What’s Its Name
Xia Xinghe was half-squatting, and Bai Qingzhou looked down at him from above, exuding a natural sense of pressure. Xia Xinghe rubbed his earlobe and stood up, instinctively replying, “I was just passing by…”
“Just passing by?”
Bai Qingzhou raised an eyebrow slightly, his gaze landing near Xia Xinghe’s feet. Following his line of sight hesitantly, Xia Xinghe looked down—and immediately froze.
His bag lay on the ground not far away, with various toys scattered around: bouncy balls, chew sticks… obviously dog toys.
And that wasn’t all. Seeing its owner return, Xiao Bai drooped its head guiltily, as if admitting a mistake. After a moment, it even trotted over with a frisbee it had hidden in the bushes, carefully placing it in front of Xia Xinghe and nudging it toward him with its nose, its wet eyes blinking innocently, as if saying, I’m done playing, here’s your toy back.
Xia Xinghe: “…”
This dog really might be too smart.
Bai Qingzhou looked at him with a faint, amused smile. “Xiao Liu told me that while I was away, a blonde guy came every day to play with the dog… Was that you?”
It was phrased as a question, but spoken with certainty.
Xia Xinghe knew there was no point denying it, so he simply admitted it. “Yeah, it was me.”
There was no way to deny it anyway—the evidence was all right there.
Xia Xinghe crouched down again and began gathering the scattered toys, one by one, stuffing them back into his backpack: two new rubber balls, then Xiao Bai’s favorite frisbee. A couple of green leaves were stuck to the frisbee; Xia Xinghe brushed them off with his fingers and placed it on top.
“Sorry,” he said softly, keeping his tone calm. “I didn’t know it was your dog. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
He packed up quickly, slung the backpack over one shoulder, and turned to leave with a casual air. But Xiao Bai blinked and seemed to realize the seriousness of the situation. Barking twice, it suddenly lunged forward and grabbed the strap of Xia Xinghe’s backpack through the metal railing.
“Woof! Woof!”
Clearly anxious and unwilling to let him go.
Xia Xinghe didn’t know whether to laugh or scold. He patted the dog on the head lightly and said in a low voice, “Xiao Bai, let go!”
But Xiao Bai just whimpered and bit down harder, even tugging him back toward the gate.
Xia Xinghe: “…”
“Looks like he really likes you,” Bai Qingzhou said mildly. “You two get along well.”
It sounded like praise, but there was something layered underneath.
Getting along well with your ex’s dog—no matter how you explain it—would always seem a little suspicious.
So Xia Xinghe didn’t respond, just lowered his head and focused on freeing his bag.
It was early autumn, and he was dressed simply—white T-shirt, jeans, a backpack slung on both shoulders, no different from their college days.
Time didn’t seem to have left much of a mark on him. He was still full of youthful energy, with his light blond hair tied into a little ponytail at the back, swinging as he moved—possibly even livelier and cuter than before.
Xiao Bai still refused to let go, nuzzling against Xia Xinghe’s hand with soft whimpers. Xia Xinghe, half amused and half exasperated, made a playful clawing motion to scare him off. A faint dimple appeared at the corner of his lips, subtle yet enough to stir ripples deep in one’s heart.
Bai Qingzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly before he suddenly asked, “Want to come in for a bit?”
Xia Xinghe looked up in surprise, not believing those words had come from Bai Qingzhou.
“Ahem.” Bai Qingzhou cleared his throat and looked at the dog beside him. “That’s what he wants.”
“He says thank you for taking care of him these past few days and would like to invite you in… Right?”
As if understanding what his owner was saying, Xiao Bai barked twice and finally released Xia Xinghe. It crouched with its front legs on the grass, looking like it was saying, Yes, yes, come play with me! Bai Qingzhou also looked at Xia Xinghe, his pale eyes unreadable.
Something in one of those pairs of eyes stirred Xia Xinghe’s heart. In a moment of confusion, he agreed.
“…Okay.”
…
Still somewhat dazed and bewildered, Xia Xinghe found himself sitting on Bai Qingzhou’s living room sofa.
The room’s decor matched Bai Qingzhou’s personality—black and white, minimalist. Even the sofa was black leather. The only splash of color was the pink food bowl and water dispenser in the corner, oddly out of place yet somehow adding a hint of warmth to the otherwise cold decor.
Sitting on the chilly sofa, Xia Xinghe unconsciously glanced around. When his eyes landed on the shoe cabinet by the door, he suddenly noticed a large black suitcase next to it.
Had Bai Qingzhou just returned from a business trip?
Xia Xinghe did a quick calculation and realized this trip had lasted nearly a month.
He looked at Bai Qingzhou, trying to spot signs of travel fatigue, but apart from slightly tanned skin, there were no other traces of exhaustion.
…It really did echo what people used to say at school: “The projects change, but Bai Qingzhou never does.”
“Would you like something to drink?”
That clear voice snapped Xia Xinghe out of his thoughts.
Bai Qingzhou was standing in front of the fridge, one hand resting on the door, calmly looking at him. Xia Xinghe hesitated, about to speak, when Bai Qingzhou beat him to it with a very natural addition: “There’s no orange juice.”
As soon as the words fell, both of them stiffened.
Xia Xinghe pinched his fingertips lightly—he hadn’t expected Bai Qingzhou to remember that.
When they had first started living together, Xia Xinghe had been obsessed with a certain brand of orange juice. He would buy a bottle every other day. The bottles were small and cute, decorated with a little blue cartoon figure.
Then one day, during a supermarket promotion, Xia Xinghe brought home an entire case. He knew Bai Qingzhou didn’t like sweet drinks, so he had calculated how long it would take him to finish it himself. But when he got to the last few, one bottle was mysteriously missing.
He had asked Bai Qingzhou if he’d seen it. Bai Qingzhou, without a hint of guilt, had pointed to the trash can. “It’s there.”
Xia Xinghe had fumed: “That was mine!”
Bai Qingzhou had lazily lifted his eyelids and said, “Is there a difference between yours and mine?”
Expressionless as he was, it still made Xia Xinghe blush.
After that, for a long time, orange juice became the most common drink in the fridge at home. Bai Qingzhou, who never drank sugary beverages, was “reluctantly” swayed by Xia Xinghe into accepting orange juice.
“Reluctantly” was Bai Qingzhou’s own word—but in truth, he drank almost as much as Xia Xinghe did.
Four years passed, and habits changed without notice. Later on, Xia Xinghe felt that brand of orange juice was too sweet and rarely drank it anymore, but the memory of it stayed deeply lodged in his mind, like a brilliant, shining speck of light.
While he was dazed, Bai Qingzhou had already opened the fridge. His face showed no hint of discomfort anymore as he asked, “Is chilled soda water okay?”
“Sure.”
Xia Xinghe nodded, not continuing down the path of memories.
Bai Qingzhou tossed a bottle of soda water to Xia Xinghe, took one for himself, twisted it open, took a swig, and casually set it down on the coffee table. Xiao Bai was quietly sitting between the two of them, its furry head nudging Xia Xinghe’s leg—ticklish, but utterly silent.
Xia Xinghe rested a hand on its head and casually asked, “Why’d you suddenly decide to get a dog?”
He’d begged him several times before, and Bai Qingzhou had always refused. Now suddenly, he’d gone and gotten one himself—an enormous, troublesome breed at that.
Bai Qingzhou was silent for a moment, then picked up the soda water and took another sip before asking, “Is there a problem?”
“…No.”
Seeing he didn’t want to answer, Xia Xinghe quietly changed the subject. “What’s its name?”
He thought, Surely he can’t avoid answering this one. And then he heard Bai Qingzhou’s indifferent voice say:
“Bamboo.”
Xia Xinghe: “…?”
This dog is called Bamboo?
Isn’t that his own WeChat name?
Xia Xinghe processed it in his head, and then broke into a helpless laugh.
Bai Qingzhou had named a dog the same as him—what more obvious message could there be?
Even if Bamboo wasn’t human, Bai Qingzhou really was a dog!