Chapter 34: The Roller Coaster Slope

I pushed the Old Master out of the main hospital entrance. We ambled slowly along the hospital wall, taking our time, strolling beside the building.

To the right of the hospital exit, a wide concrete slope descended. To the left, a somewhat narrow road was fenced off by green railings.

The view from the slope was expansive; looking down, one could survey a large portion of the city.

As I pushed the Old Master to the edge of the slope, preparing to continue our descent, he suddenly called out:

“Hey, wait a minute!”

I paused, startled, my steps halting. The Old Master pointed towards the slope.

“Xiao Lu, I’ve got an idea. Push me down!”

I was truly dumbfounded. “What? Why?”

The Old Master declared, “To ride a roller coaster!”

My mind struggled to process his words. The Old Master continued:

“I’ve always wanted to ride a roller coaster. I took Xiao Feng once, a long time ago, and just watching the train twist and turn from below made me dizzy.”

“But I imagine it would be quite fun. I never rode it back then, and now it’s too late. My old bones can’t handle that kind of jostling anymore; a real roller coaster would surely shake them apart.”

“This slope is just the right gradient—not too steep, not too gentle. If I slide down this, it’ll be just like riding a roller coaster once. Come on!”

Like hell I would!

I shook my head vigorously, like a rattle-drum, and pleaded:

“Old Master, please don’t torment me like this. If you accidentally fell out of the chair, Old Han would chop off my head with a knife!”

The Old Master waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. That kid hasn’t even visited me once. If she had the free time to chop off your head, wouldn’t she use it to see me instead?”

“Besides, even if something did happen, it wouldn’t be blamed on you. Don’t worry!”

I shook my head repeatedly. “Old Master, please, spare me…”

The Old Master turned his head to look at me, pursing his lips with disdain.

“You talked such a good game earlier, saying how people gather and part, and that I should come to you for anything I wanted to eat or do. Now, when it’s just pushing a chair, you’re hemming and hawing…”

I wiped the sweat from my face and peered at the slope.

It wasn’t particularly steep, perhaps fifty degrees at most, and was enclosed by railings. The path itself was deserted, with no cars typically passing through.

Although there was a middle school nearby, usually frequented by students, it was a holiday, so the road was empty.

If the Old Master slid down, I could probably keep up with a few quick steps. Perhaps it would be fine…

But whether something might actually go wrong, I truly couldn’t say!

My face was likely etched with worry.

The Old Master chuckled again, then turned away. “Oh, come on. You’re as timid as a rabbit! I told you nothing would fall on you even if something happened, so what are you scared of?”

“Ah, people just love to go back on their word…”

A battle raged within me.

After a long moment, I sighed deeply, glancing at the long concrete slope, and rubbed my forehead.

“…Alright, Old Master, but I’m telling you, this is just this one time!”

The Old Master cackled with delight, waving a large hand.

“You’re still the most useful one, kiddo! Come on!”

Reluctantly, I slowly pushed the Old Master to the edge of the slope. I swallowed, staring at the incline for a long time.

After the Old Master urged me several times, I frowned in thought and said:

“It’s fine, it’s fine, but you can’t have your fun sliding down and then decide you want to ride a pirate ship, can you?”

The Old Master paused, his interest piqued. He asked, “What’s a pirate ship? Is it thrilling? Which is more fun, that or a roller coaster?”

Clutching the wheelchair’s handles, I shook my head repeatedly. “Nothing, nothing at all. Just rambling…”

I was usually quite brave. In amusement parks, after riding roller coasters, pirate ships, or drop towers, I’d always emerge unfazed.

Yet now, looking at this slope—a slope where even a child humming a tune on a skateboard would be perfectly safe—I felt a shiver of dread.

I slowly moved the Old Master’s wheelchair to the edge of the slope, my gaze fixed intently below. Swallowing hard, I said with resignation, “Then I’m letting go now, alright?”

The Old Master chuckled. “Hurry up, you’re dragging your feet!”

I took a deep breath, clutching the wheelchair handles tightly. “…Alright, wait a moment. I’ll count to three, two, one, and then I’m really letting go!”

The Old Master nodded, gripping the armrests firmly. His throat bobbed, and his gaze flickered sideways. “Heh, don’t say it, this thing really is quite scary…”

I took another deep breath and shouted:

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

At the same instant, I sighed inwardly and released my grip on the handles. The wheelchair immediately slid downwards, at a moderate pace.

As the wheelchair descended, the Old Master let out a surprised laugh. He pressed his feet against the front footrests and raised both hands high into the air.

The moment the wheelchair began to slide, I sprinted a few quick steps to its side, following closely behind the Old Master.

I kept one hand hovering over the wheelchair’s handle, ready to grab it in case of any sudden emergency, like someone appearing in front.

Although the wheelchair had its own brakes that the Old Master could operate, I remained uneasy.

The wheelchair’s speed wasn’t fast, only slightly quicker than my jog. Yet, the Old Master continued to let out bursts of delighted laughter, clearly enjoying himself.

As I ran, I scanned the path ahead for any plastic bottles or small pebbles that might jostle the Old Master. Fortunately, the slope was quite clean, free of any debris.

I kept my eyes on the path, always ready to grab the wheelchair handle, while running breathlessly.

Midway down the slope, the Old Master’s hands gradually lowered, and he grew quiet.

This kind of activity was certainly novel for an elderly person, but once the initial thrill wore off, it likely lost its appeal.

The descent didn’t actually take very long, though it felt exceptionally protracted to me.

At the bottom of the slope, the wheelchair glided a short distance further on its own momentum before finally coming to a gentle stop.

I leaned on my knees, one hand still gripping the handle, and asked breathlessly, “Did you have fun, Old Master? Shouldn’t we head back now?”

The Old Master remained silent.

I was panting uncontrollably—not entirely from exhaustion, but mostly from sheer terror. I had run with such intense concentration, fearing a small pebble on the slope or someone suddenly darting out in front, my nerves stretched taut.

I truly hadn’t wanted the Old Master to do this. Aside from the risk of hitting someone—the wheelchair was heavy, and an impact would be painful, leading to potential demands for medical expenses even if I apologized—these were minor concerns.

The real catastrophe would be if the Old Master accidentally fell out!

With his frail, old bones and poor health, there was no telling what kind of injury a fall might cause.

If something truly went wrong, I would be a murderer.

Old Han had repeatedly warned me to take good care of the Old Master. If I, after only a few days, managed to “care” him to death, Old Han would likely cheerfully borrow a knife from Ming Hai, then just as cheerfully dismember me and stew my flesh.

I straightened up, still leaning on my knees, and lifted my head, panting. “Are we done…? Had enough fun, Old Master? Shouldn’t we go?”

The Old Master remained utterly silent. He lay tilted in his wheelchair, motionless, as if he hadn’t heard me at all.

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