Sweet Oxygen - Chapter 60

Chapter 60 – Secret Path

Let’s kiss, little girl

——

Zhang Yuqing pinched Qin Han’s cheek, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Young lady, stop trying to seduce me.”

Li Nan’s voice echoed from downstairs as he entered the apartment. Moments later, Luo Shijin’s booming voice followed, “Are these bags of noodles yours?”

Li Nan, clearly bewildered, replied, “No.”

“Then it must be Qin Han!”

Luo Shijin began calling out, “Qin Han! Qing-ge! Let’s go, let’s go! To the market! By the time we get there, all the fresh greens will be gone!”

Qin Han descended the stairs in her light blue dress, her footsteps echoing against the wooden steps. Li Nan covered his lips with fingers painted in vibrant red nail polish. “Wow, Qin Han, you’re getting more beautiful every day. You look like a little fairy.”

“Holy crap, you’re right,” Luo Shijin chimed in, his eyes wide with admiration.

As they wandered through Yaonan Market, Qin Han’s phone vibrated.

It was Father Qin calling.

She answered cheerfully, “Dad.”

“Oh, it’s the weekend. Let me guess where our little treasure is?” Father Qin pretended to ponder, then chuckled after a dramatic pause. “Is our Xiaohan on a date with her boyfriend?”

Qin Han admitted without hesitation, “Yes.”

Father Qin laughed heartily. “Could it be the medical graduate Mom introduced you to?”

Qin Han and Zhang Yuqing hadn’t officially told their parents about their relationship yet. Caught off guard by the question, the young girl felt somewhat embarrassed.

Her voice softened, but her tone remained honest and cheerful, “It’s Zhang Yuqing. You’ve met him before. Do you remember, Dad?”

“Of course I remember. The handsome man who’s made our Xiaohan so smitten.”

“Dad!”

“You’re dating him? How’s it going?”

“Very well. I’m very happy.”

“That’s good.”

Father Qin’s voice brightened with genuine delight. “But I have a request. Could you spare some time from your date tomorrow to help me entertain Dean Du? I’d also like to discuss some disability assistance projects with you. What do you say?”

“When tomorrow?”

“Midday.”

When Qin Han hung up, Zhang Yuqing stood at a stall with his back to her.

All vendors at Yao Nan Market were middle-aged or older. This particular vendor, an elderly man with graying curls, smiled and chatted with Zhang Yuqing.

The young man always maintained a respectful demeanor around elders, nodding with a smile at everything the old man said.

Qin Han hurried over. “Did you get any good food?”

The old man smiled and asked, “Is this the girlfriend you mentioned? What a lovely young lady.”

Zhang Yuqing replied, “Does she match your flower?”

The old man’s stall was filled with unknown herbs that carried a faint medicinal fragrance. Qin Han didn’t understand their purpose, but even after carefully examining the stall, she couldn’t find the flower Zhang Yuqing had mentioned.

Just as she was puzzled, the vendor turned and pulled out a large bouquet of snow-white flowers from the three-wheeled cart behind him, handing them to Zhang Yuqing.

Before Qin Han could react, Zhang Yuqing had already presented the bouquet to her.

Qin Han’s knowledge of flowers was limited to the small, trendy flower shop outside their neighborhood. Her mother often bought white lilies from there, filling the living room with their delicate fragrance.

Roses, lilies, and carnations for Teacher’s Day—these were the only flowers she recognized. She had no idea what these bowl-sized white blossoms were. After smelling them, she tentatively asked, “Are these peonies?”

The old man chuckled, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “No, dear, these are peonies’ cousins—white peony flowers.”

Qin Han pondered, still confused. “The ones Wang Zengqi wrote about?”

She lowered her voice, a hint of embarrassment coloring her words, “‘Fuck you! I’ll smell however I please’?”

In truth, Zhang Yuqing understood what Qin Han was referring to. She was quoting from Wang Zengqi’s The World of Plants and Vegetables. There was an essay about gardenias,

“Gardenias are coarse and bold, their fragrance so pervasive it can’t be brushed away. Thus, they’re deemed unsuitable for refined tastes, lacking in elegance. The gardenia retorts, ‘Fuck you! I’ll smell however I please—bold and unapologetic. Who the hell are you to judge?'”

He recognized her reference but chose to tease, “Young lady, cursing already?”

“It’s not me.”

Qin Han assumed Zhang Yuqing hadn’t recognized the quote from the book. Flustered, she couldn’t recall the exact phrasing, her face flushing crimson.

Seeing the girl’s pink cheeks, Zhang Yuqing chuckled and patted her head. “Wang Zengqi wrote about gardenias, not peonies.”

“Oh, so it’s gardenias.”

After bidding farewell to the vendor, Qin Han cradled the bouquet, inhaling its fragrance repeatedly. Yet worry crept in. “Zhang Yuqing, these flowers look so beautiful. Are they for hot pot?”

The girl’s mind lacked romantic notions; her market mindset insisted everything here was for cooking. Even the armful of flowers she held—clearly meant for the pot.

Zhang Yuqing smiled and casually said, “These flowers are for you, my little girlfriend.”

Qin Han, walking beside him, paused mid-step. She looked down at the flowers in her hands and beamed brightly. “I love them.”

In her heart, these peonies held different meanings when used as vegetables versus when given as a gift from a boyfriend.

Curious about the peonies, Qin Han gently brushed her fingers against the petals. “Why haven’t I ever seen flower vendors around here before?”

“The old lady we met earlier grows medicinal herbs. The dried roots of these peonies are used in traditional medicine as white peony. The flowers themselves have no medicinal value. I chatted with her yesterday, and she was happy to sell me a bunch.”

“What about those plants in her car? Are they also medicinal?”

“That’s mugwort. It’s commonly used in medicine too. With Dragon Boat Festival approaching, the elders on Yaonan Alley have a tradition of hanging mugwort on their doors to ward off evil and bring good luck.”

After hearing this, Qin Han turned to head back, but Zhang Yuqing stopped her. Surprised, she asked, “Where are you going?”

The little girl said solemnly, “I’ll buy some mugwort too and hang it on your shop door.”

Zhang Yuqing suddenly laughed. “I’m already plenty safe.”

“Qing-ge, Qin Han! Fresh chrysanthemum greens and mugwort here! Which one do you want?”

Luo Shijin, who had been walking ahead, turned back. Leading Dandan, he waved repeatedly at Qin Han and Zhang Yuqing. “I’m so torn! Both chrysanthemum greens and mugwort are delicious. What should I do?”

Li Nan rolled his eyes. “Why are you asking Qing-ge about this? It’s not like he’s the one eating it! Figure it out yourself.”

The vendor clearly recognized Zhang Yuqing. “Yuqing’s here? Oh, and this must be Yuqing’s girlfriend? Such a pretty young lady.”

Luo Shijin eagerly confirmed, “Yes, yes! She’s Qing-ge’s girlfriend.”

The vendor smiled and asked, “Then what about the young girl beside you? Is she your girlfriend too?”

Li Nan snorted. “Nope, grandpa. I’m not into him. Besides, I’m a guy.”

The vendor, clearly unused to seeing such flamboyantly dressed men—red nail polish, a dress, and high heels—stared in bewilderment.

After a long moment, the old man scratched his head and said, “We’re all out of touch with trends now. Young people these days sure know how to look good.”

Perhaps the old man’s gentle tone soothed some delicate nerve hidden beneath Li Nan’s boisterous exterior. Li Nan ended up buying a mountain of every dish available.

On the way back, Luo Shijin complained, “Li Nan! You’re acting like Grandma Zhang—just a bit of praise and you start spending like a madman. How are we going to finish all this food?”

Zhang Yuqing suggested, “We’ll keep cooking hotpot tonight.”

Li Nan ignored Luo Shijin’s grumbling and pulled Qin Han over. “Qin Han, you look stunning in that dress with those flowers. Let me take a photo!”

Qin Han stood in Yaonan Alley, a bouquet of white peonies in her arms. The sun shone brightly on her pale blue dress as she beamed.

She later posted the photo to her social feed.

Mother Qin commented, asking if the dress was new, and it looked lovely.

Qin Han replied generously that both the dress and flowers were gifts from Zhang Yuqing.

The hotpot simmered for hours, its clear broth bubbling with vegetables and meat. Dipped in rich sesame paste, the ingredients became communal fare as the group ate and chatted, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

In the afternoon, the old lady who sold iced sour plum juice on the street delivered her homemade plum wine. Zhang Yuqing stored it in the fridge, and when they cooked hotpot that evening, they had chilled plum wine to drink.

Qin Han had a decent tolerance for alcohol and could drink without losing composure.

She took a large bite of meat, followed by a sip of plum wine, and exhaled contentedly.

Zhang Yuqing leaned over, gently wiping the corner of Qin Han’s mouth with the back of his finger to remove a wine stain.

Beibei chased moths in the early summer night while Dandan sat by the window humming a school song.

She couldn’t quite remember the lyrics, only some of the melody, with occasional phrases popping out.

“Fire onions flying all over the sky, blind wind blowing through the night.”

Luo Shijin swallowed a large piece of lamb and looked at Dandan. “Dandan, ‘fire onions flying all over the sky’? That doesn’t sound right. I remember it as ‘fireflies’?”

Li Nan, who was pouring plum wine, tried humming a few notes before smoothly singing, “Fireflies, fireflies flying all over the sky.”

After a pause, he confirmed Luo Shijin’s memory. “It’s definitely fireflies.”

At the mention of fireflies, Luo Shijin opened up about how they used to see them in the back alleys of Yaonan Alley, but now they’re gone.

Qin Han rested her chin in her hand, her eyes sparkling with longing. “I’ve never seen fireflies before.”

By the time dinner was finished, it was already past 9 PM. Dandan had gone upstairs to sleep after her nightly routine, Beibei was sprawled out in the living room, and Li Nan and Luo Shijin were clearing the table.

Zhang Yuqing leaned close to Qin Han’s ear. “Little girl, would you like to see fireflies?”

“But Luo Shijin said they’re no longer found in Yao Nan.”

Zhang Yuqing took Qin Han’s hand. “Follow me.”

Yaonan Alley’s summer night remained unchanged—darkness enveloped the street with only a half-full moon illuminating the buildings. The symphony of insect songs mixed with the rustling of night breeze through weeds. Qin Han’s hand was tightly held as they slowly approached a particularly dim alleyway.

Zhang Yuqing explained that this narrow lane had once housed a factory for sewing work. After the factory’s closure, the row of flat-roofed houses had stood empty since his elementary school days.

The factory’s windows had long lost their glass, allowing weeds to flourish inside. The roof beams were draped in climbing ivy, creating an eerie silence.

Zhang Yuqing wiped the windowsill clean before lifting Qin Han onto it.

He propped himself on the windowsill and casually jumped over to sit beside her.

Qin Han, somewhat puzzled, swung her legs as she asked, “Why would it be empty for so many years?”

“Maybe because there’s a ghost?”

Zhang Yuqing finished speaking, noticing the young girl shooting him a resentful glare.

Qin Han’s good-natured glare held no real threat. Instead, her gaze carried a soft allure that stirred temptation.

“Just teasing you.”

“Then are there really fireflies here?”

“Wait a moment. There should be some, but not many.”

Zhang Yuqing tilted his head, gazing at Qin Han under the moonlight. “Little girl, I suddenly regret something.”

“What do you regret?”

The moonlight illuminated Zhang Yuqing’s face, casting a cold, detached aura that made Qin Han feel uneasy.

Instead, he said, “This ‘taking things slow’… it seems a bit too slow when we’ve already said we like each other. I want to kiss you now.”

Zhang Yuqing leaned closer, gently caressing Qin Han’s earlobe. His voice dripped with temptation. “Let’s kiss, little girl.”

Qin Han’s earlobe burned as she gave a barely perceptible nod.

In the next moment, Zhang Yuqing wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned down. Like a gentle evening breeze brushing tree branches, he pressed his lips to hers.