Sweet Oxygen - Chapter 22

Chapter 22 – Books

Don’t move, stand still

——

Qin Han remembered that when she first met Zhang Yuqing, she had asked a silly question.

She asked Zhang Yuqing if he had any tattoos. At that time, Zhang Yuqing said he did, and she foolishly replied, “I didn’t see any.”

Back then, Zhang Yuqing told her that the tattoo was in a place she couldn’t see.

But just now, she had seen all of Zhang Yuqing’s abs and back, and on his clean, cool-toned white skin, there were no tattoos at all.

Could it be… lower?

Like on his legs, or somewhere else?

Qin Han’s face grew redder and redder. Zhang Yuqing, thinking she was embarrassed about using the cup mistakenly, chuckled and said, “I was just messing with you. No one has used that cup. I poured it for a guest yesterday, but he didn’t drink it.”

“Oh.”

Qin Han put the cup down, feeling a bit absent-minded.

“You’re here pretty early. I thought high school graduates like you would be sleeping in until noon during summer break.”

“I wake up early every day!” Qin Han hurriedly defended herself.

Zhang Yuqing sat in the chair across from her and stretched his leg to hook the fan’s cord, plugging it into the socket. “Did you run here? Your forehead is covered in sweat.”

Qin Han didn’t dare to admit that she had started sweating because she saw his abs and back. She blushed and shook her head. “It’s not that hot.”

“Cool off first. I’m going upstairs for a bit. I’ll take you somewhere later.”

When Zhang Yuqing came back downstairs, he had returned to his usual style of dressing—black cargo pants and a plain black T-shirt. His hair was damp.

He snapped his fingers. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“To a place where you can get your high school graduation gift.”

Qin Han followed Zhang Yuqing out of the shop. He led her into a small alley, occasionally greeting acquaintances with a smile.

A man saw Qin Han walking beside Zhang Yuqing and asked, “Yuqing, has Yudan come back?”

The woman standing next to the man suddenly bumped into him and gave him a meaningful look. The man hesitated and stammered, “Ah, isn’t this Xiaodandan? But Xiaodandan isn’t this… isn’t this—”

“Do you even know how to talk?!”

The woman beside him pulled him into the house. Then she turned back, smiling apologetically at Zhang Yuqing. “Sorry, Yuqing. He always speaks so thoughtlessly. Don’t take it to heart.”

Zhang Yuqing smiled lightly. “I won’t.”

Qin Han didn’t quite understand what had made all three of them suddenly so tense.

She felt a little uneasy. “Zhang Yuqing, does walking with me make people gossip about us?”

Zhang Yuqing glanced at her with amusement. “What gossip? I’m not a celebrity.”

After passing several more low houses, he finally said, “My sister is sick—she’s a patient. They’re worried that if they say something wrong, I’ll be upset.”

Qin Han wanted to ask what kind of illness, but she felt that it wasn’t a cheerful topic. So, she kept silent and focused on taking in the scenery along the way.

Every house in this alley had a sense of history, yet each carried its own unique atmosphere of everyday life, reflecting the different habits of its owners.

Some houses had walls built of large stone blocks, some had added a second floor, and others had courtyards filled with sun-dried corn and chili peppers. Qin Han looked around curiously, fascinated by everything.

One house had a wall covered in cacti.

The cacti were budding with pale yellow flowers, adding a unique charm.

Qin Han took a few glances and couldn’t help but take out her phone to take a picture. “The people in this house must really love life.”

“They didn’t plant cacti for decoration—it’s for security, to keep thieves from climbing in.”

Zhang Yuqing naturally placed his hand on the back of Qin Han’s head, gently guiding her to the right. “This way.”

They arrived at a cozy little house. On the stone table outside the door sat a cement-colored flowerpot holding a blooming white chrysanthemum.

A plump orange cat lounged lazily by the doorway, basking in the sun. When it saw Zhang Yuqing and Qin Han, it merely lifted its eyes lazily.

Zhang Yuqing curled his index finger and knocked lightly on the wooden door. “Grandpa Liu, are you home?”

“Oh, Yuqing, you’re here.”

The door opened, and an elderly man with a tall, lean frame stepped out. He was dressed neatly in a traditional white Tang-style shirt with knotted buttons and held a folding fan in his hand, looking as if he had stepped out of another era.

Qin Han didn’t know why Zhang Yuqing had brought her here, but she politely greeted him along with Zhang Yuqing. “Hello, Grandpa Liu.”

“This little girl is so lively, truly delightful.”

Grandpa Liu smiled as he shook his folding fan, the golden mountain-and-sea patterns shimmering slightly with his movements. “What brings you here? How’s your grandma’s health?”

Zhang Yuqing smiled. “Same as always. I came because I know you have some treasures here that can’t be found elsewhere.”

“That’s true.”

Grandpa Liu led them inside. As soon as they stepped in, Qin Han was stunned.

The room was completely filled with books, stacked from the floor to the ceiling. Some were placed on bookshelves, while others were piled on tables or even directly on the floor. This was a world of books—the air itself carried the scent of ink and old paper.

Qin Han couldn’t help but whisper in awe, “Wow.”

“Now, this is what you call real second-hand books. Pick whichever you like—I’ll give it to you as a gift.”

Zhang Yuqing leaned down slightly, speaking near Qin Han’s ear, “Grandpa Liu actually has some rare first editions here. Look carefully—you might just find a treasure.”

Grandpa Liu coughed heavily and joked, “Don’t think I didn’t hear you two plotting against this old man!”

Qin Han loved books. She spent more time reading than playing on her phone.

New books were like young storytellers, dressed in colorful covers, softly narrating their tales.

But old books carried a sense of time’s passage, their covers worn and full of unspoken stories.

“Can I take one down to look?” There was a wooden ladder by the bookshelf, and Qin Han hesitated in front of it.

Grandpa Liu cheerfully encouraged her, “Go ahead, little girl. Pick any book you like! Not many young people these days are into reading—they’re all glued to their phones and tablets.”

Another person calling her “little girl.”

The people on this street really liked calling her that.

Qin Han climbed up the ladder, her eyes scanning the books.

Zhang Yuqing really understood her—she truly loved physical books.

A copy of The Little Prince caught her attention. She reached out carefully to take it down.

Focused on keeping the book from being damaged, she forgot about the dust on it. Just as Zhang Yuqing opened his mouth to warn her, she flipped the book open, sending a cloud of dust into the air, stinging her eyes.

Qin Han reflexively raised her hand to rub them. Zhang Yuqing, standing beside the ladder, caught her wrist first. “Don’t use your hands. Your hands are covered in dust too.”

“Then what should I do?”

Qin Han closed her eyes, with a hint of shimmering tears at the corners.

Following Zhang Yuqing’s voice, she turned her face toward him blindly, like a sightless girl.

“Grandpa Liu, do you have any wet wipes?”

“Yes, catch.”

Zhang Yuqing caught the pack of wet wipes thrown over by Grandpa Liu, pulled one out, and instructed Qin Han, “Don’t move, stand still. I’ll wipe your eyes for you.”

The wooden six-step ladder Qin Han stood on had her positioned only on the first step, making her almost the same height as Zhang Yuqing, who was standing on the ground.

She could feel his voice right in front of her—so close.

Perhaps because her eyes were closed, her hearing and touch became more sensitive. Qin Han could distinctly feel Zhang Yuqing’s fingertips wrapped in the wet wipe, gently wiping away the tears under her eyes.

He said, “Try opening them. Blink a few times.”

His voice brushed against her ears, softly scratching her eardrums.

Like a match being lightly struck against the matchbox, ready to ignite at any moment.

Qin Han opened her eyes, and through the mist of her tears, she saw Zhang Yuqing raise his hand again to wipe them away.

For a moment, she involuntarily held her breath, feeling as if her heart skipped a beat.

“Does it feel better?”

“Mm.”

Grandpa Liu’s bookstore was a place where time seemed forgotten. Qin Han lingered there for a long time until the sunlight outside dazzled her eyes, making her suddenly realize that the entire morning had passed.

Since Zhang Yuqing had insisted on paying, Qin Han felt embarrassed to choose too many books and only picked one by Lao She.

But when Zhang Yuqing finished paying and led her out of Grandpa Liu’s house, he suddenly grabbed a few more books from the doorway and handed them to Qin Han.

The small stack of books had rustic covers and was tied together with a deep green satin ribbon, forming a delicate bow.

“What’s this?”

Zhang Yuqing stuffed the books into Qin Han’s arms. “Your graduation gift.”

“But I already got Lao She’s book, didn’t I?”

“That’s what you wanted—this is what I want to give you.”

The midday sunlight shone on Zhang Yuqing’s face, making him squint for a moment before he smiled. “They’re poetry collections from abroad. I think they’re great—you should give them a read.”

Qin Han felt a bit shy. “Thank you.”

But then, Zhang Yuqing suddenly turned to her and said, “We’re friends now, right? Next time you come, don’t feel like you have to buy something. Got it?”

He was always gentle, choosing just the right moments to say things in a way that wouldn’t make others feel awkward.

But suddenly, Qin Han felt worried.

Hugging her graduation gift, she hesitated before asking, “Did you give me this just because I bought something before? Is this just a matter of returning the favor?”

Zhang Yuqing didn’t answer right away. Instead, he said, “Why don’t you untie the ribbon and take a look?”

Qin Han didn’t get the answer she wanted, but she silently untied the bow and opened the first poetry book.

It was a collection by Borges, and on the title page, she saw Zhang Yuqing’s handwriting—

“To Qin Han, little friend. Congratulations on your graduation. May all things go smoothly.”

His handwriting was elegant and effortless. Before she could even look up, she heard Zhang Yuqing chuckle above her, “This isn’t about returning a favor—it’s to celebrate your great results.”

On the way back to Zhang Yuqing’s shop, Qin Han was a little distracted.

A thought suddenly arose in her mind—

She wished Zhang Yuqing were her boyfriend.

Zhang Yuqing glanced at his phone and suddenly said, “Can you find your way back to my shop?”

“I can.”

“Go on ahead, then. I need to take care of something. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

Qin Han nodded and walked to Zhang Yuqing’s shop on her own.

His shop was truly remarkable—even when he left, he didn’t bother locking the door, and yet no one ever just wandered in.

Beibei must have recognized her by now because it didn’t bark when she entered, instead just lying lazily on the floor, basking in the sunlight.

Qin Han sat by the table, flipping through the books Zhang Yuqing had given her, completely engrossed.

The boy she met years ago was just a vague memory from her first innocent crush. But Zhang Yuqing—she really, truly liked him.

Upstairs, a series of sneezes suddenly broke the silence, startling Qin Han.

She froze.

Was there someone upstairs?

Before she could finish guessing, Luo Shijin came down the stairs, dragging his slippers.

He probably had a cold—he was wiping his nose with a tissue as he walked, draping a white sports jacket over his shoulders.

“Hey? You’re here. Have you seen Qing-ge?”

That white sports jacket looked oddly familiar to Qin Han.

She stared at it for a while, then suddenly widened her eyes in shock.

This—this was the exact same white sports jacket that the boy from years ago wore!

Identical!

Qin Han looked at Luo Shijin, who was tossing away his used tissue, utterly dumbfounded.

Could it be—

Luo Shijin was her first crush from all those years ago?!