The ancient town’s lights were dim, making the ground nearly impossible to see. Using his phone’s flashlight, Xia Xinghe shone it at his ankle—only to discover his entire foot had been caught in a mousetrap.
How could something like this even be here?
Hissing in pain, he crouched down, trying to pry the trap open with his hands. Blood trickled from the wound. Bai Qingzhou quickly reached his side.
“Don’t move!” Bai Qingzhou barked coldly.
Xia Xinghe froze for a moment, then saw Bai Qingzhou kneel down in front of him.
“Hold this.”
He handed over his phone, and Xia Xinghe obeyed, shining the not-so-bright light down. For once, Bai Qingzhou’s expression was filled with visible panic.
“Does it hurt here?”
“Can you move this part?”
“What about here?”
Bai Qingzhou pressed carefully around the wound, his questions rapid and unceasing.
“It’s okay.”
“I can move it.”
“This part hurts a bit.”
Xia Xinghe answered one by one, until finally Bai Qingzhou’s tightly knitted brows eased slightly.
“The bone doesn’t seem to be injured,” he said. “But the trap’s embedded too deeply. Pulling it out recklessly would make the bleeding worse. We’ll need to call an ambulance.”
Bai Qingzhou quickly made the judgment, taking the phone back and dialing 120, relaying the situation concisely.
His reaction was swift and orderly, handling everything step by step. Xia Xinghe sat there staring blankly at him, unable to say a word or interrupt.
After finishing the call, Bai Qingzhou handed the phone back.
“Hold this,” he instructed.
Blood was still flowing from Xia Xinghe’s wound. Before the ambulance arrived, he needed to stop the bleeding.
With no tools in the deserted countryside, Bai Qingzhou took off his own outer coat, twisted it into a strip, and tied it tightly around Xia Xinghe’s leg, about twenty centimeters above the wound, to help stem the bleeding.
The tense sensation came from his calf, and Xia Xinghe finally came back to his senses belatedly, unconsciously moving his leg.
“Does it hurt?”
Bai Qingzhou’s brows furrowed again, his hand holding Xia Xinghe’s calf.
Xia Xinghe shook his head, wanting to say it was fine, but then heard Bai Qingzhou speak in an icy tone.
“Of course it hurts,” he said. “Are you a three-year-old child? I take my eyes off you for a moment and you end up like this.”
Then he added, “Even a three-year-old knows how to take better care of themselves. You couldn’t see that huge mousetrap?”
“Count it yourself—since we met, how many times have you been hurt? Catching a cold so bad you ended up hospitalized, food allergies from eating carelessly, injuring your face for the sake of bravery, and now this… can’t you be a little more careful?”
His harsh tone left no room for leniency, instantly triggering all of Xia Xinghe’s pent-up grievances.
He had only come looking for him.
Earlier that night while chatting with Sheng Tianyi, Xia Xinghe had sensed something was wrong with Bai Qingzhou’s mood. But Sheng Tianyi had kept pestering him, keeping him from slipping away. By the time he noticed, Bai Qingzhou had already vanished.
Nie Xingchao said he had gone off for a walk alone, but Xia Xinghe still couldn’t rest easy. He waited downstairs for a long time without seeing him return, and finally decided to follow the road and look for him.
…Who knew he would accidentally step right into a mousetrap.
How was he supposed to know something like that would be here!
“Why are you yelling at me!”
Xia Xinghe sniffled, speaking aggrievedly. “Do you think I wanted to get hurt? If it weren’t for you insisting on coming to this place in the middle of the night, this wouldn’t have happened!”
“You didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t reply to my messages. I came because I was worried about you, and now somehow it’s my fault.”
The more Xia Xinghe spoke, the angrier he became. For the first time, Bai Qingzhou’s sudden temper felt completely unreasonable to him.
Anger and grievance almost burst out of his chest. Xia Xinghe suddenly yanked his leg from Bai Qingzhou’s grasp and struggled to stand, but Bai Qingzhou’s hand restrained him.
“Don’t move.”
He said it firmly.
“Let go of me!”
Xia Xinghe glared at him fiercely, so aggrieved his voice carried a sob. “Yes, I’m a three-year-old. I don’t know any better. Don’t trouble yourself worrying about me. I guess my good intentions are just wasted. From now on, we’ll stay out of each other’s—mmph!”
Xia Xinghe’s voice cut off abruptly.
Bai Qingzhou was kissing him.
The man gripped his wrist, pulling him into his arms, hot lips pressing against his.
No—it was more like biting and devouring.
Xia Xinghe’s heartbeat went into chaos, Bai Qingzhou’s breathing grew rapid.
He himself didn’t even know why he acted like this, only that instinct had taken over.
He didn’t want Xia Xinghe to leave. Didn’t want him angry. Didn’t want him close to others. And he especially didn’t want him hurt. Too many emotions tangled together, erupting in this moment, turning into a storm of kisses, shattering the cold shell and the mask of calm he always wore.
Back when he was young, at the age where crying could earn candy, no one ever told him that if you liked someone you should fight for them out loud. So later, no matter how much he liked someone, he always hid it behind indifference, afraid of losing.
He knew he had many bad tempers—fickle, unreasonable. He knew he couldn’t express love properly, had tasted its bitterness, yet still couldn’t let go.
“Don’t leave…”
Bai Qingzhou murmured, his tone clumsy.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“I was just… worried about you.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“I didn’t know what to do.”
Xia Xinghe opened his mouth. “Aren’t you a doctor? You don’t know what to do?”
“…”
After a pause, Bai Qingzhou’s voice sounded deflated. “Because it’s you.”
He could stay calm and collected during a major surgery, yet in front of Xia Xinghe, a small injury made him lose all composure—made him worry, made him afraid—because no amount of knowledge could overcome even a fraction of raw instinct.
The night wind was low and heavy, rustling through the leaves. Bai Qingzhou’s fingertips brushed over Xia Xinghe’s hair, pale eyes gazing at him with such tenderness.
“Xia Xinghe,” he said softly, “be good. Don’t make my heart ache anymore, alright?”
The light voice drifted on the night breeze, yet inside Xia Xinghe’s heart it roared like a hurricane.
A drizzle of spring rain fell into his chest, smoothing out the crumpled ache, filling his heart until it nearly overflowed.
Even though Bai Qingzhou had already said he was pursuing him, Xia Xinghe never really felt it. It was like stepping onto a cloud, dreamlike and unreal, too fragile to confirm.
Past scars ran too deep, and he couldn’t see through Bai Qingzhou’s true feelings. Not until now—now, when he was held tightly in his arms, when those eyes looked straight into him—did he finally feel his sincerity.
Xia Xinghe drew a deep breath and called gently, “Bai Qingzhou.”
“Mm?”
He asked, “When you said you were pursuing me before… did you mean it?”
He lifted his gaze, his beautiful peach blossom eyes shimmering with starlight—so bright, just like years ago. One look was enough to make Bai Qingzhou fall all over again.
Uncontrollable, irresistible.
So Bai Qingzhou lowered his head, kissing Xia Xinghe’s lips once more.
Teeth clashed, lips and tongues tangled, the taste of blood spread across their tongues, ragged breaths mixing together. The chirping insects, the calling birds, even the pain in his leg—all of it vanished.
Overwhelming emotions poured out through their kiss. Light exploded behind his eyes, and Xia Xinghe finally closed them, drifting and sinking with Bai Qingzhou.
Air grew thinner and thinner, until Xia Xinghe nearly suffocated before Bai Qingzhou finally released him.
“Do you believe me now?”
Bai Qingzhou’s voice was hoarse as he asked.
Their lips were already torn, the sting lingering. Bai Qingzhou’s fingers brushed gently over Xia Xinghe’s lips. His heartbeat pounded against his chest, and Xia Xinghe at last made up his mind.
He lifted his head slightly and took the initiative to kiss Bai Qingzhou on the lips.
His murmured voice melted into the kiss as Xia Xinghe said, “Let’s give it another try.”
Just like this.
Xia Xinghe thought, this is enough.
Perhaps it was impulsive, or perhaps it was inevitable.
He was no longer the naïve, reckless boy of the past. He had been hurt, shed tears, learned fear, learned retreat. But a young man’s heart that once stirred would remain eternal—he couldn’t suppress his feelings for Bai Qingzhou.
He knew there were still many problems between them—different personalities, different ways of expressing, and the scars of the past standing between them, reminding them of failure.
So many reasons why they weren’t suited. But in this moment, the love he felt was real, so clear, that it gave him the courage to try again.
The ambulance arrived late, its unique siren wailing from afar. Its bright headlights suddenly shone upon them, dazzling like the arrival of dawn.
Bai Qingzhou’s Adam’s apple moved slightly as he said, “Alright.”