Heading for the Plains - Chapter 36

Xia Chao looked at her sister, utterly speechless.

No wonder Ping Yuan was so slow putting on those skates. She didn’t know how to use them!

And if she didn’t know how, why did she come to the rink without saying a single word? Her sister wasn’t usually this “obedient”!

Xia Chao’s eyes broadcasted her shock in silence. Ping Yuan was clearly a bit uncomfortable under the gaze; her beautiful eyes darted away for a split second before she forced a look of stubborn confidence. “I can learn on the spot.”

“You suggested skating, so you clearly know how,” she said, her lack of logic matched only by her boldness. “I’ll just learn from you. It’ll be fine.”

…Fine. That was the familiar flavor Xia Chao knew so well. She laughed helplessly, not even realizing there was a trace of indulgence in her voice. “Fine. I’ll teach you.”

She realized quickly, however, that she had still overestimated Ping Yuan’s sense of balance.

Roller skating should have been easier to master than ice skating. After all, a normal floor offers more control than a sheet of ice. Xia Chao gave her a serious demonstration: feet in a “V” shape, push off from the side, and to brake, lift the toe and use the heel stopper.

Simple, right? She demonstrated as she spoke, moving back and forth with effortless grace. Ping Yuan nodded solemnly, indicating she understood. Xia Chao decided to let go of her hands to let her try a single step forward.

The next second, she saw Ping Yuan with face set in a look of grim determination, take one steady step, wobble, and promptly vanish from Xia Chao’s field of vision as she plummeted.

“Watch out!”

Xia Chao lunged forward, catching her just before she hit the ground. Her hand supported Ping Yuan’s waist for a fleeting second before pulling back the moment she was steady.

Ping Yuan steadied herself by grabbing Xia Chao’s shoulders. She saw Xia Chao looking at her with an amused, helpless expression. “I’ve realized you really are a natural at driving cars.”

“Why?”

“Because four wheels are the most stable,” Xia Chao said with a straight face.

Ping Yuan knew she was being teased for her poor balance and raised a leg to feign a kick. Xia Chao dodged nimbly on her skates, laughing as she dove back in to catch Ping Yuan as she lost her balance again.

Xia Chao was tall and long-legged; her movements on skates were lazy and stylish. Ping Yuan stared at her, the image of Xia Chao kneeling tenderly to put a tissue under her knee pads flashing through her mind. She felt a lingering warmth at her waist where Xia Chao’s hand had just been.

Xia Chao’s hands were strong, clean, and elegant; the hands of a young girl. She held Ping Yuan’s waist firmly, then withdrew with perfect decorum the moment Ping Yuan found her footing.

“Don’t be afraid,” Xia Chao whispered. “As long as the wheels are turning, you won’t fall.”

For some reason, Ping Yuan felt that the girl before her was different from the stiff, stubborn child who had first arrived at her house.

Different how?

She couldn’t say, but her heart was beating a little too fast. That feeling made her instinctively want to retreat. She took a tentative step forward and said to Xia Chao, “Go ahead and skate.”

“But you haven’t learned yet.”

“I’m not learning,” Ping Yuan said, giving an order like a willful little girl. “You’re going to pull me along.”

The response she got was one of resigned indulgence: “As you wish, Sister.”

****

Thousands of miles away, the clouds had scattered, revealing a deep velvet sky filled with a myriad of shimmering stars. The lights of the amusement park mirrored the heavens, like a starscape turned upside down.

Ping Yuan felt as if she were spinning again. Her hand was in Xia Chao’s. The small rink felt like a ballroom floor. Xia Chao led the way, her long hair streaming behind her like a banner in the night.

Ping Yuan’s mood suddenly turned brilliant.

To be honest, Ping Yuan herself didn’t know why she had suggested the amusement park tonight. She usually hated them. Every year when the company gave out park passes as a benefit, she would wish they’d just give her the cash instead and list the passes on a secondhand app.

Her reason for hating them was simple: they weren’t fun. She couldn’t do the thrilling coasters, and as for the cute, “childish” rides—well, the little girl she used to be had fantasized about them while looking at cheap advertisements, but she was an adult now, long past the age for such play.

The amusement park was usually a mirror that silently reminded her of her regrets and deficiencies.

But today, she had come. Not only had she come, but she had let herself be led to a skating rink when she couldn’t even skate.

I must be going crazy, Ping Yuan thought.

Perhaps the lights of the park were too enchanting. They had said too much today, done too much—from the brawl at the station to the stories of shorn hair and the milk tea at the orphanage. It was all so heavy. No matter how much time passed, those things remained unpleasant.

So, when Xia Chao had pointed at the map and suggested skating with a smile, Ping Yuan had jumped into the trap without a second thought.

Ping Yuan knew that she had often craved a “derailment” in her life. Countless times, sitting alone by a window in the narrow confines of the orphanage or during her monotonous school days, she had imagined a set of tracks appearing within her. She imagined a whistle blowing and a train appearing to whisk her away from everything, to the ends of the earth—even if the train eventually derailed and the world ended.

But the fantasy always failed. The train never came, the world didn’t end, and she grew up lonely. Until now.

But Xia Chao had come, and her warm eyes seemed capable of holding everything. Ping Yuan thought again of the girl kneeling to buckle her skates. Looking down, she could see the faint beads of sweat on the bridge of Xia Chao’s nose, the long lashes, and the clean, striking lines of her arms.

She looked so careful, so focused—like a young, loyal knight. And Ping Yuan only had to sit there and dignifiedly enjoy the service.

What is the price for this?

Ping Yuan didn’t know. And right now, she didn’t want to. Xia Chao was by her side, looking out for her, her gaze so gentle it seemed to say, “You don’t need to do anything.”

The flip side of that sentence was: You can do anything you want.

This allowed Ping Yuan to comfortably go with the flow. Being an adult was exhausting; she wanted to be stubborn, to be wild, even to be a little irresponsible. She just needed a bit of “Sister’s privilege.”

Feeling the cool night wind on her face, she began to laugh. She shouted to Xia Chao, “Faster!”

“Aren’t you afraid of falling?”

“I’m not!” she shouted back, using Xia Chao’s own words. “You said it yourself—as long as the wheels are turning, I won’t fall!”

She really is good at making my nonsense sound like a law of nature, Xia Chao thought. She glanced back. “Fine. I’m speeding up.”

She suddenly accelerated. The stop-and-start pace she’d maintained to accommodate Ping Yuan vanished as she entered a true speed-skate. The wind stopped being a gentle caress and became something wild.

Ping Yuan’s balance actually wasn’t as bad as they’d joked. She was smart; she knew how to observe. She lowered her center of gravity on the turns, matching Xia Chao’s frequency and stride.

As a good teacher and a thoughtful sister, Xia Chao knew she should be providing reassurance. But in this moment, she didn’t want to be reassuring.

Even the gentlest sun can become a burning focus when refracted through glass. Xia Chao looked at her, and all she could see were the delicate, pale blue veins on Ping Yuan’s wrist from earlier that day.

She felt a sudden urge to press her thumb against that pulse point, to catch her. She wanted to go faster, to see the wind lift Ping Yuan’s skirt, to mess up her hair, to mess her up.

She was setting a fire in her heart. Xia Chao didn’t even realize the thought was there.

She accelerated again. Because she knew a touch like that would be impolite, the only option was to go faster—to let the slight weightlessness and dizziness of the speed take over. She wanted Ping Yuan to panic, just so she would lean closer.

But her plan failed.

Ping Yuan, who had been cautiously gripping her hand, suddenly accelerated and slid ahead of her.

“I’ve got it!”

The wind rushed past Xia Chao’s ear, carrying Ping Yuan’s voice. It was still calm, but the tail end of the sentence was like a hook, carrying a trace of arrogant triumph.

It turned out she had been observing in silence. She had been holding Xia Chao’s hand just to build up her own momentum, waiting for the perfect moment to break away. Ping Yuan was still Ping Yuan: decisive and bold, like a sharp arrow with snowy feathers that always hits its mark. She never allowed herself to remain at a disadvantage.

But this version of Ping Yuan made Xia Chao’s heart race even more. She was happy to let her be this wild and free.

Watching Ping Yuan’s back, Xia Chao smiled and sped up to chase her.

The cautious following was over. Now, the real dance began.

The rink was empty, perfect for a game of tag. Xia Chao had always been athletic, and she had worn those birthday skates for two whole years until her feet literally couldn’t fit anymore. Catching up wasn’t hard. As she pulled ahead, she intentionally balanced on a single wheel, spinning in an elegant, showy circle.

Her balance and explosive power were incredible. She shifted her weight with cross-steps, her muscles tensing and pushing off. The contrast between her slender, lithe legs and the heavy skates was striking. She looked like a nimble young leopard in the night.

Xia Chao laughed and reached out her hand, offering it to Ping Yuan as if inviting her to dance.

“Sister.”

Ping Yuan looked at her, said nothing, but lazily raised an eyebrow and—smack—swatted her hand away.

She knew she was being provoked. The next second, Ping Yuan accelerated as well.

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