Heading for the Plains - Chapter 35

It wasn’t until much later that Xia Chao finally figured out why the amusement park was even open that night.

But there it was. Perhaps due to the peak summer season, the park was still teeming with visitors. The golden lights of the carousel flickered against the deep blue night sky, as beautiful as a dream.

That is, if you ignored the fact that she and Ping Yuan were currently sitting in a bumper car, looking completely out of place.

The idea that the bumper cars would be empty was, in hindsight, incredibly naive. Because of her health, Ping Yuan couldn’t go on roller coasters, so they had skipped the carousel and the Ferris wheel, thinking they were being clever by avoiding the popular “date spots” and photo ops.

They hadn’t realized that the bumper car arena was crawling with even more couples.

It felt like they had accidentally stumbled into a “Night Owls’ Date Night” session. The arena was packed with pairs. Either snuggling sweetly in their cars or busy posing for selfies. With zero competitive spirit on display, the bumper cars were being operated like gentle tea cups. Xia Chao gripped her steering wheel helplessly, watching a girl scream and dive into her boyfriend’s arms after the gentlest of taps, and felt that life had lost all meaning.

To make matters worse, one couple was in the middle of a fight. Fragments of their argument drifted over; a girl was holding up her phone, clearly furious with the photos her boyfriend had taken. The boyfriend, apparently lacking a survival instinct, leaned in and said with total innocence: “But you actually look like that in real life!”

He’s literally tap-dancing on a landmine, Xia Chao thought, her scalp tingling. Afraid of getting caught in the crossfire, she carefully steered her car far away from the bickering pair.

The whole round was a bore. You couldn’t hit this person, you couldn’t bump that person. Why even call them bumper cars? Feeling defeated, Xia Chao stole a glance at Ping Yuan beside her. The older woman sat there with a wooden expression, looking quite ridiculous and somehow adorable, perched inside a car styled after a cartoon animal.

Xia Chao started to giggle. Her sister was truly a strange one. She looked cold and unapproachable, yet in some odd situations, she was surprisingly good-tempered.

Her thoughts were cut short. Ping Yuan gripped the wheel and swept a calm glance over her. “Stop laughing.”

“Hold on tight,” she added breezily.

The next second, Ping Yuan leaned on the horn. She maneuvered the car backward, then slammed on the gas, heading straight for the couple in the center who were blocking traffic with their photo-argument.

BAM!

The two cars collided. The couple let out a series of yelps, their composure shattered. The boyfriend, realizing his masculinity had been challenged, grabbed his wheel and accelerated, charging back at them.

This time, Xia Chao took the wheel and dodged with a sharp swerve. The other car grazed past them and slammed into the outer railing with a thud, bouncing off and hitting several other cars in a chain reaction of screams.

The laws of physics dictate that the force is mutual; when you hit someone, you get pushed back, too. But the human competitive spirit is a strange thing. It’s always more satisfying to be the one doing the hitting.

The atmosphere in the arena suddenly reached a fever pitch. Two other girls in a different car saw the opening and charged. Ping Yuan’s driving was impeccable, but Xia Chao’s reflexes were nothing to sneeze at either. She tapped the horn, swerved the rear of the car to avoid the hit, and used the momentum to slam another car into the distance.

Screams and laughter erupted like falling dominoes. No one cared about selfies anymore; the bumper cars became like a tray of marbles rolling every which way. You either sent someone flying or got knocked sideways yourself.

The shift was sudden and seamless. When everyone is focused on photos, slow driving is the norm. But once an “outlier” breaks the rules, everyone joins the fray.

Eventually, they got hit hard. It was the pair of girls from before, wearing cute school uniforms but driving like professional stunt racers. Xia Chao and Ping Yuan’s car was sent spinning. The wind whistled past their ears, the flashing lights above became a blur, and their seatbelts tugged tight. Xia Chao gripped the wheel and yelled to Ping Yuan, asking what to do.

Ping Yuan just laughed.

“I don’t know!” she shouted back, laughing through the music and the dizziness. “Let fate decide!”

Clang! They hit the railing. Both shut their eyes as the massive counter-force sent them bouncing back like a bowling ball, crashing back into the center amidst a chorus of collisions and laughter.

******

It had been a long time since they had laughed so freely. By the time the music stopped and the staff waved the flags to end the round, they both climbed out of the car, still buzzing with energy.

Xia Chao pulled out the park map. This time, it was her turn to suggest: “Let’s go skating.”

The roller rink was in the next block, a new addition to the park. The nearby food street was brilliantly lit, the heavy scent of grilled sausages and squid wafting over, making them realize they were hungry. Since they’d eaten a very simple dinner at the orphanage, Xia Chao ran over to a roadside cart and bought two cheese corn dogs.

The melted cheese filling and meat juices exploded with the first bite. Ping Yuan held her paper tray and ate with a slow, refined grace, yet she was still caught off guard by the heat. She let out a hissed “Hoo-shoo,” fumbling as the corn dog nearly slipped out of the tray.

“Cat’s tongue,” Xia Chao teased, watching her. She realized she was smiling at Ping Yuan more and more lately. Ping Yuan glared at her. “What are you laughing at?”

“At you,” Xia Chao’s eyes crinkled like crescents. “Don’t choke yourself to death.”

“I’m not you.”

How did this turn back on me? Xia Chao wondered, but Ping Yuan cut her off. “Let’s go.”

*****

The rink was nearly empty. Most visitors were either in line for other rides or eating at the food street, waiting for the 8:00 PM fireworks. They practically had the whole rink to themselves.

The park provided rental skates. These days, even roller skates had evolved—they were lightweight double-row wheels that could be buckled over your own shoes with adjustable straps, avoiding the hygiene issues of shared boots.

Xia Chao knew how to skate thanks to a roller-blading craze in her hometown during elementary school. Some coach had set up a stand in the square with colorful plastic cones, leading a string of kids around like a game of duck-duck-goose every evening. Back in third grade, she had been desperately envious, but she knew a pair of skates cost hundreds of yuan; more than her family could afford. She had taken a detour, running errands and bringing yogurt to a classmate for a whole week until the girl agreed to let her borrow her skates for two days.

Her mother didn’t allow her to take expensive things from classmates. Xia Chao had snuck the shoes home, terrified of being caught, but that night the classmate’s mother realized the skates were gone and called the teacher.

The ensuing drama was loud enough to bring the police; the classmate was dragged to her door by her mother to retrieve the skates, both of them crying in embarrassment. Xia Chao hid behind her door, watching Xia Ling return the shoes and apologize, certain she was in for a “bamboo-cane-and-meat” thrashing.

Instead, after the visitors left, Xia Ling simply sat on the sofa and beckoned her over. “How much do those shoes cost?”

Xia Chao remembered looking down, knowing the answer but whispering an uncertain, “Maybe… a few hundred?”

“That’s quite expensive,” Xia Ling had said gently. “Our family isn’t well off. Don’t borrow such valuable things from classmates again—it causes misunderstandings. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Mom.”

“Good.” Xia Ling waved her away, her face weary but still offering a small smile. “Go do your homework.”

The storm had passed. Xia Chao thought that was the end of it, but a month later, on her birthday, a brand-new pair of skates appeared on the table. It was her birthday gift from Xia Ling.

Xia Chao knew, she had always known that without Xia Ling, she wouldn’t have become the person she was today. Perhaps she would have grown up in an orphanage, possessed of a stubborn, fighter’s spirit, pinning bullies to the sand. But she wouldn’t have had this tenderness, this kindness toward everyone. Every way she knew how to love, Xia Ling had taught her.

Sometimes, she felt a wave of inexplicable guilt, as if she were the “cuckoo” who had stolen the nest, and that everything she had would eventually have to be returned, like the glass slipper in the story of the fake princess.

But now, the “real princess” was right in front of her. Xia Chao lowered her eyes and found herself more than willing to put the slippers on for her.

She knelt down to adjust her own gear, then looked at Ping Yuan.

Ping Yuan was struggling with the buckles on her skates. She was wearing a long skirt, and every time she bent over, the hem dragged on the floor. Xia Chao simply walked over, knelt on one knee, gathered the skirt into the crook of her arm, and—click—fastened the final buckle for her.

Because of the skirt, Ping Yuan’s knee pads had to be worn directly against her skin. Xia Chao thought for a moment, then pulled out a tissue and placed it gently over Ping Yuan’s knee before strapping the guard on.

She remembered Ping Yuan’s fastidiousness. And even if she weren’t a germaphobe, Xia Chao knew the inner sponge of those guards had a rough mesh that would chafe and hurt the skin after a while. She didn’t want Ping Yuan’s knees to get rubbed red.

Ping Yuan gripped her skirt lightly, watching Xia Chao kneel before her, feeling the girl’s warm breath against her bare calves. Xia Chao wasn’t wearing a hair tie. She had given it to the girl at the orphanage, so stray hairs fell around her face, brushing against Ping Yuan’s skin with every breath.

It was… itchy.

Ping Yuan felt suddenly out of place, a warmth rising in her back. She shifted her leg awkwardly, about to ask if she was done, when Xia Chao let go and stood up. “Ready.”

Xia Chao turned and reached out her hand. “Let’s skate.”

Ping Yuan went silent. The fact she had been trying to ignore finally stood squarely in her path. She looked up, using a blank expression to hide her lack of confidence.

“I don’t know how to skate,” she said.

Xia Chao was officially at a loss.

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