Heading for the Plains - Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Typos Stirred My Heart

Her entire body went stiff. “I… I…? I don’t have a nickname.”

One look at her face told Ping Yuan there was a ghost in the room. Ping Yuan tilted her head, staring at her suspiciously.

How could someone’s eyes look so beautiful even in the dark? The hazy shadows hid the bloodshot lines of exhaustion, making their eye contact feel strangely intimate. Xia Chao listened to the sound of their shared breathing and suddenly realized they had been chatting in the dark for quite a while, yet neither had thought to turn on a light.

Not even a tiny nightlight.

This wasn’t a good sign. The darkness was too heavy, too blurring; under such a gaze, it felt as if anything could happen.

Panic surged within her, bringing her to the brink of collapse, yet she fought a desperate rear-guard action. Sitting on the sofa, she said weakly, “I really don’t have a nickname…”

“Is that so?” Ping Yuan suddenly let out a short laugh. “Then I’ll give you three seconds to think about it. If you lie to me, for every second I count down, you’ll have to write an extra practice essay.”

Xia Chao’s eyes widened in terror. “You!”

“That’s a total abuse of power! Using public office for private revenge!”

“Two…”

“This isn’t fair!”

“One.”

The sound of the countdown and the plea for mercy rang out simultaneously. Xia Chao had completely surrendered. “I confess! I confess!”

She cast a resentful glance at Ping Yuan. After a long pause, she spoke with great reluctance: “My mom used to call me Chaochao. ‘Chao’ as in the morning sun (Zhao).”

“Isn’t that a perfectly fine name?” Ping Yuan asked, sounding genuinely confused. “Why were you hiding it?”

Xia Chao’s face instantly turned scarlet.

“I know it is…” she said in a tiny, bashful voice, fidgeting. “But I got that nickname because of a typo I made when I was a kid.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, looking like she was facing execution. “Back in first grade, I was being naughty in class, and the teacher punished me by making me stay behind to write my name a hundred times.”

“I was so young then, and I kept leaving out strokes. My name has so many strokes.”

“I gripped that pencil and copied it over and over until I was dizzy. I kept going until school was over and all the other kids were gone. Xia Ling came to pick me up and called my name from the door. I looked up with a face covered in pencil lead and told her, crying, that my name was too hard to write and I didn’t want it anymore.”

“Then Xia Ling walked over and saw my messy rows. Every single ‘Chao’ (Tide) was missing the three-drop water radical,” she said despairingly, her expression one of utter heartbreak. “After that, my nickname became ‘Chaochao’ (Morning).”

“I’m done.” She looked at Ping Yuan silently, her eyes clearly saying: You can start laughing now.

But Ping Yuan didn’t laugh. In the darkness, her profile remained calm, as if she were deep in thought.

Xia Chao found this even more unsettling. She poked Ping Yuan’s shoulder timidly. “Hey, are you so shocked by my illiteracy that you’ve gone mute?”

The second her finger touched Ping Yuan’s shoulder, the older woman’s attempt to stifle her laughter finally shattered.

Her laughter was crisp, like silver bells, ringing out so loudly it nearly hit the ceiling. If the physical sensation of her touch wasn’t real, Xia Chao would have found it hard to believe that such a cold, frozen face could ever produce an expression of such pure joy.

If only she wasn’t laughing at my childhood shame, Xia Chao thought woodenly. She felt she needed to reconsider her earlier vow that “as long as Ping Yuan is happy, she’ll do anything.”

Actually, I do mind!

At eighteen, pride is everything. Xia Chao slumped weakly against the sofa, feeling like she was crumbling into pieces.

Who would hug her?

No one. The culprit was doubled over, eyes crinkled with mirth. It was the exact same expression as that night she’d teased her like a dog—only this time, the “mean” streak was even stronger.

What kind of person is this?

She bit her lip in bitter indignation until, five minutes later, Ping Yuan’s laughter finally subsided.

Xia Chao suspected the laughter had actually woken Ping Yuan up completely, because the words coming out of that beautiful mouth were getting even meaner. Ping Yuan nudged her with an elbow, settling the score: “Hey, since you just said you didn’t have a nickname, that counts as a lie. You owe me three 800-word practice essays. We’ll settle that later.”

What kind of person is this! Xia Chao fumed internally, thinking fiercely that she would bite Ping Yuan one day.

Big villain!

******

Ping Yuan, unaware of the girl’s inner schemes, only saw that the girl was truly annoyed. Her usually bright, spirited features were scrunched up in a pout as she glared defiantly.

It made Ping Yuan chuckle softly again.

Alright, she thought. I shouldn’t push it any further. Although she was still wide awake, her mood had improved significantly. They had been chatting for nearly forty minutes; if they kept this up, neither would get any sleep.

She had work tomorrow. She looked down at the second hand ticking in the dark and smiled silently.

The thought of going back to her room to be alone was, honestly, quite depressing.

But she said nothing. Xia Chao only saw Ping Yuan look up and give her a very gentle smile. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing you.”

“I’m sleepy too,” she added with a yawn. “We can’t chat anymore. You should go back to bed.”

She stood up and stretched. The moon had begun to sink; from the sofa, it was no longer visible through the window. Only a pale, thin light remained, casting Ping Yuan’s slender shadow across the cold tiles.

The happy, mischievous Ping Yuan vanished, replaced once more by the silent, elusive “flower shadow.” Xia Chao sat on the sofa, looking up at her as if gazing at a setting moon.

A bold thought entered her mind.

“Ping Yuan.”

She heard herself call out. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?”

Ping Yuan froze.

Was it the moon returning to the window at that moment? Why else did Ping Yuan’s profile look so clear, so vivid, as she turned back? Xia Chao stared at her without blinking. She saw Ping Yuan take a careful, restrained breath, her eyelashes trembling like snow on a pine branch.

“Why the sudden invitation?” she asked softly.

Because I want to be with you. Because I know you don’t sleep well.

That was what she wanted to say, but the words took a detour at her lips.

“Please stay with me…” she whispered, instinctively learning how to make her voice sound vulnerable. “After all that talking, I’m a bit too awake to sleep…”

Ping Yuan was visibly stunned.

She knew she should refuse. Even more than sharing Xia Chao’s insomnia, she was afraid of discovering that she could sleep well as long as Xia Chao was there. After all, she could “borrow” a good night’s dream from her tonight, but what about tomorrow? The night after? Every night after that?

Many things in the world are like drinking poison to quench a thirst; once the precedent is set, there is no going back.

But as she stood there, hesitating, Xia Chao looked like a tempting dream herself. The pajamas that smelled like her were a dream; the freshly washed, soft, black hair was a dream; this sleepy invitation was a dream too.

And this “cheese-like” dream was looking at her, whispering: “Will you stay with me…? After talking, I… I miss my mom a little.”

It was all too perfect, almost like a trap. And Ping Yuan thought: I’m jumping in.

“Alright,” she said.

“Where do you want to sleep? In my room again?”

Xia Chao’s eyes lit up instantly. She nodded vigorously. “Whatever you want.”

******

They walked toward the master bedroom.

The room felt both strange and familiar. At 3:00 AM, the lights outside were all extinguished. Ping Yuan silently twisted the knob on the nightlight.

Not long ago, on the night Zhu Cijing stayed over, she had sat here in this same dim light and secretly drawn a cat on Ping Yuan’s hand. And then denied it to the death.

But tonight felt different. When Cijing was here, they had a “legitimate” reason to squeeze together—to take care of a guest. But tonight, the guest bed was empty. What did it mean for them to sleep together now?

Xia Chao lay on the bed, once again carefully stretching her limbs. Ping Yuan seemed more silent than that first night. She lay quietly, maintaining a modest distance between them. It wasn’t the vast “Chu-Han border” distance of their first night, but it wasn’t the tangled intimacy they’d shared after falling asleep, either.

They lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling.

Oh no, are we both going to have insomnia now?

This wouldn’t do. Xia Chao searched her brain for some witty remark to lighten the mood, but her earlier “detour” seemed to have exhausted all her cleverness for the night. She could only look at Ping Yuan like a wooden block, her mouth opening and closing with nothing to say.

In the end, it was Ping Yuan who spoke first.

“Can I hold your hand?” she asked in a very soft voice.

“Of course,” Xia Chao nodded quickly, extending her hand. “Here.”

With the solemnity of receiving a VIP, she held out her hand. Their fingers entwined, breaking that modest little distance.

Xia Chao’s hands were beautiful—long-fingered and slender. Ping Yuan squeezed her wrist slightly, then carefully relaxed the pressure.

The warmth began to rise from the place where their skin met. Both seemed a bit stiff. Xia Chao bit her lip nervously, terrified her palms might get sweaty. Just as her heart started to thrum, she heard Ping Yuan ask: “Do you work this weekend?”

What an abrupt question. She thought for a second. “It’s my turn to have the weekend off.”

“Then accompany me to the wet market.”

“Eh?” Xia Chao was truly puzzled now. “Why the sudden interest in the market?”

Ping Yuan turned her head and replied breezily, “Don’t you always complain that I don’t know how to buy groceries?”

That was true.

Xia Chao remembered. Ever since Ping Yuan started learning to cook, they had taken turns buying food. Xia Chao always went to the market, but when it was Ping Yuan’s turn, she was usually too busy with work and just used a grocery app to have things delivered.

That was fine, but Ping Yuan’s choices were so repetitive. It was always lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, and green beans. Xia Chao was not only bored of eating it, but bored of chopping it. When she had protested, Ping Yuan had given a very innocent explanation.

“I don’t know what to buy,” she had said.

Xia Chao realized that Ping Yuan, having grown up entirely in the city, probably didn’t even recognize half the vegetables out there, let alone know what was in season or how to cook it. But the comment had passed. Everyone has their strengths; just as Xia Chao struggled with Math, it was normal for a busy professional like Ping Yuan not to know these things. Later, Xia Chao had just sent her a list to follow.

She hadn’t realized Ping Yuan had taken it to heart. Is this the ‘Perfectionist’ at work?

She nodded. “Sure.”

“Let’s go early on Saturday morning to catch the morning market.”

“Okay,” Ping Yuan nodded seriously. “That works. In the afternoon, we can do a timed Chemistry paper and… you can write that 800-word essay.”

She still hasn’t forgotten that! Xia Chao fumed again. “That was you cheating!”

The reply was calm: “If you hadn’t lied, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

“…” Xia Chao realized that Ping Yuan’s greatest skill was using her serious, beautiful “ice-cube” face to talk absolute nonsense. Her tone was so convincing you didn’t even know how to argue back.

An 800-word essay wasn’t a huge deal, but her competitive spirit was sparked. She decided to be stubborn too. “I’m not writing it.”

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your sister.”

“You said before I wasn’t worthy of calling you sister!”

“Then get out of my bed.”

“No!”

“Then I’ll get out of the bed,” Ping Yuan said calmly, actually lifting the quilt to leave. “I’ll sleep in the storage room.”

“No!” Xia Chao panicked and lunged forward, throwing her arms around Ping Yuan’s waist. “You promised to stay with me! No going back on your word!”

Both of them froze.

Ping Yuan’s waist was very slender; Xia Chao could almost wrap her arms around it twice. Xia Chao blinked blankly, feeling her chest pressed against Ping Yuan’s back. Under the force of her lunge, her pajama fabric brushed against the skin beneath. It was a soft, warm sensation, carrying an incredible scent. It reminded her of the night Ping Yuan cried in her arms—she had been just as soft then, as if she were born to be in that spot.

Her heart wavered. For a second, they were frozen in place, neither knowing what had happened. Three seconds later, Ping Yuan was the first to laugh. “So, am I your sister or not?”

She had smiled so much tonight; Xia Chao felt almost overwhelmed. She didn’t dare push her luck and nodded obediently. “Yes.”

“Then go write that 800-word essay like a good girl.”

“Fine.”

They finally lay back down under the covers. But this time, both felt more settled.

The “bedtime talk” had worked. Xia Chao thought about their conversation—the Saturday market, the chemistry paper, the essay—all the mundane, domestic details of life. These solid things washed away the instability of 3:00 AM, silently reminding them: You are sisters living together.

That’s good, Xia Chao thought. We’re sisters.

If they were sisters, then living together, sleeping in one bed, whispering, and teasing each other was perfectly normal. There was nothing to be nervous about. Any nervousness was just because they weren’t used to each other yet. It was like getting a new deskmate in middle school; if you accidentally bumped arms or dropped an eraser, you’d both be flustered.

We’ll get used to it, she thought, closing her eyes.

It was a very convincing reason, one that brought peace the moment it surfaced. Xia Chao lay there as drowsiness claimed her once more at 3:30 AM. This time, she didn’t resist and let herself fall into a deep sleep.

Consequently, she didn’t know that Ping Yuan, beside her, had also gently closed her eyes.

This time, it was Ping Yuan’s turn to whisper in her own heart: It’s okay.

Be a little selfish, the voice whispered. Don’t worry about whether you’ll be able to sleep tomorrow. As long as Xia Chao is here, as long as you can call her over like a puppy…

Then tonight, tomorrow night, the night after, and many nights more—you can sleep well.

What does it matter? After all… you’re sisters.

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