standing in the same spot, silently watching in the direction he had left, never having moved.
It was as if the gentle touch on his head just now still lingered. Xia Xinghe, dazed, reached out his hand.
His fingers brushed through invisible strands of hair—his heartbeat quickened.