Sweet Oxygen - Chapter 45

Chapter 45 – Flight

Someone had strummed guitar strings, playing a simple melody

——

During the days between the Lunar New Year and the start of the new semester, Qin Han received a message from Du Zhi.

Du Zhi asked her, “Little Qin Han, would you mind starting school a few days early?”

Qin Han was preparing to submit her application to switch majors. Du Zhi knew she would pass the written test without issue and wanted to conduct the interview early.

This interview was special, specifically designed for Qin Han. It wasn’t simply answering questions in a school office.

Du Zhi took Qin Han to a rehabilitation school partnered with their institution, wanting her to meet children with disabilities firsthand.

In the field of special education, few graduates actually become special education teachers.

Some can’t handle seeing those children every day, nor can they bear the families’ misfortunes.

People are like this sometimes—absorbing too much negativity can indeed lead to a kind of “empathetic suffering.”

When education psychology professors teach students in this major, they explain how to study disabled children’s psychology while also instructing them on maintaining their own mental health.

Du Zhi said she needed to see Qin Han’s resilience before agreeing to her major change.

Qin Han was assigned to follow an upperclasswoman, helping children in a small special needs class with rehabilitation exercises.

The class consisted of 3-5 year olds with delayed development and intellectual disabilities.

The classroom wasn’t large. Each child came to class accompanied by a parent, with small chairs labeled with their names followed by chairs for the parents.

Winter was the peak season for flu outbreaks. The classrooms were disinfected regularly, often leaving behind the smell of disinfectant.

Alongside this, there were other less pleasant odors—perhaps from children’s accidents, saliva, or nasal mucus. It was a smell reminiscent of elderly people in their twilight years, carrying a faintly unclean scent.

Du Zhi often visited. Sometimes she stayed outside the classroom, watching Qin Han through the glass window.

Qin Han always smiled at the children and showed great patience.

During Du Zhi’s last visit, a little boy vomited. It happened while Qin Han was holding him, splattering her down jacket sleeve.

Qin Han, wearing a white down jacket, didn’t even glance at her sleeve. She crouched down to wipe the boy’s mouth instead. “Xiaobao, shall I help you take off your jacket?”

Xiaobao’s mother wasn’t present, having gone to wash his lunch box.

The winter water in the school was slightly cold. As Qin Han washed Xiaobao’s clothes and her own sleeve, her hands turned red from the chill.

Leaning against the wall by the water room, Du Zhi suddenly spoke up, “Little Qin Han, you seem different from before.”

“Do I?”

“You’ve grown up,” Du Zhi said with a smile.

Qin Han wasn’t sure if she was truly growing up.

She only knew that there was someone who could calmly clean elderly clothes stained with excrement.

Qin Han’s major change went smoothly, though Mother Qin had opposed it repeatedly, straining their relationship.

In the end, Father Qin called her. After a long conversation, Mother Qin stopped interfering with Qin Han’s academic choices.

The only one who could truly hinder Qin Han was herself.

She kept dreaming of Yaonan Alley, of summer’s sour plum juice, and of certain smiling eyes.

During the first half of her second year, the school announced an exchange program to the US for special education students.

The exchange lasted two years, with departure in six months.

Requirements included excellent grades and foreign language proficiency.

Qin Han gave up two vacations, worked tirelessly for over a year, and secured the exchange spot.

But rumors began circulating in her department—that Qin Han was Du Zhi’s illegitimate daughter, that her exchange qualification came through backdoor connections.

The source of these gossip was obvious with a moment’s thought.

Only a few students had competed for the spot. Anyone could tell who was most bitter about the outcome.

Xie Ying erupted in their dormitory, cursing, “Holy shit! She’s really pushing it! Talking about anything and everything! I’m gonna go tear her fucking mouth off!”

Qin Han truly appreciated Xie Ying’s fiery personality; familiarity made her feel comforting.

Yet beneath that comfort, Qin Han felt a pang of sadness.

It was too reminiscent of Yaonan Alley.

Qin Han thought.

Xie Ying stormed toward the door, but Qin Han grabbed her arm. “Don’t go. I can handle this.”

“How will you handle it? Let’s beat her black and blue! Teach her not to spread rumors!”

Qin Han smiled faintly. “I have a plan. Trust me.”

When she smiled like that, it was hard to place who she resembled. Yet there was an unmistakable shadow of someone else who always carried themselves with such calm detachment.

That night, Xie Ying and Qin Han huddled together on a single bed.

Another autumn arrived. Xie Ying fretted, “Little Qin Han, don’t let those whispers make you abandon your dreams.”

The roommates had witnessed Qin Han’s relentless study habits daily.

This girl worked harder than she had in high school. Even Sun Ziyi joked she couldn’t look at Qin Han studying too long, fearing it would trigger nightmares of repeating her third year of high school.

Qin Han shook her head slowly in the darkness. “I won’t give up. This is my chance to escape.”

“Escape?”

Xie Ying sighed softly. “I knew you couldn’t let go, but it’s understandable.”

“Have you let go?”

“No, not really. I’m just glad he didn’t actually transfer to Imperial City. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to endure. Living in the same city makes it impossible to forget.”

It was already the first semester of their second year. Half a year had passed since Xie Ying’s initial enrollment, when she’d been preoccupied with the following year’s college entrance exams.

Her ex-boyfriend had been accepted into a university in Shanghai, creating a clean break across the country’s north-south divide.

“Xie Ying, can I borrow the broadcasting room key tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

The next day during lunch break, Qin Han entered the school’s broadcasting room.

She took a deep breath, sat down, and pressed the microphone button. In a gentle, composed voice, she announced, “Hello everyone. I’m Qin Han from the special education class of the xxth year. I apologize for interrupting your lunch break, but I need three minutes to clarify campus rumors.”

Qin Han methodically detailed her academic achievements since entering university, then clarified her relationship with Du Zhi.

Finally, she smiled. “Rumors die at the feet of wisdom. May your studies progress smoothly and your lives remain joyful. Regarding the exchange student slot, I’m willing to retake the exam under the supervision of all faculty and students, proving this opportunity belongs to me solely through merit.”

She spoke with neither arrogance nor deference, strong yet unyielding.

After delivering these words, she checked the time—exactly three minutes had passed.

Finally, Qin Han played “Cry on My Shoulder.”

On a night when she had wept uncontrollably, someone had strummed guitar strings, playing a simple melody and singing this very song.

Qin Han’s unauthorized use of broadcast time earned her the academy’s censure, requiring a 1500-word self-reflection essay.

Yet in the re-conducted entrance exam for international student slots, her score surpassed the second-place candidate by a full 35 points.

The exchange student position remained hers.

Qin Han departed for the United States in December.

Many events had already passed a year.

In her dormitory, she packed her luggage, bid farewell to her roommates, and when she called for a taxi, the app’s history still showed Yaonan Alley as the destination.

Qin Han stared at the screen for a moment before entering her new destination.

She was going to her father’s company—he’d offered to drive her to the airport.

Over the past year, Qin Han’s relationship with her mother had remained strained.

Sometimes she felt pity for her mother, but at other times, Qin Han grew weary of maintaining pretenses.

Life was full of hardships, and everyone was a victim. It wasn’t fair to expect others’ patience and forgiveness simply because one felt wronged.

On the way to the airport, Father Qin picked up Du Zhi along the way.

Du Zhi was on the same flight as Qin Han, having been invited to deliver a speech at an American university.

This was Father Qin’s second meeting with Du Zhi.

Du Zhi was a woman who could never let a conversation die. Humorous, tolerant, and full of vitality, she brought life to every gathering.

Outside the window, winter twilight painted the sky with pale blue hues, the horizon stained by the sunset’s amber glow. The city’s silhouette began to sparkle as lights came alive one by one.

If there was anything Father Qin couldn’t bear to leave about Imperial City, it was that old street that kept appearing in his dreams.

While checking luggage at the airport, Qin Han asked her father, “Would you choose a woman like Dean Du to walk through the rest of your life with?”

Father Qin smiled. “Darling, your mother already occupies that place in my life.”

For a moment, Qin Han was stunned. “But you two…”

Weren’t you divorced?

No matter how much Qin Han had grown this year, in her father’s eyes, she remained a child.

Seeing through her thoughts, he said with a smile, “Your mother and I… we also had our own, very beautiful times.”

Those were the most moving words Qin Han had heard all year.

“We also had our own, very beautiful times.”

As they passed through security, Qin Han’s phone vibrated once in the tray. The screen lit up, showing an unread message.

After passing through security, Qin Han put her jacket back on before unlocking her phone.

It was a WeChat message from Zhang Yuqing.

For a moment, Qin Han found it hard to breathe.

But when she opened it, the screen only showed a few letters:

[ ohh ]

Probably Beibei or Dandan accidentally pressed it.

She stood frozen in place, lost in thought. After passing through security, Du Zhi patted her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Qin Han tucked away her phone, nodded, and followed Du Zhi.

Once on board, Qin Han settled into her seat and opened a book. Du Zhi smiled. “Little Qin Han, on this long journey, is there anything you want to share? It’s been ages since you last told me about your personal life. I almost miss that night you came crying to my place.”

Qin Han shook her head, deflecting the question. “Director Du, would you like a blanket?”

Du Zhi’s piercing gaze swept over her. She chuckled and recited verses from Xin Qiji’s poetry, teasing Qin Han, “When young, I knew not sorrow’s taste, climbed towers high. Climb towers high, forced new verses to feign woe. Now knowing sorrow’s fullness, I hold back words. Hold back words, yet say: ‘How cool the autumn air’.”

Stewardesses delivered two blankets, warning of the upcoming chill.

As Qin Han accepted the blanket, she heard Du Zhi ask, “Though you’re exceptional in every way, I must ask—is there truly no personal reason behind your exchange program?”

The plane began taxiing down the runway, accelerating for takeoff.

The cabin lifted as wheels retracted.

“Yes.”

“Because of romance?”

“Because of Zhang Yuqing.”

Du Zhi’s laughter cut through the roar as she changed the subject, “Little Qin Han, let me tell you about my ex-husband. Perfect way to pass the time.”

Amidst the engine’s rumble, Qin Han folded a corner of her page before closing the book.

The folded page held Gu Cheng’s poem.

“In the places where the night grows darkest lamps crowd together.

They are always there together; we will meet again, sooner or later.”