Sweet Oxygen - Chapter 54

Chapter 54 – In His Arms

I don’t want to be that decent person anymore

——

“Zhang Yuqing, I’m at your shop entrance.”

Qin Han stood by the window where she had once taken shelter from the rain.

After saying this, she heard a muffled sound from the phone, like something being knocked over. Then she saw Zhang Yuqing suddenly push open the bedroom door and stride out, pulling on a short-sleeved shirt as he walked.

Perhaps because he was in a hurry, he didn’t look out the window. He only said into the phone, “Wait there.”

Qin Han saw the firm waist revealed as he dressed, and she could vaguely make out the lines of his abs.

She suddenly recalled last night, in the cramped darkness of the hallway, the sound of his breaths against her ear and neck, and the warmth of his breath.

Qin Han’s cheeks began to burn.

Zhang Yuqing strode across the room. For the last few steps, he simply grabbed the stair railing and jumped down.

It was like one of those high school boys rushing to the bathroom for a smoke break.

His sudden movement startled Beibei, who had been sleeping on the floor. Beibei leaped up and barked furiously at him.

Zhang Yuqing ignored the dog and walked straight to the door.

He pushed open the shop door and saw Qin Han, his expression somewhat complicated.

Qin Han held only his jacket in her hands, carrying nothing else.

For a moment, it was unclear whether she had come to distance herself from him because she’d found a boyfriend.

Zhang Yuqing fell into a brief silence before his expression returned to normal.

He took the jacket from Qin Han and smiled. “Come in.”

It wasn’t yet 8 o’clock, and a few people carrying soy milk and fried dough sticks occasionally passed by on the street.

Zhang Yuqing had clearly just showered. His short hair was still damp, clinging to moisture.

He dressed in his usual style: jeans and a plain short-sleeved shirt without any patterns.

In truth, Qin Han hadn’t been completely out of touch with Zhang Yuqing’s news these past few years.

She remembered Li Nan posting a WeChat Moments update last year, “Qing-ge is badass! Let’s all strive to be like Qing-ge!”

The post included a chat screenshot from some group and a link to an online course registration page.

The gist was that Zhang Yuqing’s tattoo skills had been recognized by a highly renowned international tattoo artist. The tattoo legend publicly declared on social media that if they couldn’t secure a spot in his own online course, attending Zhang Yuqing’s lectures would be just as good.

He even used a Chinese idiom in jest, saying that the “qing” in Zhang Yuqing’s name was the kind that “comes from indigo but surpasses it in hue.”

Many people wanted to take Zhang Yuqing’s online classes, including tattoo artists from Korea and the United States who signed up.

Some of his classes were paid, while others were free shares.

The paid ones were quite expensive, yet spots still filled up quickly.

Qin Han knew Zhang Yuqing had succeeded.

He was someone who could shine no matter where he went.

Dean Du was right—he was a youth whose spirit remained unbroken even when life tried to crush him.

Even with countless burdens weighing on his shoulders, he could still live brilliantly.

She thought that if she ever got another chance to visit Zhang Yuqing’s “Oxygen,” it might have changed completely by then.

The decor would undoubtedly become more luxurious, and the furnishings would surely be updated.

Her days in the United States were busy, but sometimes while waiting for the bus or subway, Qin Han would idly wonder.

“I wonder if that air conditioner costing several thousand dollars is still there?”

Now she knew—the air conditioner was still there.

Not just the air conditioner—almost nothing in the furnishings had changed.

The slightly deformed little cactus on the windowsill had grown into a full plant, now bearing two pale yellow flowers.

Beibei had become a large dog, its golden coat gleaming with health. When it wagged its tail, the motion spanned the length of its entire body from those early days.

The furnishings remained unchanged, and the shop still carried that familiar bamboo fragrance.

It was as if the years had been an illusion, leaving this place frozen in that summer of Yaonan. Here, in the depths of time, he waited silently for her return.

Qin Han sat at the table with visible restraint.

Zhang Yuqing moved with practiced ease, retrieving a glass cup from the windowsill rack.

The fingertips Qin Han had placed on the table curled briefly.

Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming urge to cry.

Back then, she and Li Nan had spent their days at Zhang Yuqing’s shop. Luo Shijin would often push open the rear door, carrying baskets of meticulously selected fruits and vegetables. He’d thump his chest with each delivery, guaranteeing their absolute sweetness.

The summer heat left them perpetually parched. Convinced of the waste in disposable cups, they’d established a system: each person claimed a glass cup.

Luo Shijin’s cup bore a black stripe.

Li Nan’s featured a small daisy.

Zhang Yuqing’s cup had no patterns.

Qin Han’s was made of pale pink glass.

Back then, these four glass cups were displayed on the windowsill rack all day.

Now, Zhang Yuqing picked up the one he used back then. Even though he hadn’t come here for years, the cup had always remained.

He poured warm water into the glass and placed it in front of Qin Han.

Both hesitated over how to start, but a customer entered the shop.

Qin Han rushed out, not having properly organized her words. She quickly said, “Go ahead and take care of your business. I’ll wait for you.”

Zhang Yuqing glanced at her. “Ten minutes?”

“Mm.”

In truth, it didn’t matter how long he took. Qin Han actually wished he would stay busy longer.

Now, whenever she saw Zhang Yuqing, her eyes kept drifting toward his lips.

Last night, he hadn’t truly kissed her. To be honest, she was still somewhat disappointed.

How disappointed? After so many years, she’d actually dreamed about kissing him again.

Perhaps she’d made some progress over the years, because in the dream, the person didn’t stop at her lips. They kissed down her neck.

Their lips moved against each other.

Qin Han took a deep breath, telling herself she couldn’t get lost in such things.

She’d worked hard for years. She needed to show her mature charm.

She recalled the “ohh” Zhang Yuqing had sent her.

Why not use this as my opening line?

I’ll ask him: Zhang Yuqing, what did you mean by that “ohh” you sent me back then?

I’m here now. I can stay by your side.

Having decided on this approach, Qin Han pulled out her phone. She typed “ohh” and sent it to herself, then long-pressed the message to translate.

Xie Nan had said that “ohh” translated to “Stay by my side” in WeChat.

After pressing translate, Qin Han stared in confusion.

What’s going on? Why does it translate to “Oh”?

Where’s the promised “Stay by my side”?

She tried translating it several more times, but it always came up as “Oh”.

Suddenly, panic seized her. Could it be that the “ohh” she’d received back then was just a random press from Beibei?

Then does Zhang Yuqing actually like me?

Meanwhile, Zhang Yuqing was equally anxious, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He found himself distracted even while attending to customers.

He’d always considered himself a man of sound principles, but now, only one thought consumed his mind—

Dump your boyfriend and be with me.

After about four or five minutes, Zhang Yuqing finally saw off the customer.

He turned to look at Qin Han.

The young woman sat by the window, her head bowed in quiet contemplation.

Just like that summer day when she sat by the window reading, engrossed for hours.

She had often sat there motionless.

Sometimes because she couldn’t bear to shoo away a bug resting on her arm, sometimes because Beibei had fallen asleep across her lap.

This time, she was waiting for him—waiting for him to talk to her.

All their entanglements would find resolution today.

Zhang Yuqing approached. Before he could speak, he noticed the pink flush at the base of Qin Han’s eyelids—she looked ready to cry.

He froze, all his prepared words vanishing.

He strode over, standing before Qin Han. Bending down to meet her gaze, he soothed gently, “Don’t cry. I was wrong. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Even if she said, “Zhang Yuqing, never show your face before my boyfriend and me again. I’m perfectly fine now.”

He would have kept that promise.

Feeling helpless, Zhang Yuqing ruffled her hair. “Anything you want, just say the word. Don’t cry.”

Qin Han sniffled, lifting her head to thrust her phone at him. Her voice brimmed with wounded indignation, “Why does it translate to ‘Oh’? Why ‘Oh’ of all things?”

Zhang Yuqing glanced at her screen.

There it was—the “ohh” he’d sent years ago.

He remembered that day—it was the day Qin Han was leaving for abroad.

Du Zhi had called early that morning, gloating and pouring salt on the wound. “Xiao Qinhan’s going abroad, you know. You little rascal, you really did it this time. You forced the poor girl to flee to another country just to forget about you?”

At the time, Zhang Yuqing had maintained his composure, his tone measured. “Studying abroad is a good opportunity for her. Don’t reduce her efforts to mere heartbreak—it’s unfair to her.”

Du Zhi let out a series of derisive “oohs” before hanging up abruptly.

After the call ended, Zhang Yuqing couldn’t keep pretending anymore.

She was leaving the country?

When would she return?

Did this mean he’d have no chance of running into her in Imperial City ever again?

That evening, after drinking too much, he impulsively sent “ohh” to Qin Han.

He waited for hours, but the girl didn’t respond.

Zhang Yuqing laughed bitterly that day.

See? You’re overestimating your importance. The girl’s studying abroad for her education, not because of you.

With Du Zhi’s silver tongue, how could you believe her?

Now, seeing the content of that message, Zhang Yuqing felt a mix of emotions.

He looked at Qin Han, his voice gentle. “What translation would you prefer?”

“What did you mean by sending me this back then?”

She’s grown up, asking questions now.

Zhang Yuqing said, “To stay and keep me company.”

From upstairs, Beibei’s playful running echoed through the house, the rhythmic “thump-thump-thump” of footsteps drifting down.

The summer sun’s glare, almost blinding, streamed through the window, casting its rays across their figures.

Some words, left unsaid, might never find their chance.

Zhang Yuqing exhaled softly, leaning against the table as he pressed his lips to Qin Han’s ear. “Little girl, I’ve read countless books and seen every romantic expression of love. I told you before—I’m a decent person with a good memory, capable of reciting beautiful lines at will. But just now… I decided against it. I don’t want to be that decent person anymore.”

The girl trembled again. Zhang Yuqing paused briefly, then drew closer until his lips nearly brushed her ear, stray strands of hair falling across his nose.

Let whoever wants to be a decent person do it. I’m on strike today.

Zhang Yuqing continued, “I’ll be frank. Back then, I couldn’t bear the thought of you going to America. Now, I can’t bear the thought of you leaving me.”

He gently tucked a strand of hair behind Qin Han’s ear, his lips brushing against the crimson earlobe as he murmured, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I really like you.”

Qin Han’s eyes welled with tears, the rims flushed and glistening. She blinked rapidly, fighting back the moisture. “But you said before… you thought I was too young. You claimed only people over twenty count as adults in your eyes.”

“True, I did say that.”

“Now I’m twenty-two. Does that make me old enough to be your girlfriend?”

Zhang Yuqing stepped back until their eyes met at eye level. His thumb continued caressing her ear, his smile carrying a hint of mischief. “A girl can’t have two boyfriends at once, you know. If you choose me, remember to break up with that foreign heartthrob of yours.”

Electricity seemed to course through Qin Han’s ear, her gaze trapped in Zhang Yuqing’s dark pools. “But I don’t have one,” she stammered.

“Don’t have what?”

“A boyfriend.”

Zhang Yuqing’s eyebrow arched as he produced a photograph from his pocket. “You dropped this in my car. I thought… this was your boyfriend.”

The photograph showed her and Andri.

It had been taken on Christmas Day last year during Park Chi’s test shoot.

Qin Han shook her head. “Andri was my roommate when I was an exchange student, not my boyfriend.”

“Last question.” Zhang Yuqing narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Gu Xun? Someone you have feelings for?”

“A blind date my mother set up. But I told her today I still prefer you.”

“Never had a boyfriend?”

Qin Han tried to shake her head, but Zhang Yuqing’s hand remained pressed against her cheek.

Her movements stiffened, cheeks flushing as her voice dropped to a whisper. “No.”

The girl spoke with earnest sincerity, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears—bright and clear as mountain streams.

She’d changed since high school graduation. The baby fat on her cheeks had vanished, revealing the delicate contours of a young woman.

This face, adorned with light makeup, framed by long lashes and glossy lips, could easily stir masculine desires.

Yet calling her a “little woman” felt wrong—her demeanor carried the innocent obedience of a girl.

In matters of love, she possessed the purest honesty.

Zhang Yuqing had already acted on impulse once last night. He didn’t want to frighten Qin Han again.

But he couldn’t resist.

“Qin Han, stand up.”

Qin Han didn’t understand why, but she stood up as instructed.

She vaguely recalled that Zhang Yuqing rarely addressed her by her full name. His tone wasn’t stern, and Qin Han couldn’t tell what he intended.

Just as Qin Han rose, Zhang Yuqing pulled her into a scorching embrace.

The fresh scent of bamboo from his body enveloped her, permeating her senses and stirring her heart.