Sweet Oxygen - Chapter 37

Chapter 37 – Night Market

Women do change dramatically after eighteen

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“Hey, Qin Han, some senior wants your number. You gonna give it to him? You know, that super-hot senior we met today!”

Hearing her roommates’ chaotic chatter about whether she should give out her number, Qin Han glanced at the video screen.

Zhang Yuqing’s eyes seemed to narrow slightly in the video feed.

Behind him stood the familiar store displays. He leaned casually against a window seat, his phone propped against a glass cup at a precarious upward angle.

His handsome features remained striking, his expression irresistibly charming.

Even that casual squinting motion made Qin Han’s fingers tighten around her phone.

“Looks like you sent a bunch of emojis,” Zhang Yuqing remarked. “What’s going on?”

Realizing she’d accidentally pressed the wrong buttons, sending a flurry of emojis, Qin Han stammered an explanation about her clumsy fingers.

She grew anxious about how to explain why she’d been in their chat history, her neck flushing crimson.

Fortunately, Zhang Yuqing didn’t press the issue.

He’d never been one to pry relentlessly.

Qin Han asked cautiously, “Should I hang up then?”

Zhang Yuqing suddenly chuckled, adopting a parental tone that mixed warmth with admonishment. “Young lady, we go to university to study, remember?”

Qin Han nodded vigorously like a pecking chick, then hung up the phone.

Her roommates had already dissolved into laughter, especially Xie Ying, whose face mask had slipped off again, now lying crumpled on the floor.

Flustered and slightly bewildered, Qin Han asked, “Did we really meet an upperclassman today?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why did you say an upperclassman wanted my number?”

“Little Qin Han, you’re just too innocent. You’re clearly the type of well-behaved girl.”

Xie Ying laughed as she climbed up the bed. Midway through, she suddenly stopped. “That guy you have a crush on… seems to have some interest in you too, doesn’t he?”

Still embarrassed about sending a flurry of emojis, Qin Han didn’t catch what Xie Ying said. She looked up in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing.” Xie Ying burst out laughing as she crawled back to her own bed.

Before coming to university, Qin Han had never lived in a dormitory. Being surrounded by so many girls for the first time felt both novel and exciting.

Her roommates were friendly and easy to get along with, always chatting together about everything.

This unique, unguarded closeness between girls created a warm and comforting atmosphere.

Two of her roommates had boyfriends, and they never bothered to hide their phone calls. Qin Han would occasionally overhear fragments of their conversations.

She had never realized before that girls could act so flirtatiously with boys.

On the second day of school, Qin Han encountered Du Zhi at the campus.

Having just returned from the library with several books, she greeted Du Zhi respectfully, “Hello, Vice Dean Du.”

Du Zhi let out a chuckle, tapping Qin Han’s forehead with a finger. “Just call me Dean Du. No need for the ‘Vice’ part.”

Qin Han glanced around before asking in a low voice, “Thank you for your help during the break. Would it be okay to treat you to a meal?”

“Let’s go.”

Du Zhi wore a formal suit, yet carried her document folder casually under her arm. “I love hanging out with young girls. It makes me feel younger.”

They’d only met once, but Qin Han had already troubled Du Zhi twice during the break—once during her parents’ divorce, and again for Dandan’s situation.

Du Zhi’s personality didn’t feel like a teacher’s, or even an elder’s. Though Zhang Yuqing had mentioned she was in her forties, Qin Han always thought of her as a big sister.

Qin Han invited Du Zhi to a Chinese restaurant off campus. During the meal, Du Zhi asked again about her interest in special education.

Qin Han set down her chopsticks with deliberate seriousness. “Actually, I’ve been wondering… Is it possible to transfer majors at Beijing Normal University?”

“It’s possible, but you need excellent academic records. You can apply after your first-semester grades, then you’ll have to pass both a transfer exam and an interview.”

Du Zhi glanced at Qin Han. “If it’s you, I’ll personally conduct the interview. It’ll be quite rigorous.”

Qin Han felt a twinge of worry. “Is it because I don’t look like someone who would make a good teacher?”

Du Zhi shook her head. “That’s not it. I need to confirm that you truly have a passion for special education, not just because of Zhang Yuqing.”

The server placed a Three Cups Chicken dish on the table between them. The sweet, savory sauce coated the chicken, its rich aroma wafting through the air.

At the mention of Zhang Yuqing’s name, Qin Han’s ears flushed, but her voice remained firm. “I want to study this field myself.”

She added candidly, “But my interest in working with children like Dandan did stem from Zhang Yuqing.”

While Zhang Yuqing had certainly played a role in her decision to change majors, Qin Han knew she would still choose special education even without him.

She had seen Dandan.

She understood there were many more children like Dandan, yet ignorant people called them “idiots.”

Qin Han wanted to become a guardian for those troubled children.

Du Zhi placed a piece of chicken on Qin Han’s plate, then popped another piece into her own mouth as she spoke about a topic completely at odds with her image, “Many people want to be heroes. You need to prove to me that you’re not just all talk.”

The days after returning to school weren’t particularly busy, but since Du Zhi had said she would personally oversee the process of changing majors, Qin Han constantly felt her abilities were insufficient.

She became like a high school student, spending every free moment in the library.

Qin Han suddenly realized that the pressure of academics wasn’t about failing exams, but about the endless sea of knowledge—no matter how much you studied, there would always be more to learn.

This time, she couldn’t rely on a “53” practice textbook. Everything would have to be done on her own.

Amidst this busyness, the first weekend of university arrived quickly.

On Saturday, the department organized a welcome gathering for new students. On Sunday, classmates said they wanted to have a get-together.

Since Qin Han couldn’t go home, she didn’t make it to Yaonan Alley.

On the day of the gathering, Qin Han wore her usual simple dress and tied her hair into a high ponytail.

Xie Ying had just changed her clothes when her phone rang. She rushed over eagerly.

Assuming it wasn’t the boy she liked, Xie Ying pouted, shook her head, and sighed.

As she shook her head, the long tassel earrings on her ears swayed gently with her movement.

Xie Ying wore a crop top that exposed her belly and a fish-tailed skirt that hugged her hips, exuding feminine charm with every step.

Qin Han sighed, feeling she should learn more from Xie Ying.

Why does the path to growing up have to be so long?

Later, unable to bear Qin Han’s appearance any longer, Xie Ying teamed up with Sun Ziyi and Li Yuexiao. They pinned Qin Han to a chair, curled her hair into a half-bun, and finished with a stylish coiled hairstyle.

Sun Ziyi even applied lipstick to Qin Han’s lips.

She declared, “Lipstick is a woman’s secret weapon to captivate men!”

Qin Han asked, puzzled, “But I remember the boys in class saying they don’t like girls wearing lipstick?”

“They dislike garish clown faces, not properly made-up beauties! Silly girl!”

The class party buzzed with energy. On the way back to the dormitory, Qin Han and her roommates wandered through the night market, picking up small trinkets.

Her roommate, interested in crafts, bought a pet leash meant for DIY braiding.

Qin Han crouched beside the stall, watching intently. She loved this night market atmosphere, reminiscent of Yaonan Alley’s secondhand book market. The goods laid out on cloth or in bags felt so approachable.

“Qin Han.”

Qin Han turned at the call, seeing Xie Ying holding up her phone.

There was no time to dodge. The phone’s flash lit up as Xie Ying clicked, then clicked again. “As expected of me,” she said, satisfied. “My photography skills are top-notch. This shot is absolutely stunning.”

Xie Ying sent the photo to Qin Han.

Qin Han opened it. Perhaps because Xie Ying possessed an age-defying maturity, even her photos carried this same quality.

The image used some unknown filter—the sky was dark, with only the streetlights and vendor lamps glowing brightly.

Qin Han crouched before a small stall, the light catching her face in half-shade.

Her hair, still damp from the curling iron, draped over her shoulders. A small bun rested atop her head, stray strands dancing in the evening breeze.

She held her head high, unguarded, the lamplight brightening her eyes.

Qin Han liked this photo. It gave her the illusion of having grown up.

She saved the image, then took several night photos herself, but none captured the same mature effect as Xie Ying’s.

Her roommate lingered at a craft stall. Qin Han bought a packet of materials, thinking to make Beibei a handmade collar.

On the way back to the dormitory, Qin Han received a short video from Luo Shijin sent through Zhang Yuqing’s phone.

The night was deep, Yaonan Alley’s lights dim, making it seem several hours later than Qin Han’s location.

Zhang Yuqing sat on a chair, holding a piece of watermelon. Beibei wagged its tail, opened its mouth, and took a big bite of the fruit.

Luo Shijin’s boisterous laughter echoed through the video.

Since he was holding the phone, his voice carried louder than Zhang Yuqing’s, leaving Qin Han to catch only faint traces of the latter’s chuckles.

Moments later, Luo Shijin sent another voice message.

“Qin Han,” Luo Shijin said, “did you see that? Beibei absolutely loves my watermelon now! Hahaha! Oh yeah, how’s your university going? Getting along well with your classmates? When are you coming home for a reunion?”

Luo Shijin hadn’t added Qin Han on WeChat; he’d always communicated through Zhang Yuqing’s phone.

The fruit stall owner had explained that his WeChat was flooded with business contacts, and he never logged in during his off-hours.

Qin Han smiled in response.

She selected several photos—some of the campus and others from the night market—and sent them to Zhang Yuqing’s WeChat account. Then she replied with her own voice message, “I’ll be back next weekend. The campus is beautiful, and my roommates are great. We had a class dinner today, and now I’m wandering the night market.”

It took a long while—almost until Qin Han reached her dormitory building—for Luo Shijin to respond with another voice message.

This one stretched on for a full 50 seconds.

Though the message was supposedly for Qin Han, there wasn’t much that was particularly directed at her.

It felt more like Luo Shijin had grabbed his phone and recorded a segment of casual conversation with Zhang Yuqing.

“Women do change dramatically after eighteen, you know? It’s been only a few days since you started university, but you seem different somehow. Don’t you agree, Qing-ge?”

Qin Han guessed that Luo Shijin must have been sitting right next to Zhang Yuqing.

While sending her a voice message, he was also chatting with Zhang Yuqing.

At first, Qin Han didn’t understand. She thought Luo Shijin might have mistaken her for someone else because she’d sent too many university photos.

After returning to her dormitory and washing up, she lay on her bed scrolling through the chat history.

Qin Han put on her headphones and watched the video of Zhang Yuqing feeding Beibei watermelon again.

This time, she didn’t focus on Beibei. Instead, she held her breath, listening intently for Zhang Yuqing’s soft laughter hidden beneath Luo Shijin’s boisterous voice.

The man held the watermelon, the sensual curve of his wrist bones visible through the fruit.

Perhaps due to the distance preventing frequent meetings, Qin Han always felt a peculiar heartache when looking at Zhang Yuqing—a sensation difficult to articulate.

Could this be called longing?

When she flipped through photos she’d sent herself, Qin Han suddenly bolted upright in bed.

How did she send Xie Ying’s photo of her to him?!

No wonder Luo Shijin said she’d changed.

Qin Han felt utterly embarrassed, as if she’d deliberately curled her hair and painted her lips to show off.

She replayed Luo Shijin’s voice message again, but the words remained unchanged:

“Women do change dramatically after eighteen, you know? It’s been only a few days since you started university, but you seem different somehow. Don’t you agree, Qing-ge?”

A long silence followed, likely because Luo Shijin forgot to release the voice recording button after speaking.

Just as Qin Han was about to turn off her phone, Zhang Yuqing’s voice suddenly came through the earpiece.

It was a low, nasal murmur in response to Luo Shijin’s question, like the pluck of a guitar’s bass string.

He said, “Mn.”