Sweet Oxygen - Chapter 32

Chapter 32 – Speak

I had something to tell you

——

In the end, Zhang Yuqing was the one who retrieved the kite from the tree.

He didn’t need a stool. Leaning against the wall, he propelled himself onto the roof with a gentle leap, then reached out to retrieve the kite.

Dandan, who had been standing by the wall, showed no interest in any of this—neither in Qin Han’s leg injury nor whether Qin Han had ever hugged her brother. It was as if these things didn’t exist in her world.

She clutched the butterfly-shaped kite, her face lighting up with contentment. “Dandan’s kite.”

Zhang Yuqing had explained that Dandan had Down syndrome, diagnosed later than usual. Her cognitive delays were more severe than other “Down babies.” Additionally, because she’d been treated alongside autistic children during early intervention, some of her behaviors resembled autism—a complex situation.

Qin Han had spent hours researching online.

For the first time, she understood that some people were born with conditions that could never be cured. She recalled the night they released sky lanterns and suddenly understood why Zhang Yuqing hadn’t written wishes on his lantern.

Because wishes were too fragile.

No one could stop Grandma Zhang from aging, and no one could cure Dandan’s illness.

These burdens were Zhang Yuqing’s alone to bear.

Learning that Dandan had no teacher to care for her recently, Qin Han visited Yaonan Alley more frequently. Dandan adored Qin Han, always calling her “Qi Han-jiejie” before clinging to her side.

Sometimes Dandan would ignore Qin Han, choosing instead to play beside her or engage in other activities.

But Luo Shijin and the others said this was how Dandan showed affection for someone.

The Down Syndrome forum stated that as a parent of a Down baby, every word and action carried significance.

Qin Han feared her behavior during these visits might negatively impact Dandan, so she specifically reached out to Du Zhi.

Knowing Qin Han’s love for books, Du Zhi recommended several relevant texts and concluded with a voice message.

“Little Qin Han, there’s a program at Normal University called Special Education. If you’re interested in becoming a special education teacher, you might want to look into it when you have time.”

Qin Han discovered that special education teachers differed from regular educators, focusing on children with unique needs.

Blindness, deafness, muteness, intellectual delays, autism, physical disabilities—these were the students they served.

She had enrolled in a Chinese Language and Literature program. Her father had suggested she could become a language arts teacher, given her love for reading.

But now Qin Han wondered if perhaps she could become a special education teacher instead. That way, she might be able to help Zhang Yuqing too.

However, with university enrollment still months away, such thoughts remained fleeting.

What truly concerned Qin Han was Zhang Yuqing’s recent attitude toward her.

In truth, Zhang Yuqing didn’t show any particular favoritism. He would tease her during meals and buy her chilled sour plum juice when she ran to the shop drenched in sweat.

When Luo Shijin would tease him about being biased, he’d always retort with that same line, “You’re the little girl here!”

But ever since that day they flew kites, he stopped patting Qin Han’s head.

He never called her “our little girl” again.

Qin Han didn’t notice these changes at first.

Having experienced her parents’ divorce, Qin Han could be sensitive at times.

But her nature was hard to change; she remained oblivious to such things when it came to people she trusted.

She only noticed because one day, the grandmother selling chilled sour plum juice passed by the window and saw Qin Han teaching Dandan how to write the number “8” in one stroke.

Dandan always drew two circles for the “8,” sometimes forgetting which direction to go and ending up with an “∞” instead.

The old woman smiled. “Aiyo, both girls are so fair and pretty. Which one is Yuqing’s younger sister?”

Zhang Yuqing happened to be by the window that day.

He bought the remaining osmanthus cakes as usual and said with a smile, “Both of them.”

For some reason, Qin Han felt that when he said this, he seemed to glance at her almost deliberately.

When she hastily looked up, all she saw was Zhang Yuqing’s smiling profile.

Qin Han knew she had overstepped with those two previous embraces.

She’d been acting on her own whims, greedily clinging to moments of closeness.

If Zhang Yuqing had noticed…

He was the type who, upon sensing affection, would likely use such subtle methods to reject her.

Though aware of this, Qin Han still resolved to visit Yaonan Alley daily.

August was drawing to a close, the summer’s oppressive heat gradually subsiding. The morning and evening breezes carried a hint of coolness, and as the weather shifted, Qin Han realized her school term would soon begin.

Once university started, she wouldn’t be able to visit Zhang Yuqing’s shop every day.

These thoughts kept her awake, and she didn’t wake until nearly noon the next day.

Opening her eyes, she felt she’d wasted another morning without seeing Zhang Yuqing.

Rushing to Yaonan Alley, she found Li Nan and Luo Shijin present while Zhang Yuqing was likely busy in the tattoo studio.

The two men circled Dandan, one wielding a melon-cutting knife, the other clutching a shoulder-length wig. They scratched their heads in confusion, engaged in some mysterious activity.

Qin Han walked over to find Dandan slumped at the table, staring blankly at Li Nan and Luo Shijin with a puzzled expression.

Li Nan ripped off his wig and swung it around, sending long, flowing hair—complete with peach-colored highlights—flying through the air.

“Look! Dandan, this is wind!” Li Nan exclaimed.

Dandan reached out and tugged a small strand of hair. “Wind.”

With his wig now in tatters, Li Nan looked pained. “I can’t do it anymore! Luo Shijin, you take over!”

Luo Shijin set down his kitchen knife and puffed out his cheeks, letting out a powerful breath. “Dandan, feel that? That’s wind.”

Dandan pursed her lips, making a fish-like motion of blowing bubbles. “Wind.”

Zhang Yuqing’s voice drifted from the tattoo room, laced with amusement. “You two, stop confusing her.”

Dandan looked up and spotted Qin Han, her eyes lighting up. “Qin Han-jiejie!”

Both Li Nan and Luo Shijin turned simultaneously. Luo Shijin frowned. “Qin Han, teach Dandan about wind. The teacher assigned homework, and we’ve been struggling all morning trying to explain it.”

Qin Han walked over, took Dandan’s hand, and led her to the electric fan. She raised Dandan’s small hand.

The fan’s breeze swept across their palms. Qin Han said softly, “Wind.”

Dandan echoed, “Wind.”

Then Qin Han turned off the fan and held Dandan’s hand up to it again. “No wind now.”

Dandan, looking slightly anxious, waved her hand vigorously. “No wind!”

Qin Han turned the fan back on. “Wind again.”

Dandan immediately smiled. “Wind again!”

“Holy shit! That’s it?”

Luo Shijin was utterly dumbfounded. He gave a thumbs-up. “Qin Han, you’re a genius!”

Qin Han smiled. She’d spent days reading forums for parents of children with Down syndrome, where many shared their educational experiences.

Finally, there was something she could do to help Zhang Yuqing.

Zhang Yuqing emerged from the tattoo studio, removing his gloves and mask. “Luo Shijin, watch your language around Dandan.”

“Ah! Right, sorry.”

Li Nan suggested taking Dandan on a bicycle ride to feel the wind, while also letting Beibei run around outside.

Luo Shijin borrowed another bike from the neighbor. He offered it to Qin Han, so Li Nan could carry Dandan.

Qin Han, too embarrassed to admit she wasn’t very good at riding bicycles, stubbornly took the bike.

Just before leaving, Zhang Yuqing asked Qin Han, “Can you ride it properly?”

“I can!”

Qin Han refused to give the impression that she couldn’t handle anything. With her neck stiffened in determination, she pushed the bicycle away.

The group had been gone for less than 20 minutes when Zhang Yuqing finished seeing off his guests. He popped a lollipop into his mouth.

Turning around, he saw Qin Han limping toward him from the west side of the street, pushing the bicycle.

The young girl wore denim shorts, her legs long and straight.

But her knees were covered in a large, purplish-blue bruise, still oozing blood.

Didn’t you say you could ride it properly?

How could you call this riding properly?

She had that particular delicacy of young girls, stopping after every step to tenderly examine her knees.

Yet she wasn’t overly dramatic. She didn’t cry, and by the look of it, she hadn’t told anyone else either. She had simply returned on her own, probably because Li Nan was still playing with Dandan and Beibei.

When Qin Han looked up and saw Zhang Yuqing, her face instantly flushed red. “It was an accident.”

Zhang Yuqing, with a lollipop in his mouth, took the bicycle from Qin Han with one hand while gently supporting her arm with the other as he led her inside the shop. “We have a first aid kit in here.”

After a few steps, Zhang Yuqing suddenly remarked, “I didn’t expect you to be such a daredevil.”

Qin Han detected a hint of reproach in his words. She hopped on one leg and explained, “I can actually ride pretty well.”

“Right, and then you fell.”

“The road was uneven with potholes. I’d already avoided most of them.”

“And then you fell.”

“No, it’s just that I hit a downhill slope. I panicked and forgot how to brake,” Qin Han mumbled.

Zhang Yuqing locked the bicycle and gestured with his chin. “Sit down inside.”

He brought over the first aid kit, opened it, and began searching for wound disinfectants.

Seeing his lollipop, Qin Han recalled he seemed to eat one every few days. She suddenly asked a rather silly question, “Is life so bitter that you need to eat something sweet?”

Zhang Yuqing gave her an amused look. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I bought them for Dandan—a whole jar. The teacher said she shouldn’t have sugar, so I’m just preventing waste.”

He pulled out a brown bottle from the kit. “Leg out.”

The fan’s breeze brushed gently against Qin Han’s face as she sat on the long bench by the table. Zhang Yuqing pulled up a chair and took a seat across from her.

Qin Han lifted her knee. Zhang Yuqing, wearing the same black disposable gloves he used at work, leaned forward with his head bowed. He cradled the crook of her leg beneath his hands, carefully applying iodine-soaked cotton swabs to her wound.

The scent of iodine mingled with the fresh aroma of bamboo that permeated the shop.

Perhaps it was a professional habit, but when Zhang Yuqing looked down, his gaze remained intense and focused.

The warmth from his hands, transmitted through the black rubber gloves, seeped into Qin Han’s skin.

Qin Han couldn’t feel the pain of her wound; instead, she felt as if his gaze might burn through her entire leg.

With less than a week left before university started and her mother’s return imminent, Qin Han suddenly realized she had no time to wait for the perfect moment to speak.

“Zhang Yuqing.”

“Hm?”

Assuming she was afraid of pain, Zhang Yuqing softened his movements as he treated her wound.

Nervous, Qin Han’s fingers clenched the chair armrest. “Do you remember when I said I had something to tell you? Before my parents divorced.”

Zhang Yuqing’s hands paused. He looked up. “I remember.”

“I actually wanted to say… I like you.”