It’s His Dog
After seeing the white dog in the residential area, a new story slowly began to take shape in Xia Xinghe’s mind.
They say animals understand human nature. In this new story, he wanted to challenge himself by writing from the dog’s perspective—its view of human society and the various interactions it has with people.
Xia Xinghe was someone who acted quickly on his ideas. Once this concept came to him, he looked up plenty of relevant information, organized his thoughts, and sent them to his editor Yanmai for feedback.
Not long after, Yanmai replied.
[Editor Yanmai: Wow! This idea is so novel!][Editor Yanmai: Very few authors approach it from this perspective.]
[Editor Yanmai: But…]
[Little Bamboo: But what?]
Yanmai’s status showed “typing…” for a while before a message finally came through.
[Editor Yanmai: But you should mentally prepare yourself.][Editor Yanmai: Since it’s a new concept, there’s no guarantee it’ll be a hit.]
Xia Xinghe smiled faintly, his cheek dimples still clear.
[Little Bamboo: I know.][Little Bamboo: Don’t worry.]
In fact, before messaging Yanmai, he had already guessed this would be the reply.
Yanmai was a top-tier editor on the platform, with extensive experience in web novels and deep understanding of common tropes and patterns.
From a commercial standpoint, male readers preferred fast-paced power fantasy stories, while female readers favored slow-burning, emotional romance. Popular genres had been market-tested, but new ones were like raw jade buried under layers of clay—no one could predict what it would become once polished. That’s why many authors stuck to established templates, reusing successful formulas, or staying within their comfort zones writing the genres they were most familiar with.
Xia Xinghe didn’t dislike those genres. He enjoyed satisfying face-slapping stories, and also romantic tales that ended in happily-ever-afters to heal real-world regrets. But he didn’t want to be trapped by rigid patterns. He wanted to push his limits and try something fresh and new.
He chose this particular story because he truly liked it.
Beyond essential writing techniques, genuine emotion from the author could move readers—Xia Xinghe believed this deeply.
[Editor Yanmai: Haha, I knew you’d say that.][Editor Yanmai: You never play by the book anyway, I’m used to it.]
[Editor Yanmai: I believe in your ability and respect your judgment.]
[Editor Yanmai: Writer Bamboo is the coolest!]
Xia Xinghe chuckled at her last message, then composed himself and typed a reply seriously.
[Little Bamboo: Thank you.]….
The new story didn’t go as smoothly as Xia Xinghe had imagined.
A new concept meant stepping out of his comfort zone, and he had to find a new angle and way to tell the story. After all, crafting the story was one thing—presenting it compellingly to readers was another.
There’s always a gap between ideals and reality. Just the first chapter alone, Xia Xinghe wrote seven or eight versions, but none felt quite right. So he stopped forcing it, and instead started visiting the fluffy Samoyed every day.
After some time, he became quite familiar with the dog’s situation. The owner seemed to be away long-term, with only an hourly worker who came regularly to refill its food and water.
At first, he worried that the worker might chase him off, but after a few encounters, the worker just smiled politely and didn’t stop him. One day, they even exchanged a few words. The worker introduced himself as “Xiao Liu,” and only then did Xia Xinghe feel reassured. He would often flash a bright smile at Xiao Liu in return.
And seeing that the dog had regular meals, he stopped feeding it random snacks. Instead, he carried toys with him to play with it.
That day, the weather was pleasant. It was already late autumn, but the sun was shining. Xia Xinghe wore a comfortable T-shirt and jeans, with a backpack on his back. If not for his light-colored blonde hair, he might have been mistaken for a high school student.
Actually, keeping this hairstyle hadn’t been Xia Xinghe’s original intention. He had only planned to get a trim because his hair had grown out, but the stylist ended up coaxing him into this look with half-push, half-persuasion.
The stylist said, “Change your hairstyle, change your mood—it’s also a way to say goodbye to your past self.” Xia Xinghe thought it made sense, so he didn’t dye it back and just kept the current style.
When he got on the subway, Xia Xinghe, as usual, drew glances from nearby passengers. He had long since gotten used to it and didn’t particularly care. He found a seat, sat down, and pulled out his phone to scroll through Weibo.
The last novel he had written received a great response, and since it had only been half a month since it ended, it was still at peak popularity. Every time he logged in, he saw hundreds of new messages.
Xia Xinghe’s work appealed to a wide audience. Unlike most male authors whose writing followed a rigid, stereotypically straight male thought process, he occasionally wrote detailed and emotional scenes. Because of this, some readers would @ him or send private messages confessing their admiration. He understood this was just their way of expressing love for the stories and enjoyed interacting with them, so he usually replied to whatever he saw.
There were tons of messages, but Xia Xinghe replied to each one with care. By the time he had finally cleared out his inbox, the train was nearly at his stop.
He casually refreshed his homepage and liked a few funny pet videos. Suddenly, a Weibo message popped up:
[@nsxhss0905: Sorry, just saw this now.][@nsxhss0905: Congrats on finishing the story.]
[@nsxhss0905: I’ve been away on a business trip. Just got home today.]
It was a message from that long-time reader!
Ever since Xia Xinghe had last messaged him, he’d been quietly hoping for a reply. Now that it had finally come, he couldn’t help but smile.
[@Bamboo: Thank you~][@Bamboo: Your job sounds tiring. Hang in there!] [@nsxhss0905: Thanks.]
Xia Xinghe sent back a cute emoji. The other person didn’t respond again. It was a cold, almost distant tone—but Xia Xinghe’s smile lingered.
That cryptic reader felt like an old friend. They didn’t talk much, but just knowing the other person was still around gave him a sense of quiet reassurance.
“Next stop: Central City Hospital Station. Passengers transferring at this stop, please exit through the left doors. Mind the platform gap. Watch your step.”
The subway broadcast pulled Xia Xinghe out of his thoughts. He had arrived. He slipped his phone into his bag and followed the announcement to get off.
After passing a small garden thick with greenery, he reached the quiet, tucked-away residential compound. A dog was already waiting for him.
The moment it saw him, the big white dog wagged its tail excitedly. If not for the iron fence in the way, Xia Xinghe had no doubt it would’ve leapt right onto him.
“Xiao Bai (little white)!”
Xia Xinghe smiled and waved at it, quickly walking over.
“Xiao Bai” was the nickname Xia Xinghe had given the dog. He didn’t know its real name, so he had just picked one at random. Unexpectedly, the dog was very smart and quickly learned that Xia Xinghe was calling it. Even though it wasn’t its actual name, it responded every time.
“Woof woof!”
Xiao Bai barked happily, front paws resting on the fence. Xia Xinghe came closer and rubbed its fluffy head. Soft, downy fur slipped between his fingers, and Xia Xinghe’s eyes curved into a smile. “Good boy.”
“Woof!”
Xiao Bai seemed to understand. It obediently sat down, its wet eyes gazing up at Xia Xinghe—pure, expressive, and strangely moving, melting Xia Xinghe’s heart like a puddle.
So many animals are like that. On the surface, they may seem aloof or guarded, like they’re wrapped in tough armor. But once they’re familiar with you, they’ll roll over and show you their softest side without hesitation.
Xia Xinghe crouched down and stroked Xiao Bai along its spine, all the way to the tip of its fluffy tail. Xiao Bai liked having its belly rubbed, so it flipped over and gently nudged Xia Xinghe’s hand toward its stomach. Its bright eyes seemed to say: “Come on, rub it, please.”
Faced with such warmth, it was impossible to say no. Xia Xinghe rubbed for a while longer until his arms started to ache. Only then did he pull some toys out of his bag. Xiao Bai’s favorite was a yellow frisbee. The moment it saw it, it stood up, ready to dash after it.
“Xiao Bai! Go!”
With a shout, Xia Xinghe threw the frisbee with one hand. Xiao Bai shot off like a white arrow and joyfully trotted back with it. It clearly loved this game—it even looked like it was smiling when it came back.
Samoyeds had the build of wolves and the face of a fox. When serious, they looked stern and imposing. But when happy, they were a completely different sight—pink tongue out, mouth open in a grin, and sparkling stars in their dewy eyes.
Xia Xinghe threw the frisbee a few more times. Xiao Bai was quick and agile, catching it easily each time.
Once.
Twice.
And then, on the final throw, Xiao Bai caught the frisbee and started trotting back cheerfully—only to suddenly stop halfway. Its fluffy ears perked up, and the smile on its face disappeared in an instant. Its usual cold and aloof expression returned.
Then, as if remembering something, it quickly hid the frisbee in the bushes nearby.
Clever boy.
Xia Xinghe had a sudden feeling that the dog’s owner might be approaching. He quickly looked toward the yard.
He had always been curious to see who could raise such a smart, spirited dog. He had high expectations for the person—only to be met by someone he least wanted to see.
“Bai Qingzhou?”
Xia Xinghe frowned instinctively. “What are you doing here?”
Even though it came out as a question, in his heart, he already had a guess.
Fate really loved to joke with him. Again and again, it seemed determined to tangle him up with Bai Qingzhou.
Sure enough, Bai Qingzhou stopped about two meters away, glancing down at him with a cold expression.
“That should be my question,” he said flatly. “Why are you standing at my front door—and playing with my dog?”