Heading for the Plains - Chapter 32

“Do you want chocolate or pearl milk tea?”

Xia Chao held up two cups for the little girl to choose from. She had a refreshing, gentle smile that, to a seven or eight-year-old, felt like the perfect mix of a trusted older sister and a best friend. Whenever her eyes crinkled into a smile, her “sales pitch” was invincible.

The little girl with pigtails was no exception. She blinked, instantly forgetting her earlier hesitation. Her eyes lit up as she pointed unhesitatingly to the pearl milk tea. “I want this one!”

“Coming right up.”

Xia Chao smiled, poked the straw through the seal, and handed it over. The girl took a sip, blinked, and then leaned in for another “loud” secret. “That sister with the grumpy face… why haven’t I seen her before?”

Still obsessed with the grumpy face, are we? Ping Yuan, who was listening intently nearby, felt her mouth twitch. Her gaze turned into cold arrows, flying straight into the back of Xia Chao’s head.

Xia Chao felt like she had been turned into a hedgehog by those glares, but she could only keep grinning and pretend to notice nothing. She thought for a moment and replied, “Because by the time you arrived, she had already grown up.”

“Growing up is like that,” she explained patiently. “Even though you’re in the same place, one person walks a little faster and the other a little slower. So, you might never actually run into each other.”

“Oh,” the girl nodded, looking half-convinced. “Then why is she here now but still not talking?”

“Maybe she’s shy,” Xia Chao smiled, not even realizing why she was smiling. “That grumpy sister grew up in this orphanage too. She’s actually sent you milk tea several times before.”

She looked at the girl and guided her gently, “What do we say to a shy sister?”

This was something the teachers had taught. The girl nodded without thinking: “Say thank you.”

“Exactly.” Xia Chao nodded back with equal seriousness. She patted the girl’s shoulder and whispered, “Go on.”

Her solemn expression reflected in the girl’s eyes; for some reason, it made the act of saying thank you feel like a momentous task. The little girl looked at Xia Chao, feeling as though she had been entrusted with a grand mission. She straightened her posture and marched over with steady, heavy steps, shouting loud and clear: “Thank you, Pretty Sister!”

Ping Yuan’s face turned bright red.

She nodded awkwardly in response, her hands and feet suddenly feeling like they didn’t belong to her body. Xia Chao suddenly felt that Ping Yuan wasn’t like a block of ice at all. Her sister was more like a milk-flavored popsicle; cold and hard on the outside with frost on her beautiful face, but when you got close and took a bite, you realized the coldness was just a shell for a sweet, liquid center.

What a contradictory person.

Xia Chao remained crouched at the girl’s height, watching the faint blush on Ping Yuan’s face, unable to stop herself from smiling.

She knew that Ping Yuan kept people at a distance to protect these children. Kids are sensitive, especially those in orphanages. Ping Yuan likely didn’t want her support to feel like a face-to-face handout, creating a burden of gratitude.

But maybe her presence wasn’t as “scary” as she thought? She was a sister who had grown up here, so beautiful and successful. The moment they stepped out of the car, Xia Chao had noticed several children peeking from the corners with curious eyes.

So, Xia Chao felt it was fine for them to know the tea came from Ping Yuan. Ping Yuan always did good things in silence, but in return, she deserved to be loved openly.

Right?

Xia Chao’s gaze softened as she stood up and walked over to stand beside her. She was a bit taller than Ping Yuan, so her presence naturally cast a small patch of shade over the older woman. Ping Yuan stood in that tiny shadow, her long lashes lowered, her expression still cool.

“Who told you I come here often?” she muttered.

Xia Chao simply watched her with a smile, her eyes full of sunlight. “I guessed.”

That again. Ping Yuan turned to look at her. Is there really someone in this world who can guess so accurately? Whether it was her insomnia, her trembling at the police station, or her current awkwardness, Xia Chao discovered it all, catching it and smoothing it out like a gentle hand flattening the weary wrinkles in a shirt.

It was as if she were born to be her antidote.

Ping Yuan narrowed her eyes as the sound of laughter grew nearby. With the girl with pigtails as a pioneer, the other children grew bold. They ran over to Xia Chao one by one, chirping like little birds, taking their tea on their tiptoes before flying away happily. As they passed Ping Yuan, they didn’t forget Xia Chao’s instruction, calling out “Thank you, Pretty Sister” in crisp, clear voices.

She was always so liked. Whether by these children or by Xiao Zhen earlier, Ping Yuan had arrived at the shop just in time to see the terrifying moment where Xia Chao naturally shielded the other girl, taking a blade for her, and then the way the two of them held hands for courage during the police questioning.

It was as if she were born knowing how to be good to everyone, like bright sunlight that shines on all things equally. Ping Yuan couldn’t describe her feelings in that moment, just as she couldn’t explain why she lowered her lashes now, letting her expression hide within the small patch of shade Xia Chao provided.

This certainly wasn’t jealousy. Don’t be ridiculous! Why would a sister be jealous of a younger sister making friends? She wasn’t some feudal patriarch, and strictly speaking, legally, she didn’t even have the right to be Xia Chao’s guardian.

She just suddenly started wondering what kind of “goodness” Xia Chao’s kindness toward her belonged to.

But Ping Yuan didn’t want to dig any deeper.

Good things in the world are often like that. Like a wonderful dream—the moment you try to analyze it, you’re close to waking up. She had fought for many things in her life, demanding clarity in every victory, but in this moment, even she didn’t know what she was trying to win. Her thoughts became a small paper boat, drifting aimlessly in the gentle ocean of Xia Chao’s eyes.

Going with the flow… turns out to be a happy phrase. She felt a bit lazy. Again, the summer was too hot. The heatwaves rising from the distant fields slightly distorted the view. Even in this little shade, she felt the heat rising from the soles of her feet, making her feel drowsy.

Xia Chao turned to look at her and let out a surprised “Oh.” “Why is your face so red?”

She quickly led Ping Yuan to a stone bench under an old locust tree. She picked up a cup of iced lemon water, but instead of handing it over immediately, she leaned down and carefully pressed the back of her hand—chilled by the cup—against Ping Yuan’s cheek.

“So hot,” she murmured with a hint of a scold. “If you can’t handle the sun, don’t just stand there.”

Xia Chao took off her own hair tie. Ping Yuan felt Xia Chao gather her loose hair and gently tie it into a ponytail. With the hair gone, a faint breeze brushed against her damp neck. Xia Chao leaned down, bringing herself to eye-level with Ping Yuan just as she had with the little girl. After observing her for a moment, she nodded in relief.

“Good,” she said, letting out a sigh. “Not quite heatstroke.”

What is it with this sister of mine? Xia Chao thought. She has a terrible temper, but her body is so delicate. One minute she’s fine, the next she’s ready to faint the moment the sun hits her. It made Xia Chao worry about her wherever she went—worried she’d get hurt, and worried that her sharp, brittle temper was like glassware: so proud and sensitive that she wouldn’t just cut others if she broke, but cut herself.

She had to be very, very careful, using soft chamois to keep this beautiful glass narcissus polished and bright.

Xia Chao looked at her helplessly, remembering the feel of Ping Yuan’s hair, as soft, light, and cool as water. Her fingers had accidentally brushed against the inch of pale skin on the back of her neck, feeling like she’d touched that white porcelain cup of bitter herbal tea.

Ping Yuan had been drowsy that day; today, she was hazy with heat. For some reason, Xia Chao suddenly felt afraid to touch her again.

She pulled her hand back and handed over the lemon water. The ice had begun to melt, sinking into the water and hiding its secrets behind the transparency. Xia Chao unwrapped a straw, poked it in for her, and prepared to stand up.

But the hem of her T-shirt was caught. Xia Chao looked down to see Ping Yuan looking up at her.

Her face wasn’t as red now. She held the iced water against her cheek, leaving a damp mist that made her eyes look as if they were shrouded in fog.

Xia Chao suddenly regretted poking the straw in so early; it made the cup awkward to hold against her face for cooling. But Ping Yuan clearly didn’t care about the straw. She looked at Xia Chao and simply asked, “Do you have any other plans today?”

Does ‘staying with you’ count as a plan? Xia Chao wanted to say, but felt it was too strange. She just shook her head and said honestly, “No.”

She asked good-naturedly, “Is there something I can do for you?”

Ping Yuan seemed to consider it. Xia Chao saw her both shake and nod her head. “Come for a ride with me.”

That’s it? Asking so solemnly, I thought it was something major. Xia Chao nodded without hesitation, then asked with concern, “Do you want to sit for a bit longer first?”

The answer was a shake of the head.

Alright, Xia Chao sighed internally. I’ve known about this stubborn streak of hers for a while now. Who dares to cross her? Better to just give in.

Thinking this, Xia Chao reached out her hand. “Shall I pull you up?”

This time, Ping Yuan didn’t refuse.

She placed her hand in Xia Chao’s. She felt a lightness as Xia Chao pulled her up with ease. The younger girl had even thoughtfully wiped her hands beforehand; her palm was clean and warm against Ping Yuan’s wrist, like summer sunlight, clear to the point of being generous.

Ping Yuan let herself be led in silence. She took a step forward and led Xia Chao toward the base of a wall. There sat a bicycle—an old-fashioned heavy-duty model used by the teachers to get to the nearby town. It was old, but well-maintained.

“Can you ride a bike?” she asked, tilting her head.

Xia Chao nodded. “Of course.” Who doesn’t know how to ride a bike these days?

“I can’t,” Ping Yuan said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Oh.”

Xia Chao looked down, glad she hadn’t said her previous thought out loud.

Ping Yuan didn’t care what she was thinking. She’d had heart surgery; she was perfectly entitled to her poor physical condition. She pointed at Xia Chao like a general commanding a soldier. “Is your technique good enough to carry a passenger?”

Her technique was excellent. Xia Chao nodded confidently. “I could ride through the market with no hands by the time I was seven.”

“That’s a traffic violation,” Ping Yuan said flatly.

“Maybe you should go back to being dazed. You were cuter that way.”

Her annoyed look made Ping Yuan feel better. She reached out and poked Xia Chao. “Push the bike out.”

“I want to feel the breeze. Take me for a ride.”

Xia Chao obeyed.

The bike wasn’t locked. Xia Chao pulled out a tissue and meticulously wiped the spot where Ping Yuan would sit. Considering Ping Yuan was wearing a light-colored skirt that could easily get grease or dust on it, she crouched down and carefully wiped the chain guard and spokes of the rear wheel as well.

The afternoon sun hit her profile, making her loose hair glow. The bridge of her nose was slightly red in the heat, making her look loyal and obedient.

Ping Yuan watched her in silence, letting Xia Chao wipe away the dust, then watched her run over to the security post and using her trademark smile—talk the guard into lending them two straw hats.

Xia Chao plopped a hat onto Ping Yuan’s head, carefully tying the chin strap before flashing a smile. “Let’s go.”

The sun outside the gate was still bright. Ping Yuan, her face hidden in the shadow of the straw hat, squinted at the world. The best thing about summer is that the daylight is so long it feels endless; no matter when you look out, it feels like 3:30 PM, with plenty of time left to waste.

So, it shouldn’t matter if it’s my turn to enjoy myself a little, right?

The summer glow is so brilliant, surely no one can see this tiny bit of darkness in me.

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