Heading for the Plains - Chapter 25

Xia Chao had another dream.

This dream, however, was stranger than any she had ever had. There were no exams, no hospital wards, no backstories or foreshadowing; only her, sitting on a bed in an unfamiliar room, kissing a strange woman.

In the dream, it was roughly three in the afternoon. The slanting sunlight fell to the floor like golden dust. The woman sat beside her, eyes lowered in thought, appearing as though she wanted to say something.

Xia Chao waited patiently for her to speak. The woman’s scent drifted over in delicate threads, like a light mist over green mountains. Before anyone spoke, everything was peaceful; Xia Chao simply assumed this stranger wanted to tell her something.

But she said nothing. The woman brushed a stray lock of hair aside, her eyelashes fluttered, and then she leaned in, cupped Xia Chao’s face, and suddenly kissed her on the lips.

It was a clumsy kiss. If one could even call it a kiss. At first, it was merely one person’s lips pressed against the other’s. Xia Chao didn’t know how to kiss. She felt she should pull away, yet for some reason, she remained frozen, slowly closing her eyes. She felt that “dragonfly-touching-water” kiss land on her lips like a butterfly.

She discovered she liked it. Or rather, she liked being focused on so intently by this stranger who had broken into her dream; she liked the long lashes that accompanied that focus. Slender fingers rested on her shoulders, and the lips descended again and again, making her nose, lips, and cheeks feel light, crisp, and tingly.

She must have looked ridiculous in the dream. She felt herself staring expectantly, like a dog waiting for a bone, stupidly tilting her head back and supporting the woman’s waist, allowing her to lean down repeatedly to brush against her nose and lips in a rewarding intimacy.

Her “owner” seemed amused. She backed away slightly, her lips teasingly close yet out of reach, making Xia Chao instinctively lean in to close the gap; only for her lips to be blocked by a raised index finger.

“You don’t even know how to kiss?”

The slender finger wagged. Behind the finger, a pair of crimson, moist lips parted to utter two words:

“Dummy.”

How can I be getting scolded even while kissing? Xia Chao felt aggrieved but had no time to reply. The woman tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned in again.

This time, it was a real kiss. It melted on her tongue like cream, leaving her utterly intoxicated.

They were so close it felt as if they had been here since the dawn of time. The woman’s tongue flicked lightly against her lips like a reserved kitten, taking one step forward only to retreat quickly.

Xia Chao chased her instinctively, like a parched traveler lured by a spring. Her fingers caught the loose hair by the woman’s ear, while her lips sought to conquer, moving deeper. She nipped at her gently, holding those soft, fragile lips;not drawing blood or being rough, but engaging in a tender, intimate torment that made the other woman gasp in a restrained, breathless way, trembling like a pine branch heavy with snow.

Xia Chao loved the sensation. She wanted to hold her and never let go. She buried her nose in the woman’s neck, feeling her own collar being gripped in return, as a familiar scent wafted into her nose—clean, light, and ethereal.

Like a ray of light falling on green moss.

In that light, Xia Chao raised her eyes and saw the stranger’s eyes.

It was Ping Yuan.

Xia Chao snapped her eyes open.

*****

A vast expanse of white met her gaze. Xia Chao panted heavily, her body drenched in cold sweat, her heart still hammering in her chest.

Her vision was blurred. She lay there for a long time before realizing the “snow” was just the white ceiling illuminated by the early morning light. Something was vibrating relentlessly under her pillow. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned painfully, realizing where the trembling and damp heat of the dream had come from.

The trembling was her phone alarm on vibrate. The damp heat was the sweat soaking her body.

Who knew that when Ping Yuan slept alone, she kept the AC so high? The cooling effect was practically zero. Worse, since both of them had been groggy the night before, neither had thought to turn the temperature down.

The heat had intensified once Ping Yuan crowded over to her side of the bed. Xia Chao took a deep breath, feeling a weight across her waist. She let out a small groan and looked up.

It was Ping Yuan’s leg.

Ping Yuan hadn’t crawled into her arms to sleep last night, but her posture was still quite unceremonious; one leg was draped directly over Xia Chao’s waist as if she were a giant body pillow.

The weight and the scent in the dream had clearly originated here. Xia Chao groaned again, covering her eyes with her palm.

Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to wake up from a “weird” dream only to find your sister lying right next to you? It scared the soul right out of her.

Fortunately, Ping Yuan was still asleep, sparing them the embarrassment of a face-to-face encounter. Xia Chao exhaled and slowly turned over, feeling her heartbeat gradually settle.

She didn’t actually believe the person in her dream was Ping Yuan. Setting aside how offensive it was to cast someone into a sensual dream without their consent, just the thought of doing such things with her sister was horrifying.

Scary!

She shuddered at the thought, swept it into a mental trash can, and locked the lid tight.

Don’t be nervous, Xia Chao comforted herself, touching her lips. That familiar gardenia scent at the end was likely just because she happened to be sleeping next to Ping Yuan.

She was eighteen. Some of her middle school classmates were already getting married. It was just a dream and a kiss; it was no big deal. Even if her first “kissing dream” happened to be with a woman.

But thinking about it, that shouldn’t be surprising either. Xia Chao forced herself to stay calm, searching her memories to see if she’d ever had a crush. The answer was no. She had always been a late bloomer in that department. While the girl at the desk in front of her was sweet-talked with milk tea and love letters, Xia Chao was busy beating the snot out of any boy who looked at her funny.

Her romantic life was a blank slate. The thought of being intimate with a man… heaven help her, just imagining it made her skin crawl. She was actually relieved the dream was about a woman—an imaginary woman with blurred features, allowing her to savor the intoxicated feeling of the dream without guilt.

How fascinating.

This was her first “romantic” dream. If it hadn’t been for Ping Yuan’s unceremonious leg, she might have seen the woman’s face and figured out what her “ideal type” looked like. She cast a resentful glance at Ping Yuan, entirely unaware that she had just smoothly passed the milestone of a sexual orientation awakening.

Ping Yuan remained fast asleep, her cheek nestled softly against the quilt, looking perfectly content and entirely unaware that she had just derailed a young girl’s beautiful dream.

Ping Yuan’s wake-up time for work was half an hour later than Xia Chao’s. Thus, only Xia Chao was awake in her misery, pulling her phone from under the pillow and feeling as though she’d been drained of her life essence by a fox spirit.

Staying up late… really is painful!

Xia Chao squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could hit “rewind” and go back to sleep. She had always been the type to sleep through anything the moment her eyes closed. Last night was the first time in her life she had stayed up until 3:00 AM chatting. She suspected the messy dream was a direct result of her disrupted schedule.

Ping Yuan, on the other hand, had slept beautifully. Xia Chao looked gloomily at her sleeping profile, wanting to go back to sleep, but her movements seemed to have disturbed Ping Yuan. The older woman’s brow furrowed slightly, and her steady breathing faltered.

Xia Chao froze, not daring to move.

She admitted, however uselessly, that despite her grumbling, she didn’t actually want to wake Ping Yuan. She had learned once again last night just how poor Ping Yuan’s sleep could be. Xia Chao turned carefully on her side to face Ping Yuan and let out a tiny sigh.

They were so close that she could see the fine peach fuzz on Ping Yuan’s face and her long lashes resting innocently, covering the faint shadows under her eyes. This slight imperfection only made her look more fragile, like delicate white porcelain that would shatter at a touch.

You work so hard, Xia Chao thought gently. If I hadn’t spoken up last night, how long would you have sat alone on the sofa?

Ping Yuan didn’t answer, her brow still slightly knit in sleep. I should get up, Xia Chao thought.

Instead of moving, she carefully reached out and placed her fingertip on the slight furrow between Ping Yuan’s eyebrows. Her face was cool; Ping Yuan’s body temperature always seemed a bit lower than hers, reminding her of the herbal tea Xia Ling used to brew—served in a small white porcelain cup to cool, with a hint of bitterness followed by a sweet aftertaste.

The soft texture of the eyebrows brushed against her fingertip. Ping Yuan’s brows were like her owner: long and detached when relaxed, but possessed of an unconscious stubbornness when knit.

The seven o’clock morning light filtered through the curtains. Xia Chao closed her eyes and very slowly, very gently, smoothed out the knot in Ping Yuan’s brow. Then, her fingertip moved back to the tense temples, rubbing them softly.

Exhausted people are prone to headaches. As the temples relaxed, Ping Yuan’s features softened. Still asleep, she let out a satisfied little hum and unconsciously shifted toward Xia Chao, tilting her face up slightly.

Xia Chao froze. Is she… asking for more?

She grew bolder, her warm fingertips applying gentle pressure across the brow bone and temples. Ping Yuan nuzzled the quilt, a look of faint contentment on her face.

Xia Chao thought she looked like a cat again; the kind of cat that plops onto your lap and demands to be petted, purring when it’s happy but ready to give you a scratch if you do it wrong. Fierce, cold, delicate, and utterly bossy.

Xia Chao’s gaze rested tenderly on Ping Yuan’s face. For a second, she wanted to flick her forehead, and for another, she wanted to stroke her cheek.

But in the end, she did nothing. The time on her phone ticked to 7:10. If she dallied any longer, she’d be late for work. Xia Chao lowered her eyes, seeing that Ping Yuan’s expression was peaceful again. She finally withdrew her hand and climbed silently out of bed.

She washed up as she always did, the cold water splashing away the heat and stickiness of the dream. There was no time for a real breakfast. This time, it was her turn to copy Ping Yuan. She mixed a quick bowl of milk and oatmeal, gulped it down, and hurried out the door.

*****

At work, the team was already busy. Xiao Zhen, prepping the mochi and taro balls, looked at Xia Chao in surprise. “What’s with you? Yawning like crazy. Were you out robbing people last night?”

Xia Chao was indeed exhausted. She gave a listless yawn. She wanted to say she’d been dragged into a late-night heart-to-heart by Ping Yuan, but the words took a detour at her lips. “A cat moved into my house,” she dodged.

“Your sister’s?” Xiao Zhen shook her head, scanning Xia Chao. “Tsk tsk. Another soul lost to the cat-slave life.”

“Get lost.”

Xia Chao was comfortable enough with Xiao Zhen now that she picked up a shaker and feigned an attack. Xiao Zhen giggled, using a water basin as a shield as she nimble ducked away.

Everything was back to normal. They boiled the mochi, sliced the tea jelly, and poured the brewed tea into thermal canisters. Xia Chao checked the inventory, and for a split second, she thought of the dream. She dazed for a moment before tucking her pencil behind her ear.

The 8:00 AM sun was already bright, illuminating the dark green bus stop sign and casting dappled light through the trees onto the faces of the busy girls in the shop. Morning light, tree shadows, clean roads, the gradually bustling old city streets, and the laughter on young girls’ faces. Everything looked brand new, vivid, and full of hope.

Ping Yuan, driving past the intersection, caught sight of this very scene in the small roadside shop.

She had to go to a neighboring city today. The AC units outside hummed loudly. A newly arrived bus, looking like a giant unsliced loaf of toasted bread, rumbled to a stop. A few sparrows took flight. The scent of hot tea drifted through the air. The sunlight was a beautiful, slightly stinging brilliance. Ping Yuan held the steering wheel and watched the girls for a moment.

The light turned green. She snapped out of it, shifted gears, and was about to accelerate when her phone buzzed with a message.

“Let’s go to the morning market this weekend. I’ve adjusted my shifts.”

It was a message from Xia Chao. Ping Yuan wondered how she’d found the time to slack off and type it while at work.

A mental image of Xia Chao hiding from her coworkers to sneakily send a message appeared in Ping Yuan’s mind. A smile touched her lips as she stepped on the gas, accelerating toward her day’s journey.

Everything was as it should be.

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