Sweet Oxygen - Chapter 44

Chapter 44 – Sugar Paper

Coincidentally, both were milk-flavored

——

Those days, Imperial City was blanketed in a heavy snowfall. Though situated in the northern region, such substantial snowstorms were uncommon in the capital.

Social media feeds overflowed with snow-covered scenes, including dedicated shots of the Forbidden City’s winter splendor. Centuries-old crimson walls and blue-tiled roofs, preserved through modern conservation efforts, glistened under the crystalline blanket of snow—a sight of indescribable beauty.

Amidst the joyous posts, some carried a tinge of melancholy.

Qin Han’s roommates were all away that weekend. During their Friday dinner, the girls had planned a scenic trip to the outskirts. Qin Han, absent that day and unresponsive to messages, had been left out of the excursion.

Upon returning from the countryside, Xie Ying brought back several jars of homemade preserves—unpreserved peaches and pears stored in glass containers. Unlike the vibrantly colored supermarket varieties, these looked refreshingly natural and wholesome.

Sun Ziyi stood by the dormitory door, flipping through keys. “Damn, where’s my key? Xie Ying, use yours to open it.”

“Why bother with keys? The door wasn’t locked at all! That little Qin Han must have been here.”

Xie Ying rushed into the dormitory, arms laden with jars, and called out in a saccharine voice, “My darling little Qin Han, I’ve brought you preserves!”

She stopped mid-sentence as she took in Qin Han’s appearance.

Qin Han was still wearing the white down jacket she’d had on when she left on Friday, her hair tied in the same ponytail from that day.

She sat curled up on her bed, her eyes not swollen but the rims red.

Hearing the voice, Qin Han lifted her head in a daze, looking at Xie Ying.

Her eyes were still clear, but as she looked up, a tear slid down her cheek.

“What’s wrong, little Qin Han? What happened to you? Who bullied you?!”

Xie Ying, panicked, threw herself at Qin Han and hugged her. “Who the fuck bullied our little Qin Han?! Which bastard was it? I’ll go kill him right now!”

Xie Ying’s words sounded exactly like Luo Shijin’s.

Thinking of Luo Shijin, she thought of Yaonan Alley.

She also thought of Friday night, when Zhang Yuqing had said through the door, “Don’t come back anymore.”

Qin Han looked in Xie Ying’s direction, silent for a moment, then choked out, “Why is transferring so hard? It’s too hard.”

She suddenly burst into loud sobs. “Transferring is really too hard.”

Everyone thought Qin Han was under too much academic pressure. Only Xie Ying suddenly understood, realizing something.

She held Qin Han tightly and whispered, “Cry it out. Once you’ve endured this, you’ll feel better. Look at me—I’m fine now.”

Qin Han’s tears came weakly, her lips pale, her entire face drained of color. Yet her eyes grew brighter with each passing moment.

Xie Ying knew Qin Han hadn’t eaten in two days. She twisted open a jar of yellow peach preserves. “When I was little and running a fever, my mom used to give me these. Peach preserves—peach for ‘escaping’ misfortune. Eat up.”

Qin Han took a small iron spoon and silently consumed the entire jar, one spoonful at a time.

As if snapping back to reality, she rasped, “Sorry. I ate the whole thing.”

“It’s all for you. There’s another jar. Want more?”

Qin Han shook her head, changed clothes, and went to take a shower.

That night, as Qin Han lay in bed, Xie Ying leaned over from the upper bunk. “Little Qin Han, want me to keep you company?”

Qin Han shook her head again.

After that, Yaonan Alley and Zhang Yuqing never reappeared in Qin Han’s life.

As exam season approached, everyone focused on their studies.

Qin Han became even more busy after that weekend. She started reading at 5 o’clock in the morning every day and only turned off her nightlight to sleep at midnight.

Library, study room, classroom—these were her daily haunts.

Even weekends found her at school, buried in books.

When Mother Qin called, Qin Han would simply say she preferred the quiet of the library for studying, declining to return home.

The year-end holidays—Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s—brought festive gatherings. Qin Han attended dormitory and class parties, wearing a Christmas hat as she listened quietly to others’ animated conversations, offering occasional soft smiles.

The day before finals, Qin Han helped Xie Ying review key points.

She lowered her gaze, drawing underlines on lecture notes and marking important sections with asterisks.

After watching this for a while, Xie Ying suddenly asked, “Little Qin Han, are you feeling better now?”

Qin Han looked up with a faint smile. “I’m perfectly fine. Didn’t you recover quickly after your breakup? It’s the same for me.”

Xie Ying sighed softly.

She still dreamed of her ex-boyfriend—dreams where he’d be accepted into Imperial City universities. In those dreams, they’d break up, but in reality, they remained together.

She knew then that Qin Han hadn’t let go either.

They both simply hid their emotions where no one could see.

After the exams, the class held another gathering.

The class president suggested, “Let’s each say something.” The students around the round table spoke one by one. When it reached Qin Han, she remained silent, lost in thought.

“Qin Han, it’s your turn. Say something,” the class president called out.

Qin Han suddenly snapped back to reality. She picked up her stemware glass filled with orange juice but only managed to utter two words,”To tomorrow.”

She remembered someone who, during everyone’s despair, had smiled and raised his cup, saying “To tomorrow.”

It was a summer day under air conditioning, a steamy hotpot meal. Through the mist, he had looked at her, his eyes smiling.

It had only been a few months, yet it felt like years had passed.

Before the New Year, Qin Han checked her grades—all subjects ranked first.

Though Mother Qin didn’t prioritize academic achievements, she still beamed with pride. “My little Han is amazing! Keep up the good work next semester. Let me treat you to a special meal today.”

“Mom, I’m changing my major next semester,” Qin Han announced.

“What to?”

“Special education.”

“What’s that?” Mother Qin’s brow furrowed in confusion.

In truth, Qin Han had tried discussing this major change multiple times before, but Mother Qin had never paid proper attention.

Qin Han said, “It’s a program for teaching children with disabilities.”

Mother Qin frowned. “Why would you choose such a major? It sounds exhausting.”

“I have a friend.”

Qin Han paused briefly, then looked earnestly at her mother. “His sister has Down Syndrome. That’s how I learned about this field. I really enjoy special education.”

“I won’t allow it.”

Mother Qin gazed at Qin Han with grave seriousness. “Xiaohan, this kind of teaching is too demanding. You wouldn’t be able to handle it. Listen to your mother—don’t change your major.”

After a few seconds of silence, Qin Han suddenly asked, “Mom, do you know that friend of mine?”

“What?” Mother Qin’s gaze flickered momentarily before she smiled. “How could I have met him? You’ve never brought him home. Which friend is this? A high school classmate?”

Qin Han shook her head. “No.”

She explained more about the special education program, but her mother remained firm in her opposition.

“Anyway, I won’t let you do something so arduous.”

During that period, Qin Han’s mood had been gloomy. Unable to control herself, she blurted out harshly, “Dad would entrust more to those he trusts, yet you’re always doubting.”

After saying this, she realized her words had been too harsh.

When she looked back, Mother Qin’s eyes were indeed red-rimmed.

“I’m sorry.”

Mother Qin, perhaps reminded of something sad, went back to her bedroom.

Alone in the living room, Qin Han felt suffocated. With her mind empty, she walked out.

It was nearly New Year’s time, and everywhere had a festive and harmonious atmosphere. In Qin Han’s neighborhood, property staff were hanging colored lights on trees.

It should have been lively and joyful, but Qin Han’s heart remained completely untouched.

She followed the crowd, then got onto a bus with them.

When she realized she was heading instinctively toward Yaonan Alley, Qin Han felt lost on the bus. Just as the vehicle stopped, she squeezed out.

It was a stop she didn’t recognize. She stood frozen for a moment, then followed the crowd into a mall near the bus stop.

The mall was playing an English version of “Happy New Year,” with a child’s voice singing, “Happy New Year, Happy New Year.”

Qin Han found herself walking into the supermarket. She didn’t need to buy anything, but when she passed the candy display, she stopped and bought a bucket of lollipop.

After paying, she walked out of the supermarket.

A crowd blocked the elevator entrance, each person carrying gift boxes for the New Year. Among them were babies dressed in red padded jackets, held in their parents’ arms.

Qin Han stood for a moment before deciding to take the stairs instead.

The stairwell was nearly deserted. She unwrapped a lollipop and put it in her mouth.

The trash bin overflowed, its contents nearly spilling. Qin Han placed the lollipop wrapper on the bin’s lid.

The milk-flavored lollipop was very sweet.

Life seemed unchanged—there would still be exams, winter break, and New Year celebrations. Even eating candy still tasted sweet.

But she couldn’t feel happy. She felt like there was a piece missing in her heart.

“Qing-ge, let me read this for you. We need to buy pork belly, pork tenderloin, and large bone-in cuts. Grandma said if there’s chicken, we should get one too.”

Luo Shijin finished reading the list with his messy handwriting and complained, “Why did they have to close Yaonan’s meat market? Now we have to come to the supermarket just to buy meat. How inconvenient!”

Recently, due to avian flu, health authorities had tightened regulations. Yaonan Alley’s meat market was sealed shut after failing inspections.

The neighborhood had grumbled about it for a few days, but eventually let it go. What’s done is done, and complaints won’t change anything.

Zhang Yuqing hummed in acknowledgment.

The supermarket was packed with people, the children’s version of “Happy New Year” playing in the background. Luo Shijin sighed amidst the noise.

He remembered that day when he’d rushed to the hospital. His Qing-ge was sitting on a temporary bed in the corridor, clutching a lollipop stick in his hand, lost in thought.

The hospital corridor reeked of disinfectant, its acrid smell clinging to the air. Luo Shijin kept feeling something slipping from Zhang Yuqing’s hand onto the floor. In the middle of the night, he didn’t look closely. As he bent down to retrieve it, he froze mid-motion, “Holy shit! Zhang Yuqing! What the fuck are you doing?!”

That was the first time Luo Shijin had addressed Zhang Yuqing by his full name.

The shock was overwhelming. His Qing-ge’s plastic stick had been crushed into a twisted shape, piercing through the skin. Blood trickled down his hand, dripping onto the floor.

Zhang Yuqing only came back to his senses after Luo Shijin’s shout.

He glanced at his hand, carelessly wiping the blood with a paper towel. “Oh, I wasn’t paying attention.”

During that time, Dandan was undergoing surgery, and Grandma Zhang had been hospitalized before being discharged.

It wasn’t until half a month later that Luo Shijin truly realized something was off with his Qing-ge.

Zhang Yuqing had always been a workaholic, but now he was even more extreme.

He was practically insane.

Luo Shijin couldn’t help but exclaim one day, “Qing-ge! This isn’t staying up late—you’re burning through your life!”

Zhang Yuqing even smiled. “I feel uncomfortable if I’m not busy.”

Luo Shijin vaguely understood why. His Qing-ge hadn’t mentioned that car again, and Qin Han hadn’t come by either.

He asked Zhang Yuqing, “Did you argue?”

“There wasn’t even a chance for an argument,” Zhang Yuqing had said at the time.

After squeezing through the crowd in the supermarket for hours, Luo Shijin and Zhang Yuqing finally bought everything the old lady wanted.

Throughout the year, they’d just muddle through with whatever food they could get. Only on New Year’s Eve would Grandma Zhang personally cook, with Luo Shijin and his dad helping. The whole family would gather together for a New Year’s feast.

It was a brief respite in their busy lives.

After paying and leaving the supermarket, they found the elevator entrance packed with people. Luo Shijin sighed, “Why are there so many people in China? When will we ever get down?”

Zhang Yuqing said, “Let’s take the stairs.”

As they approached the stairwell, the crowd finally thinned, and the noise around them faded.

The music in the supermarket had changed at some point. Zhang Yuqing, carrying a large plastic bag, reached into his down jacket with his free hand and pulled out a lollipop. His movements suddenly froze.

It was an old song from several years back, a magnetic male voice singing.

“When I flew but you fell, so close I could hear your breath. Sorry, I didn’t hold on to you.”

Zhang Yuqing pushed open the stairwell door and set the bag on the ground. “I’ll be right there.”

“Ah, sure, take your time. Perfect timing for a smoke break,” Luo Shijin said.

The trash can was full. Zhang Yuqing peeled off the lollipop wrapper.

Another wrapper of the same brand lay on top of the trash can. Coincidentally, both were milk-flavored.

The stairwell door couldn’t block out the supermarket’s music.

Why would they play such a sad song during the New Year?

The singer continued.

“You don’t know why I left you. I can’t say, can’t let you cry. There’s so much you don’t know.”

Zhang Yuqing put the lollipop in his mouth, leaned against the wall, and slowly crouched down, pressing his fingers against his temples.

Luo Shijin lit his cigarette, then turned around and jumped in surprise. “Qing-ge, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? I’ve been telling you not to stay up so late. Is it because you’re overworked?”

After a long pause, Zhang Yuqing finally said, “Maybe.”