Remembering Yesterday
The short, low “woof” cut through the air — and just as quickly disappeared without a trace.
Xia Xinghe instinctively looked up, hoping to find some clue in Bai Qingzhou’s expression—only to meet his indifferent gaze directly.
Cold and devoid of any warmth.
…He must’ve misheard.
Xia Xinghe shook his head, pushing away the strange thought. There was no way—Bai Qingzhou, of all people, barking like a dog?
He held his breath, waiting for Bai Qingzhou to say something more, but the man remained silent. The air fell still. Feeling awkward, Xia Xinghe gave a light cough and asked, “Sorry, what did you say just now?… I didn’t quite catch it.”
Bai Qingzhou stood by the bed, looking down at him from above, his gaze heavy and intense as if trying to see right through him. Xia Xinghe subconsciously pressed his lips together—then saw Bai Qingzhou’s lips move slightly, as he once again uttered a single word:
“…Woof.”
Xia Xinghe: “!”
This time, he heard it clearly. It was a bark.
The man’s voice was still cold and emotionless, but the pronunciation was clear.
Bai Qingzhou had actually barked like a dog?
Xia Xinghe was completely stunned.
Was this some new way of humiliating your ex?
“Woof?” Xia Xinghe echoed tentatively, trying to mimic it. “What… does that mean?”
Bai Qingzhou’s brows furrowed almost instantly, and a flash of unreadable emotion passed through his light-colored eyes.
Back when they were together, Bai Qingzhou would occasionally show this kind of expression—sometimes intense, sometimes faint—but never explained what it meant. He had always been like the moon behind the night sky: visible yet distant, unknowable and unreachable.
Xia Xinghe felt a wave of grievance rise in his chest. If you don’t say anything, how am I supposed to know what you mean?
Suddenly, an image popped into his head of Bai Qingzhou arguing with a dog, wearing an expression full of disdain.
The absurdity of the thought made Xia Xinghe laugh. He couldn’t help the curve of his lips. But then Bai Qingzhou’s voice pulled him back to the present.
His voice was low and slightly hoarse, tinged with an almost imperceptible bitterness:
“Did you forget… or do you just not want to remember?”
Forget what? Not want to remember what?
That line only confused Xia Xinghe more. He was about to ask what Bai Qingzhou meant, but before he could open his mouth, Bai Qingzhou cut him off coldly:
“Forget it. I don’t want to hear it.”
The chill in his crisp voice strangely carried a trace of… hurt?
What did he have to feel hurt about?
Xia Xinghe froze slightly.
But Bai Qingzhou didn’t give him time to think. He turned sharply and headed straight for the door.
“Wait—”
Xia Xinghe couldn’t accept ending things in such a confusing way. He wanted to catch up and demand an explanation, but he was a second too late. Just as he jumped out of bed, the heavy sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the room.
Bang. The room fell silent again. Xia Xinghe’s hand hung in midair, and all the words he’d meant to say got stuck in his throat.
Moments later, the door creaked open again. Xia Xinghe looked up quickly—only to see it wasn’t the person he hoped for.
“Good afternoon! I’m here for rounds.” A young nurse walked in with a cheerful smile.
“….”
Xia Xinghe deflated like a balloon, quickly pulling back his hand and sitting back down on the bed.
“What’s wrong?” the nurse asked as she walked over, casually flipping through his medical chart. “Not feeling well?”
Xia Xinghe shook his head. “No.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“I did.”
“How’s your water intake?”
“A few glasses.”
Sensing something was off in Xia Xinghe’s mood, the nurse softened her tone and asked again, “Are you uncomfortable?”
Thinking back to Xia Xinghe’s earlier expression, she tentatively added, “Or… did you have a fight with Dr. Bai?”
Xia Xinghe didn’t know how to explain. He just lowered his eyes and mumbled, “No.”
Even he didn’t know what had just happened. Bai Qingzhou had left, without giving him a chance to figure it out.
He couldn’t help but ask the nurse, “Is he always like this?”
So cold and hard to read—impossible to tell what he’s really thinking.
“You mean Dr. Bai?” the nurse clarified.
Xia Xinghe nodded. “Is he always so… moody?”
“Dr. Bai… I guess you could say he’s pretty aloof,” the nurse replied, blinking thoughtfully. “I’m not in the same department, so we don’t interact much. But he’s the type of person people naturally look up to, you know? He might have a cold personality, but he’s incredibly skilled. Not only has he never had a surgical error, he rarely misdiagnoses. Just the other day, there was a complex case with multiple conditions—even the department head misjudged it, but Dr. Bai found the real cause. And then there was that time…”
The young nurse clearly admired Bai Qingzhou a lot. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. As her chatter filled the room, Xia Xinghe found himself smiling again.
Yeah, Bai Qingzhou was just that kind of person.
Even with that icy personality, he was always the brightest presence in any crowd.
Xia Xinghe suddenly recalled the first time he ever saw Bai Qingzhou.
It was at the freshman orientation ceremony. Bai Qingzhou was giving a speech as the model student representative. The auditorium was packed, buzzing with noise, but the moment Bai Qingzhou stepped on stage, the whole room went silent.
The stage was dim, lit by a single spotlight that landed on him. His crisp, clear voice echoed through the hall, instantly capturing everyone’s attention.
That five-minute speech earned an equally long round of applause and cheers—and it also… ignited Xia Xinghe’s burning heart.
From that moment on, he had never been able to take his eyes off him.
The nurse finally finished Bai Qingzhou’s “legendary” story and concluded, “Anyway, a lot of us really admire him.”
Xia Xinghe lowered his gaze, agreeing sincerely: “Yeah. He’s amazing.”
He really was—so amazing that Xia Xinghe’s heart no longer had room for anyone else.
The tense expression on Xia Xinghe’s face gradually eased, and the nurse quietly let out a breath of relief. She joked, “That’s why we’re all really jealous of you.”
“Jealous of me?” Xia Xinghe was puzzled.
“Yes,” the nurse nodded. “I’ve been working here for almost a year, and Dr. Bai has always kept people at arm’s length. This is the first time I’ve seen him care so much about someone.”
“Cardiothoracic surgeons are always super busy. They have lots of patients and the surgeries are tough. Sometimes they’re so swamped they can’t even get a sip of water all day. But Dr. Bai still makes time to come check on you every day and make sure you’re taking your meds… You two must be really close, right?”
Xia Xinghe shook his head with a bitter smile. “Not exactly.”
The title “boyfriend” sounded sweet, but once you added “ex” in front of it, the meaning changed completely. It was like there was an invisible wall between them—worse than being just ordinary friends.
The nurse, however, clearly didn’t believe him. “No way!”
She leaned in close and said in a hushed voice, “Just between us, some of the staff are even wondering if there’s something going on between you two.”
“That’s ridic—” Xia Xinghe opened his mouth to refute it, but the words caught in his throat.
Bai Qingzhou’s slightly hoarse voice echoed in his mind, and his heart skipped a beat or two uncontrollably.
He wanted to say something, but at that moment, a noisy commotion came from outside the room.
“Where’s the nurse? Hey, where’s the nurse here?”
A rough, impatient voice rang out. The nurse quickly responded, “Coming!”
She gave Xia Xinghe a few last reminders to rest, then hurried out of the room without looking back, too busy to worry about him any further.
The door closed again, and the room fell silent once more.
Xia Xinghe sat on the bed with his eyes lowered. After a moment, he grabbed his phone from the table.
[Little Bamboo: Yan-ge, you there?]“Little Bamboo” was Xia Xinghe’s WeChat username. He’d once chosen the pen name “Bamboo Branch,” so he’d casually made “Little Bamboo” his handle.
A message quickly came back.
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: ?]
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: You’re still alive?]
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: Thought you’d already ascended and reincarnated or something.]
Xia Xinghe scrolled up and realized he’d forgotten to reply to Yan Cai’s last message halfway through their previous conversation.
They had been college roommates and stayed in touch after graduation.
College roommates were like lottery scratch cards—you never knew what you’d get. But Xia Xinghe had lucked out. His roommates had all become ride-or-die friends.
[Little Bamboo: I’m back now.][Little Bamboo: My editor suddenly asked me for revisions last time, so I forgot to reply.]
[Little Bamboo: Don’t be mad, Yan-ge. I’ll treat you to dinner next time.]
Luckily, Yan Cai knew Xia Xinghe well and wasn’t actually mad. He just teased him a bit before steering the conversation back on track.
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: So why are you thinking of me all of a sudden?]
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscience. I won’t believe it.]
A moment later, another message came in:
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: You’re not in trouble, are you?]That was the thing about good friends—they acted like they didn’t care, but when something felt off, they truly worried. Xia Xinghe couldn’t help but smile.
[Little Bamboo: No.]
[Little Bamboo: I just wanted to ask you something.]
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: What is it?]
[Little Bamboo: I have a friend…]
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: Just say it. I already know this “friend” is you.]
Xia Xinghe hesitated for a while before finally sending the message.
[Little Bamboo: If someone suddenly barks like a dog at you… what does that mean?]Yan Cai replied instantly.
[Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: He’s got brain damage.] [Little Bamboo: …][Little Bamboo: Ugh. I just can’t figure out what he’s thinking.] [Yan’s not Pickled Veggies: Who?]
Xia Xinghe acted too fast and sent “Bai Qingzhou” without thinking. As soon as the message went through, Yan Cai called him immediately.
“What are you doing getting involved with Bai Qingzhou again?”
On the call, Yan Cai’s voice was laced with disbelief and anger. “Already forgot how bad it hurt last time?”
Xia Xinghe was quiet for a moment, then said, “I haven’t.”
How could he forget?
Yan Cai had been with him from college until now. He knew all about Xia Xinghe pursuing Bai Qingzhou, and about their breakup. He knew exactly how Xia Xinghe had fallen in love, bit by bit, and how badly he’d been hurt in the end.
Yes—Xia Xinghe had been the one to pursue Bai Qingzhou.
Young love was always bold and passionate. After falling for him at first sight during the opening ceremony, Xia Xinghe quickly found out which class Bai Qingzhou was in and what his name was. He even found out Bai Qingzhou was gay and had come out to his family as soon as he entered college.
When Xia Xinghe learned that he liked men, it was like fireworks exploded in his head. He’d never liked anyone before—but after that moment, he had only one thought in his heart: I want to pursue him.
Xia Xinghe had no experience pursuing someone. After all, it was his first time liking anyone. The only thing he was good at was being persistent. He never clung to Bai Qingzhou in an annoying way—just quietly stayed nearby, like a planet orbiting the moon.
At that time, Bai Qingzhou was in his fifth year of the eight-year combined bachelor’s-master’s clinical medicine program. He spent half his time in the hospital for his internship. Xia Xinghe’s routine was to rush to the cafeteria after class, grab two meals, and run to the hospital to deliver one to Bai Qingzhou.
The hospital was far from the campus—it took an hour round trip. He gave up every lunch break to do this, but never got tired of it.
Back then, Bai Qingzhou never showed any clear interest. Friends asked Xia Xinghe if it was worth it, and Xia Xinghe didn’t even hesitate: “Of course it is. Just getting to see him is worth it.” And he smiled so brightly.
Somehow, those words made their way to Bai Qingzhou’s ears. That day, after delivering lunch, Xia Xinghe was about to leave when Bai Qingzhou suddenly called out to him.
“Don’t come at noon anymore.”
The cool voice carried no emotion, and with that one sentence, Xia Xinghe felt like he’d been cast into hell. He froze on the spot, the lunchbox in his hand slipping to the floor with a clatter. A moment later, Bai Qingzhou stood up and walked over, bent down, and picked up the lunchbox.
“My internship is over,” Bai Qingzhou handed the box back to him, his expression still calm. “From now on, you can come to the graduate student building to find me.”
“I’ll send you my schedule when I get back. You send me yours too. Don’t come when I have class.”
Xia Xinghe took the lunchbox, still stunned. The box was still warm, as if it held the lingering heat of Bai Qingzhou’s touch. His fingers brushed over the spot Bai Qingzhou had just held, and before he knew it, the words slipped out of his mouth: “I really like you.”
The moment the words left his lips, Xia Xinghe regretted it. He stood there, fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the lunchbox, searching for something to say to save the moment—only to see Bai Qingzhou’s lips curl slightly.
Bai Qingzhou let out a low “mm” and said, “I know,” then pressed him against the door and leaned down to kiss him.
The kiss was light and gentle, a mere taste. But at that moment when their skin touched, Xia Xinghe felt like he could hear flowers blooming.
Teenagers are too naïve. They think a kiss on the cheek means forever. And Xia Xinghe was stubborn. He fell hard and was badly hurt in the end, only then realizing the simple truth that a forced love is never sweet.
He thought his persistence had finally moved Bai Qingzhou. Only later did he realize it was nothing more than a compromise. He thought he was special to Bai Qingzhou, only to find that Bai Qingzhou didn’t like him that much after all—he only agreed because Xia Xinghe had pursued him so relentlessly.
Disappointment builds little by little, and even the most passionate love can be worn down by daily life.
Bai Qingzhou never said he liked him. He didn’t share the little moments of his life, didn’t talk about his emotions, and sometimes wouldn’t even reply to messages for no reason.
Xia Xinghe’s reason and emotions were constantly at war. He kept telling himself that Bai Qingzhou was just that kind of person and tried his best to accommodate him—his rhythm, his habits—never once complaining.
Until the day they broke up… Bai Qingzhou did something that Xia Xinghe couldn’t pretend not to see anymore.
He thought, maybe they were never meant to be. No matter how hard he tried, he could never truly enter Bai Qingzhou’s heart.
Thinking back on it, Xia Xinghe felt a dull ache in his chest. At the same time, Yan Cai’s voice came through the phone—helpless, with a hint of warning:
“Xiao Xia, let it go.”
“Haven’t you already tried once? Do you really want to fall again in the same place?”
Yan Cai’s words hit him like a bucket of cold water, waking him up. The countless moments of pain and joy flashed through his mind, and after a while, he slowly closed his eyes.
“Yan-ge, I understand.”
His voice was so soft it was almost carried away by the wind.
I understand. I won’t make the same mistake again.