The Thing He Didn't Dare Ask Before Remarrying Got Stuck on a Shopping List

Ahong's remarriage was set for the fall, and the invitations were already printed. But late one Tuesday night, he called his old friend A-Qin, and the first thing he said was, "Do you think I should go get checked first?" A-Qin froze for three seconds, then replied, "Are you asking me, or asking your own knee?" They both laughed, but Ahong didn't hang up. He sat in the living room, an old shopping list spread out on the coffee table that he'd dug out of a drawer. It had a few health supplements written on it, and one line was circled in ballpoint pen with a question mark next to it. He'd jotted it down half a year ago after seeing someone discuss it online, and at the time he hadn't thought much of it. Now it felt like a tiny splinter stuck in his heart.

A-Qin didn't give advice right away. He just asked, "Does your fiancée know you're worried about this?" Ahong said no—he was afraid that bringing it up would make him look unsure of himself. A-Qin was quiet for a moment, then said, "What you're afraid of isn't your body. It's being seen as 'someone with a problem.'" That sentence left Ahong silent for a long time. He thought about the later years of his previous marriage, when the two of them barely talked about these things, just lived their own separate lives, and eventually couldn't even be bothered to argue. Now that he was starting over, he didn't want to walk the same road again, but he didn't know where to begin. The question mark on that list wasn't really about a product—it was about himself: Can I still face another person properly?

The next day at noon, Ahong took a photo of the list and sent it to A-Qin, asking, "What exactly are these?" A-Qin replied quickly: "Just take it to a pharmacist and ask. Don't guess on your own." Ahong said okay, but after work he still opened his computer first. He typed in a string of keywords, and the results that popped up were partly ads, partly forum discussions, with contradictory claims. The more he read, the more confused he got, so he just closed all the windows. He realized what he really wanted to know wasn't "which brand" but "is this normal for me." That's a question a search engine can't answer.

On the weekend, Ahong went with his fiancée to a big-box store to restock household goods. Passing the pharmacy, he made an excuse about needing throat lozenges and walked in alone. The pharmacist was a middle-aged man organizing shelves. Ahong handed him the list, pointed to the circled line, and asked, "This one—what should I do first?" The pharmacist glanced at it and didn't answer directly. Instead he asked, "Who gave you this list?" Ahong said he'd seen it online. The pharmacist nodded and said, "I can't tell you about any effects here, but I can tell you that in Taiwan, how these things are classified depends on the packaging label. Some are food, some aren't. If what you're concerned about is your health, you should see a doctor first, bring this list, and ask about it along with the supplements you normally take." Ahong pressed further: "What about Japanese Tengsu?" The pharmacist said, "For that question, I'd suggest you ask a doctor or pharmacist directly. Don't rely only on the internet. Treat it as something to verify, not as an answer."

When Ahong walked out of the pharmacy, all he had in his hand was a box of throat lozenges, but he felt a little lighter inside. He realized he'd been mixing up "looking up information" with "making a decision." Back home, he told his fiancée he wanted to get a health checkup next week. She was cutting fruit and didn't even look up, just said, "Sure, I'll go with you." Ahong was a bit surprised: "You're not going to ask why?" She said, "You've been scrolling on your phone in the living room late at night lately. I thought you were looking at stocks." Ahong laughed and said, "Harder to understand than stocks." She handed him a piece of apple and said, "Then let's figure it out together."

On the day of the exam, during the consultation, Ahong took out the list and several photos of packaging he'd saved on his phone. The doctor didn't give a "works" or "doesn't work" conclusion about any single item. He just said, "For the parts you're worried about, let's look at the data first, and refer you to a specialist if needed. As for the supplements, list them out and I'll help you see if there's any overlap with other things." Ahong nodded. For the first time, he felt he wasn't "looking for an answer" but "organizing the questions." He thought of what A-Qin had said—"What you're afraid of isn't your body"—and now he felt that maybe what he was afraid of was not knowing how to ask.

Two weeks later, the report came out. Most of the numbers were within range, and the doctor only reminded him to adjust his sleep schedule and stress levels. Ahong put the list back in the drawer. He didn't throw it away, but he crossed out the question mark. He called A-Qin and said, "I've decided—from now on, if I have a question, I'll ask a professional. No more circling and crossing things out on my own." A-Qin replied, "You finally get it. Circling something doesn't turn it into an answer." Ahong said, "But my fiancée said she thought I was looking at stocks." They laughed again for a while.

The night before the wedding, Ahong hung up his suit, and a message from A-Qin popped up on his phone: "Don't be late tomorrow. If you're late, I'll read out everything on your list." Ahong sent back a sticker and turned off the screen. He walked to the living room, where his fiancée was confirming the guest list. She looked up and asked, "Still nervous?" Ahong said, "Yeah, but this time I know what to ask first." She nodded and went back to drawing table assignments. Ahong looked at the list, now put away again, and thought about the road these past few months—from the late-night phone call to the pharmacy to the exam room. It wasn't really about finding a product. It was about giving himself the courage to say his uncertainties out loud in front of another person. He closed the drawer and felt that was enough.