◎ Take a Deep Breath ◎

Outside the hospital ward, snow fell in thick, swirling flurries. It was a three-patient room, and Luo Peiyin occupied the bed closest to the window.

Gu Qiao looked at the bandage on Luo Peiyin’s forehead and the bruising that had been left unbandaged, and said quietly:

“I’m sorry.”

If she hadn’t insisted on going to the Summer Palace to see the snow — or if she had insisted on going but not on driving herself — or if she had insisted on driving but had kept a cooler head and not slammed on the brakes — Luo Peiyin would never have been hurt.

“I don’t want to say ‘it’s fine’ a second time. A few more times driving and you’ll be all right. To be honest, I wanted to go see the snow at the Summer Palace too.”

“But…”

But that wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Earlier that evening, Luo Peiyin had come to Gu Qiao’s stall and told her they shouldn’t go to the Summer Palace today — the roads were too slippery, and the paths inside the Summer Palace would likely be treacherous as well. When he was young and visited in the snow, he would often see people falling and fracturing bones. Gu Qiao had insisted on going, saying it would be even more beautiful in the snow, and that she would be very careful. She had insisted on driving herself, telling him not to worry — her driving skills were good, and she drove on icy roads regularly.

Perhaps Gu Qiao had sounded so utterly convincing, with a look that brooked no argument, that Luo Peiyin had believed her. He handed over the wheel and let her drive the first stretch.

In the snow, Gu Qiao drove carefully and steadily, and halfway through she refused Luo Peiyin’s offer to take over. She was determined to drive all the way herself. To keep her full concentration on the road and steering wheel, Gu Qiao even talked much less than usual. Luo Peiyin didn’t disturb her either. Of the only three things he said to her, the last was telling Gu Qiao to tap the brakes when her old yellow van started sliding.

But in the panic of the moment, Gu Qiao hit the brakes hard — and that single hard brake sent the yellow van straight into a roadside drainage ditch.

The passenger side tilted into the ditch. Gu Qiao herself was unharmed, but she saw that Luo Peiyin’s forehead was bleeding.

“Cousin!”

Her voice of alarm, sharp with urgency, cut through the snowy air with penetrating force — it nearly broke.

Gu Qiao leaned close to Luo Peiyin’s face, wanting to see how badly he was hurt. A thousand thoughts flew through her mind, not a single one about her van — she was thinking only about how to get him to hospital.

Tears gathered in Gu Qiao’s eyes as she gazed at him. Looking at those eyes, Luo Peiyin was almost convinced he must be at death’s door. Her reaction was, by any measure, far too dramatic. He made a preliminary assessment and concluded he had only suffered some surface injuries, then took out his white handkerchief to stop the bleeding.

With this kind of agitated person beside him, Luo Peiyin found himself calmer than usual: “Stop making a fuss. I’m fine. Push open your door and get out first.”

Gu Qiao reined in her excess emotion. She knew that emotion was useless right now. “Cousin, what do you need me to do?”

“Get out of the car. Find somewhere safe to stand. If you don’t get out, I can’t get out either.”

Gu Qiao, upon hearing this, climbed out of the car door as quickly as she possibly could. The snow fell in great drifting sweeps, and there was very little traffic on this stretch of road. At that moment Gu Qiao wished she had a mobile phone — then she could call the hospital or the nearest taxi company.

Gu Qiao watched Luo Peiyin shift from the passenger seat to the back seat, then crawl out through the rear door.

The area was nearly deserted. Hailing a taxi on this stretch of road would be difficult.

“Wait here. I’ll get the car out.”

“Forget the car, let’s just go straight to the hospital.” Gu Qiao stood on her tiptoes and wound her own scarf around Luo Peiyin’s neck. Her gaze rested on the scrape. “You wait here — I’ll run ahead and find a vehicle. It’s only about two more li before there are more people. I run very fast. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Luo Peiyin moved toward the car. Gu Qiao grabbed one of his hands. “Cousin…”

“This time, follow my lead.”

Gu Qiao started to say more. Luo Peiyin said: “If the car isn’t out in fifteen minutes, we’ll do it your way.”

Luo Peiyin was no stranger to this kind of situation. He also owned a beat-up car — a 1970s Chevrolet. His finances only stretched to something old and worn-down, and he had recently gained extensive experience driving a clunker around America. On a drive from San Francisco to Missouri, he had encountered far worse blizzards than this. The car had gotten stuck in the snow much more severely. But that was behind him now, just one more entry in his catalogue of experience.

In this kind of situation, one person in the car was enough — he had no expectation that Gu Qiao could help him. He never expected Gu Qiao to be able to help him with anything.

Snowflakes landed on Gu Qiao’s face, drifting into her slightly parted mouth. Gu Qiao swallowed every word she had wanted to say, the cold flakes melting slowly in her mouth. In weather like this, she didn’t feel cold in the slightest. Her gaze cycled between Luo Peiyin, the car, and her digital watch — and with forty seconds to spare before the fifteen minutes were up, the car was pulled out of the ditch.

“Sit in the back.”

Luo Peiyin took the driver’s seat and moved Gu Qiao to the back.

Gu Qiao got in without a word, assuming Luo Peiyin was heading to the hospital.

The car moved smoothly. The yellow van finally pulled up near a bus stop.

Luo Peiyin produced a key and held it out to Gu Qiao: “Take the bus back to my place from here and rest. I’ll go to the hospital. I might not come back tonight.” With a rear-wheel drive vehicle, even in the snow, he could manage alone — but Gu Qiao was still in the car, and he needed to get to the hospital. He didn’t think anything serious was wrong, but he wasn’t the type to take physical risks.

“I’m coming with you.”

Luo Peiyin rewrapped the scarf around Gu Qiao’s neck, then spoke to her plainly: “If you come with me, it will be a complication. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a situation like this — I know how to handle it.”

Every word Gu Qiao had been about to say dissolved in her mouth the moment she heard the word “complication.” She didn’t attempt to defend herself. “Then tell me which hospital, and I’ll come to see you.”

Gu Qiao hailed a red Xiali and followed her yellow van into the hospital.

When Gu Qiao stepped out of the red Xiali and appeared before Luo Peiyin again, she smiled and said, “Trust me — I won’t cause you any trouble.”

But with Gu Qiao alongside him, Luo Peiyin genuinely felt it was a complication. He had absolutely no need for company at a time like this. Alone, he was more efficient. With two people, there were all those inquiring questions to contend with — concerned though they were.

When Gu Qiao offered another expression of concern, Luo Peiyin said, “Could you be quiet for a moment?”

Gu Qiao paused for two seconds, then produced a smile and answered in her clear, bright voice: “Of course!” She didn’t say another word.

That “of course” shook Luo Peiyin. He glanced sideways and saw the smile still lingering at the corner of her mouth. His voice softened: “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Luo Peiyin didn’t reach out to pat Gu Qiao’s hair — his hands had gotten filthy from the stones he had used to wedge under the wheels when trying to free the van, and his handkerchief hadn’t cleaned them fully.

In addition to the bleeding wound on his forehead, there were other abrasions in various places. After treatment and dressing, the doctor said there didn’t appear to be any serious issues, but he should be admitted for observation as a precaution against internal cranial bleeding.

Gu Qiao’s thoughts came back to the hospital ward.

She was looking into Luo Peiyin’s eyes and had just begun to say “but” when Luo Peiyin didn’t let her finish.

“Take a taxi back to my place — it’s closer. Rest there for now. And don’t drive your van in the snow. Rear-wheel drive cars are risky in these conditions.”

Gu Qiao had already realized this risk.

Gu Qiao had been considering staying in the ward to keep him company, but thinking about how he had not eaten anything yet, and that the hospital’s meal service had already ended, she decided she needed to go and get him something to eat.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow. Besides a change of clothes, is there anything else you need?”

“Don’t trouble yourself — I’ll be discharged tomorrow. Go get some proper sleep.”

“The doctor said you need to be observed for at least three days. There may be a risk of internal cranial bleeding — please stay and rest easy at the hospital.”

At any other time, Gu Qiao would never have taken a Toyota Crown taxi — the starting fare was far too extravagant for her. A Xiali was the most she would allow herself. But tonight, after waiting five minutes without a single Xiali appearing, she resolutely hailed a Crown.

It was too late to go to the market or a provisions shop for groceries. Gu Qiao had the Crown stop in front of a small restaurant, knowing the kitchen would have exactly what she needed.

The owner asked Gu Qiao what dishes she wanted to order. Gu Qiao asked to buy raw ingredients and meat directly from the kitchen. The owner was puzzled — who buys uncooked produce from a restaurant kitchen? — but Gu Qiao didn’t explain. She simply pulled out her money purse and started naming what she needed: Chinese yam, celery, taro…

With her vegetables and groceries, Gu Qiao returned to the Crown. Luo Peiyin’s place had no wok for stir-frying, so she had to go back to her own home to cook.

Gu Qiao returned to her own flat and began simmering congee and preparing dishes.

When the congee and dishes were ready, she packed them into insulated containers, then wrapped the containers in an old padded jacket. She also bundled her cooking oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and a wok into an old garment and loaded everything into her three-wheeled cargo bike she no longer used. Along with it all went her roasted tangerines and two large apples from Elder Auntie Chen.

This time she didn’t take a taxi — the fare was too expensive, and besides, she’d need the cargo bike tomorrow to haul goods back. She wasn’t planning to drive her yellow van for the time being.

Gu Qiao set off on her cargo bike through the snow, just as she had done every day before she had the yellow van. Against the white snow, the whole world felt vast and boundless. There was almost no one on the road — just the snowflakes pressing into her scarf. In the sprawling white expanse, she sang to herself. The scarf muffled her voice, but it couldn’t contain it entirely, and her clear bright singing rose into the air above her. She heard her own echo.

Gu Qiao pedaled to Luo Peiyin’s apartment and picked up a few discs so he’d have something to listen to in the ward. She gathered his towel, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a change of clothes, and — after a single glance at his underwear — stuffed that into his bag too without looking again. She also borrowed his sleeping bag.

She arrived at the hospital with all of this before lights-out.

The other two patients in the ward each had a family member attending to them. Only Luo Peiyin had no one — though he himself seemed entirely unbothered.

The first thing Gu Qiao said to Luo Peiyin was: “I didn’t drive my van.”

The second was: “Cousin, you must be hungry. I brought food I made for you.”

A nurse had been kind to Luo Peiyin, guessing he hadn’t eaten, and had brought him bread and an apple.

Luo Peiyin watched as Gu Qiao placed her things one by one on the bedside table: one insulated container, then another, then tangerines, apples, a cup.

“Cousin, have some water first — it’s hot.”

She opened the cup, then the insulated thermos — inside was Chinese yam congee. The other container held steamed taro and her stir-fry.

Luo Peiyin’s gaze moved from Gu Qiao’s hands to her face. On a night like this, the tips of her hair had been dampened by sweat — it was sweat, not melted snow.

There were other people in the ward. All the touches that should have accompanied this moment became looks instead. Gu Qiao felt the weight of that look, and lowered her head, not meeting his eyes. “Eat up quickly.”

She then announced to Luo Peiyin: “I’m not leaving tonight. I’ll stay here with you. I brought your sleeping bag — I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Eat with me.”

“I’ve already eaten.” While waiting for the congee to finish cooking, she had eaten an apple and drunk a cup of powdered milk. She had brushed her teeth before coming.

Aside from watching Luo Peiyin drink his congee, Gu Qiao had nothing to do. He had always chewed and swallowed with his mouth closed, saying nothing while he ate. With table manners this refined, Gu Qiao couldn’t tell at all whether he liked the food or not. She didn’t have a television at home now — she had once watched TV at the Chen family’s, and there had been an advertisement for eight-treasure congee. The boy in the advertisement had been slurping it down with obvious relish, awe and delight written all over his face. That kind of eating was undeniably inelegant, but it certainly worked for a food commercial. Luo Peiyin’s table manners, if used in an advertisement, would have zero appeal to any viewer.

Luo Peiyin noticed Gu Qiao’s gaze and looked up at her. Gu Qiao immediately said, “Let me pour you some water to wash your face.”

Luo Peiyin nearly laughed — where had she gotten the idea he was incapable of looking after himself?

“I can manage.”

There was a curtain between the beds. Luo Peiyin drew it and said to Gu Qiao, “Get some rest.”

Mindful of the other patients in the ward, Gu Qiao kept her voice low. “I’m not sleepy in the least. What do you need me to do? Don’t stand on ceremony — I can do anything.” Someone who could look after themselves was of course perfectly capable of looking after someone else.

Gu Qiao had come to the hospital to care for Luo Peiyin, yet he needed nothing from her. He washed his own face, brushed his own teeth, and even rinsed out the food containers she had brought.

The ward lights went out. The glow of the silver-white world outside seeped in through the curtains that hadn’t been fully drawn. By that faint light, Gu Qiao sat up and leaned close to look at the bandage on Luo Peiyin’s forehead. The two of them were very close. She could hear his breathing — she guessed he had probably fallen asleep.

She took a deep breath, and after letting it out, drew another. Then another. It was the first time Gu Qiao had realized she could hold her breath that long. After the third deep breath, she pressed her lips against Luo Peiyin’s.

His lips were very soft, and a little cold. The moment her lips touched that slight coldness, her whole body grew warm. Her lips hadn’t yet moved away when a hand closed around her shoulder.

Luo Peiyin gripped Gu Qiao’s shoulder, and her lips grew even warmer — she felt Luo Peiyin’s lips growing warm as well. Gu Qiao’s eyes opened wider and wider. She strained to see Luo Peiyin’s face by that faint snowy light filtering in, anxious not to brush against his injury.

Even as he kissed her eyelids, Gu Qiao kept her eyes determinedly open.

—