Are You Barking Like a Dog?
If Xia Xinghe had known Bai Qingzhou worked at this hospital, he would’ve never come here, convenience be damned.
It wasn’t because of anything new. It’s just… exes. Breakups always end messily.
They were once the envy of everyone during college, with more than enough sweet memories. But when they broke up, it was dramatic.
To top it off, it rained the day they split. In a heavy downpour, Bai Qingzhou had cornered Xia Xinghe outside the dorm, cold and unrelenting.
“Break up?” He looked down at Xia Xinghe, eyes already icy, now frozen solid. “Are you sure? Don’t regret it.”
Xia Xinghe couldn’t remember exactly what he said—probably something cruel—because it was the first and only time he saw Bai Qingzhou lose his temper.
Bai Qingzhou’s thin lips pressed tightly together, eyes burning with restrained fury. Xia Xinghe didn’t back down, meeting his gaze head-on. But then Bai Qingzhou looked away, coldly muttering, “Fine,” tossed an umbrella at him, and walked off into the storm without looking back.
Thunder crashed. Rain poured. It was like a break-up scene straight out of a romance drama.
Only in dramas, the couple always finds a way back to each other. Reality isn’t so generous. When things end ugly, chances of rekindling are slim.
Which made seeing each other again like this even more awkward—at least for Xia Xinghe.
Right now, Xia Xinghe was in a loose hospital gown, hair casually tied back, eyes and nose flushed pink, voice soft and nasal—basically, looking pitifully delicate.
Meanwhile, Bai Qingzhou looked like time had only made him better: still handsome, still composed. The gold-rimmed glasses added a reserved, serious charm. The white coat only highlighted his maturity. If anything had changed in four years, it was that he’d grown even more refined—like aged wine.
Countless times, Xia Xinghe had imagined what it would be like to meet Bai Qingzhou again.
The best version? They’d bump into each other on the street. Bai Qingzhou would be down on his luck, while Xia Xinghe would be confident and thriving. He’d greet him warmly, then sigh with relief—Thank God we broke up.
…Okay, even Xia Xinghe knew Bai Qingzhou failing was a stretch. But did it really have to be this reversed? Bai Qingzhou was calm, successful, and flawless—and Xia Xinghe was sick, disheveled, and caught at his worst.
It was a disaster.
Nobody likes to lose face, especially in front of an ex. Xia Xinghe opened his mouth to speak, but Nie Xingchao beat him to it.
“Qingzhou? What are you doing here?”
His eyes flicked between them. “Wait, you two know each other?”
Bai Qingzhou replied, “Yeah.”
His gaze shifted to Xia Xinghe, and he added coolly, “Pretty well.”
Xia Xinghe choked. He wanted to argue, but didn’t know how. Just one word difference—“boyfriend” versus “ex-boyfriend”—yet the meaning couldn’t be more different.
“Well, what a coincidence,” Nie Xingchao chuckled, oblivious to Xia Xinghe’s discomfort. He relaxed and started nagging in earnest. “Since you’re friends, I’ll be blunt. Xia Xinghe’s still young—he needs to fix his lifestyle.”
“Less staying up late, more rest. And take your medicine on time, okay?”
He turned to Bai Qingzhou. “Qingzhou, you’re a doctor. As a friend, help keep him in check. He’s already in the hospital and still forgets his meds. Stays up half the night. Who knows how bad his habits are otherwise?”
Bai Qingzhou looked at Xia Xinghe, something unreadable in his eyes. Xia Xinghe lowered his head, wishing he could disappear.
Dr. Nie’s words cut deep. Every sentence hit a nerve.
Back when they were together, it wasn’t Xia Xinghe who stayed up late—it was Bai Qingzhou.
He was harsh on himself, always striving to be perfect, almost like a robot. Xia Xinghe had worried sick, constantly coaxing him to sleep earlier. He’d send cheesy health articles, practically glued to Bai Qingzhou’s side trying to “tuck him in.”
Once they moved in together, it got easier. Every night, Xia Xinghe would snuggle close. Young and full of energy, Bai Qingzhou would eventually get fed up and drag him off to bed—for “punishment.” Bit by bit, they formed a habit of going to bed early.
But now? Tables turned. It was Xia Xinghe who stayed up late, burning the candle at both ends.
Four years had passed. He thought those memories were distant, but now they came back, painfully vivid.
It was frustrating—everything had changed, yet he was still stuck in the past.
Xia Xinghe opened his mouth, ready to say he’d take care of himself and didn’t need anyone to worry about him. But before he could speak, Bai Qingzhou answered for him.
“Alright.”
Bai Qingzhou looked straight at him, lips lifting slightly. “I’ll make sure he takes care of himself.”
“Good,” Nie Xingchao grinned. “Nice, that’s what I call a real friend.”
Nie Xingchao nodded. “Anyway, we’re all in the same hospital building. Come visit Xiao Xia more often.”
Bai Qingzhou agreed, “Mm.”
Come see him for what?
See him take his medicine, or watch him get an IV?
Xia Xinghe quickly figured it out. Old lovers meeting again were bound to feel bitter. Bai Qingzhou was probably taking the chance to mock him.
Everyone’s had that thought — when a breakup ends badly and the ex is doing poorly, it’s like confirmation that ending things with you was a huge mistake and loss.
Makes sense, too. He was the one who initiated the breakup, and someone as proud as Bai Qingzhou probably felt humiliated.
Xia Xinghe gave a bitter smile. Clearly, it was Bai Qingzhou who had been heartless, yet now he looked like the jerk.
……
Over the next two days, Bai Qingzhou really did come to Xia Xinghe’s hospital room like he was clocking in. He didn’t do much — just came to check if Xia Xinghe was taking his meds on time.
Every time Nie Xingchao saw it, he would sigh and comment on how close they were, then use it as a chance to nag Xia Xinghe: reminding him to take his medicine, maintain a proper routine, always with the same few phrases:
“Look how much Qingzhou cares about you — you should behave properly. Otherwise, word will get out that Dr. Bai’s friend is all sick and miserable. That’d be so embarrassing for him.”
Xia Xinghe felt helpless but amused.
He thought, He’s not concerned about me. He’s probably wishing I looked even worse.
But that wasn’t even what was bothering Xia Xinghe the most.
Bai Qingzhou was usually busy, and each visit lasted no more than three to five minutes before someone called him away. In contrast, the nurses and interns in his department had a lot more free time. Since Bai Qingzhou was famously aloof and indifferent, the one place he frequently visited — Xia Xinghe’s room — became the most desirable “hot spot” for all the young women.
Xia Xinghe was naturally sociable and could warm up to anyone in a few sentences. Seeing how easygoing and chatty he was, the nurses and interns practically gave this regular patient VIP treatment, swarming his room whenever they had a free moment.
Normally, this wouldn’t bother Xia Xinghe. He didn’t mind chatting and joking around. But he was nearing the end of a story he was writing and had hit a block. With the constant interruptions from the girls, and being too polite to turn them away, he couldn’t write a single word all day.
He’d already taken a few days off. Even his editor couldn’t help but privately message him to rush the update.
[Editor Yanmai]: Bamboo QAQ, when can we expect an update?[Editor Yanmai]: Another humble day of waiting for Bamboo-sama to update (:з」∠)
[Editor Yanmai]: Look at today’s round sun — doesn’t it remind you of the draft you need to write?
Yanmai was Xia Xinghe’s editor. They had worked together for years. Despite her cute and soft messages, she was a master at chasing deadlines. Xia Xinghe felt bad for stalling her like this and figured he should probably clear the air with Bai Qingzhou sooner or later.
What’s the worst that could happen? Xia Xinghe thought. It’s not like I haven’t embarrassed myself in front of him before.
They’d done far more intimate things than argue. He’d experienced far more painful emotions too. A little awkwardness wouldn’t scare him now.
That afternoon, Bai Qingzhou came to “visit” as usual. As always, he didn’t say much and looked like he was about to leave as soon as he arrived. Gritting his teeth, Xia Xinghe spoke up and called out to him.
“Bai Qingzhou.”
Calling that familiar yet distant name out aloud, Xia Xinghe’s heart skipped a beat. It had clearly been four years since he last said it, but his body still remembered the way it used to feel.
“Mm?”
Bai Qingzhou was already at the door. At the sound of his name, he turned back, his gaze landing on Xia Xinghe past the hospital bed.
He was always like this — distant and cold — but whenever he spoke to someone, he would look them directly in the eye. His light brown eyes were clear and calm, and it often made people feel as though they were the only one in his world.
Too easy to get lost in.
Xia Xinghe took a deep breath and instinctively looked away.
“If you have something to say, say it now. Dragging it out is pointless.”
“…”
Bai Qingzhou paused for two seconds, then walked quickly back to his bedside.
“Alright.” He didn’t hesitate. He cut straight to the point.
“Do you have a boyfriend now?”
Xia Xinghe replied, “No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
As Bai Qingzhou asked, Xia Xinghe’s nose inexplicably started to sting.
He was the one who told Bai Qingzhou to speak his mind — and now that he actually was, he couldn’t help feeling a little wronged.
Xia Xinghe had been a late bloomer when it came to relationships. Bai Qingzhou had been his first love. But after that, no one else ever came close. He never liked anyone again.
After they broke up, he deliberately avoided following Bai Qingzhou’s life — yet still couldn’t help secretly gathering information.
He’d heard that Bai Qingzhou went abroad for a PhD.
He’d heard about how many SCI papers he’d published overseas.
He’d heard that after returning home, he came back to Liaohu Hospital.
But when it came to Bai Qingzhou’s love life — that, he didn’t dare ask.
Over the years, had Bai Qingzhou ever met someone who truly moved him?
Xia Xinghe didn’t want to know.
His thoughts were a mess, drifting further and further. Suddenly, he heard Bai Qingzhou call his name.
“Xia Xinghe.”
His name, spoken by this man, was familiar yet tinged with something soft and intimate. Xia Xinghe’s heart skipped, and he realized Bai Qingzhou had somehow come much closer without him noticing.
They were now less than half a meter apart — close enough for Xia Xinghe to catch the faint, minty scent of Bai Qingzhou’s cologne.
Xia Xinghe closed his eyes.
“Just say it.”
Whether it was to mock him for still being unable to take care of himself at his age, or to laugh at how he hadn’t found anyone new after all these years — he was ready.
The hospital room grew silent — so quiet that Xia Xinghe could hear the loud thumping of his own heart.
Bai Qingzhou called his name again, and then, in a low, slightly hesitant voice, said:
“…Woof.”
Xia Xinghe’s eyes flew open.
Did he just hallucinate?
Did he just hear Bai Qingzhou bark?