Sweet Oxygen - Chapter 42

Chapter 42 – Overnight Stay

Sleeping with you?

——

Qin Han’s back was pressed against the wall outside the bathroom. Zhang Yuqing had been standing close to her, his head bowed as he spoke.

Suddenly, he tilted his head and burst into a violent coughing fit. Much of Qin Han’s nervousness dissipated at this.

After a moment’s thought, she patted Zhang Yuqing’s back and asked with concern, “Did you choke on your saliva?”

Zhang Yuqing coughed for a while before stopping. He placed his hand on the top of Qin Han’s head and gently guided her toward the table by the window.

As he pushed her ahead, Qin Han couldn’t see Zhang Yuqing’s expression. She only heard him ask, “What kind of nonsense were you dreaming about?”

“Only kisses. Nothing else.”

Qin Han’s face burned again. She felt her words sounded terribly vulgar. After a pause, she added, “The kisses weren’t particularly exciting either. In the dream, you seemed completely clueless, so we stopped at the crucial moment.”

Perhaps because of Dandan and Grandma at home, Zhang Yuqing was remarkably patient and gentle.

Qin Han felt a sense of security—no matter what she said, she wouldn’t be scolded.

Zhang Yuqing might have chuckled, stopping her with a, “Enough. Drink your sour plum juice.”

After that, Qin Han’s unease vanished once more.

It seemed that simply seeing Zhang Yuqing and exchanging a few words with him brought her peace.

As she sipped her sour plum juice, Qin Han wondered if she was imagining things. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Zhang Yuqing was unusually indulgent with her.

Could this indulgence be a form of affection?

From that weekend onward, Imperial City suddenly experienced a drop in temperature, culminating in a snowfall.

The campus, filled with southern students, buzzed with excitement as they raised their phones to capture photos.

“Snow!”

“Look at the snow!”

“Woah, it’s snowing!”

Some even opened their umbrellas.

The snow didn’t last long, melting quickly under the sunlight.

Yet paradoxically, the temperature dropped even lower after the snowfall.

For several days, Qin Han had to bundle up, leaving her gauze-waisted dress and silk stockings consigned to the back of her wardrobe.

When she called Zhang Yuqing during this period, she noticed his voice sounded raspy.

Qin Han asked worriedly, “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Zhang Yuqing casually explained through the phone that Dandan had come down with a fever at school. The teacher had sent her home to recover, and in the process, she’d infected him.

His voice was hoarse, yet carried a hint of amusement.

Even over the phone, he couldn’t resist teasing her, “Still wearing that beautiful dress? Let’s share the suffering—why don’t you join us siblings in our illness?”

Summoning courage, Qin Han responded with a playful “Pah!”

She had intended to chat longer, but Zhang Yuqing mentioned Grandma Zhang might have caught a cold, experiencing diarrhea that day. He needed to return home and care for her.

“You take care then,” Qin Han said. “I’ll hang up.”

Before the call ended, Zhang Yuqing added, “Little girl, with the temperature dropping, don’t get too fancy with your clothes.”

“Got it.”

That afternoon, Qin Han found herself unable to focus on her studies.

Three classes filled the tiered lecture hall as the teacher passionately delivered a history of education lecture through a microphone.

Qin Han sat in the front row, cheek propped in her hand, her mind wandering. She hadn’t absorbed a single word.

It marked her first classroom distraction since starting university, wasting an entire lecture period.

After class, Xie Ying and the others asked, “Little Qin Han, are you coming back to the dorm with us or heading to the library for self-study?”

“Study time.”

As Qin Han walked toward the library, the raspy voice of Zhang Yuqing—still recovering from illness—kept echoing in her mind.

He’s still sick himself, yet he’s taking care of Dandan’s fever and his grandmother. Can he manage? Does he even have time to rest?

Standing before the library, Qin Han glanced up at the building’s facade before suddenly turning to sprint toward the school gates.

The late November air carried early winter’s chill, the sky darkening hours earlier than summer’s twilight. Qin Han, bundled in a thick wool sweater and clutching textbooks, raced to the roadside where she hailed a taxi.

The driver watched her fasten her seatbelt with practiced efficiency. “Where to?” he asked, amusement coloring his voice.

“Yaonan Alley,” Qin Han replied between gasps, only now remembering her destination.

She avoided contacting Zhang Yuqing throughout the ride, reluctant to disturb him during his busy recovery.

Night had fully descended by the time they reached Yaonan Alley. After paying the fare, Qin Han tightened her sweater against the cold and ventured deeper into the narrow lane, her flashlight beam slicing through the darkness.

As the weather turned cold, the insect songs disappeared. Only the rustling of wind through leaves remained, accompanied by occasional bird calls.

Zhang Yuqing’s shop was lit up, its yellow-white glow casting uneven patterns across the street’s rough surface.

The door stood open. Qin Han stepped inside to find Beibei sprawled out in the air-conditioned draft, fast asleep.

Hearing movement, Beibei lifted his head. Recognizing Qin Han as a familiar face, he blinked sleepily a few times before settling back down.

Qin Han didn’t dare call out, afraid to wake Dandan who was recovering at home.

The sound of a washing machine hummed from the bathroom, accompanied by the gurgling of water. It sounded like Zhang Yuqing was washing something.

But he was clearly still sick.

Qin Han pushed open the bathroom door. A strange, unpleasant odor suddenly hit him.

She looked over and realized what she’d smelled.

Zhang Yuqing stood by the sink wearing vinyl gloves, his back slightly hunched. A beige plastic basin rested on the counter, holding loose-fitting underpants—the kind elderly people wear.

The laundry detergent had created a layer of foam on the water’s surface, but beneath it, one could clearly see the fabric stained with brown-yellow marks.

Qin Han recalled Zhang Yuqing’s phone call earlier—Grandma Zhang wasn’t feeling well today, suffering from diarrhea.

Grandma Zhang is sick.

That’s why he’s helping the elderly woman wash these dirty clothes.

The bathroom light cast a cold, white glow. Standing in the small space, Zhang Yuqing’s figure appeared even more slender and tall.

Perhaps due to his cold, he looked slightly tired. When Qin Han pushed open the door, he turned his head toward the sound.

Zhang Yuqing clearly hadn’t expected her to visit at this hour. Seeing it was Qin Han, surprise flickered in his eyes. “What are you…”

Qin Han’s nose stung with sudden emotion. She threw herself into Zhang Yuqing’s arms.

Her heart ached as she choked out, “Zhang Yuqing.”

At first, Zhang Yuqing didn’t move. Only when he felt the fabric on his chest growing damp from the girl’s tears did he remove his gloves.

Smiling, he pulled her into a hug and patted her back soothingly. “It’s not as bad as you imagine.”

Qin Han buried her face in Zhang Yuqing’s chest and shook her head violently.

No, it really is that bad.

She recalled the footage Du Zhi had shown her, and remembered Zhang Yuqing as she’d seen him during middle school—hunched over on a bus, laughing in the sunlight.

She was too young then, believing life would spare the youth from hardship. She thought he’d never age, never die, remaining eternally youthful.

But what had life done to Zhang Yuqing?!

He’d worked harder than anyone to survive.

He’d lived more intensely than anyone!

Despite his relentless efforts,

He couldn’t afford college, had no time to rest.

Even when sick, he had to wash elderly patients’ soiled clothes.

Qin Han’s tears flowed endlessly. She knew life wasn’t so gentle that a few tears could ward off all misfortunes.

But what could she possibly do for Zhang Yuqing?

Zhang Yuqing sighed softly, placing his hand on Qin Han’s shoulder. He leaned forward, meeting her red-rimmed eyes with understanding.

“Qin Han,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle smile, “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t add unnecessary drama. Compared to what I’ve lost, my family means more to me.”

He wiped Qin Han’s tears. “Don’t cry. I want this kind of life. I want to support my family. I chose this, understand? There’s nothing to feel wronged about.”

Qin Han nodded through her tears.

“Come on, let’s go. What are you standing in the bathroom for?” Zhang Yuqing smiled as he led her into the main hall.

He held Qin Han by the wrist. After a few steps, Zhang Yuqing turned to examine her clothing. “Good choice. You’ll stay warm that way.”

That night, Zhang Yuqing didn’t rest. Dandan woke up around 9 o’clock in the evening, crying about a sore throat.

Children get easily upset when sick. Dandan started fussing, and it lasted over an hour. She even scratched Zhang Yuqing’s neck.

After finally settling Dandan, another customer arrived. They inquired about tattoo prices and scheduled a design viewing for the next day.

Zhang Yuqing tilted his head, coughing twice. “Come tomorrow morning. These small designs can be finished tonight.”

Qin Han sat by the window table, watching Zhang Yuqing work. She saw him hang washed clothes on the bamboo pole outside the back door.

“Zhang Yuqing.”

“Hm?”

Qin Han looked at him. “I can’t go back to my dorm. Can I stay here?”

“No dorm checks?”

“I told my mom I’m staying home.”

Qin Han, still not good at lying, blushed again. “I also told her I’m staying at a friend’s house.”

Zhang Yuqing smiled warmly. “Dandan has a cold. Don’t sleep with her. Use my bedroom.”

“What about you?”

Zhang Yuqing cleared his throat, teasing her. “Sleep with you?”

Qin Han’s entire body flushed. She lowered her gaze and didn’t speak.

“Just kidding.” Zhang Yuqing snapped his fingers in front of her face. “I’ll sleep in the tattoo studio.”

“But you’re sick.”

Zhang Yuqing’s smile vanished. His tone turned serious. “My bedroom or your dorm. Choose one.”

“Bedroom.”

“Then go to sleep. It’s getting late.”

Qin Han brushed her teeth and washed her face with the supplies Zhang Yuqing provided. Lying on his bed, she still felt a pang of jealousy. She spent a long time searching her phone for how much special education teachers could earn.

Perhaps the fresh bamboo scent from his bed gave Qin Han a sense of security. She fell asleep clutching her phone.

When she woke up again, it was past 1 o’clock in the morning.

Qin Han opened her eyes in the darkness, hearing coughs coming from downstairs.

She descended the stairs with her phone, passing through the latticed ironwork. The tattoo studio on the first floor still glowed with light.

The glow seeped from under the half-closed door. Qin Han approached and gently pushed it open.

Zhang Yuqing leaned against the tattoo bed, a pencil in hand, still sketching.

Hearing the door creak, he turned his head. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I was, but I woke up.”

Qin Han walked over and stood before Zhang Yuqing. Suddenly, she spoke, “Zhang Yuqing, I just checked. Teachers actually earn decent money. If I work hard, I can make a lot of money in the future. Then you won’t have to work so hard.”

The little girl had clearly slept for a while, likely crying before she fell asleep. Her voice now carried a nasal quality, yet each word rang with determination.

The tattoo studio was lit only by a night lamp. Zhang Yuqing looked at Qin Han’s serious face, her expression resolute.

He suddenly laughed. “Who thinks about getting stuck in a muddy pit without even dating first? Silly girl, if I were your real brother, I’d be driven to an early grave by you.”

“Would you date me then? When I grow up.”

Zhang Yuqing smiled and ruffled her hair, his voice gentle as spring breeze in the capital city in April.

He lit up his phone and checked the calendar.

“Little girl, I’m quite busy this month. Let’s wait a while. When I’m done with my work, we can talk about this again, okay?”