Chapter 87: Contrast – The Wheelchair Race Arena.

After some playful bickering with his granddaughter, the old man finally conceded, promising not to speed around the Administrative Hall again.

The officer finally calmed down, asking, "Grandpa, what brings you here today?"

"Ah, I heard Ying Jie is back. I wanted to share a drink with him."

He Guan perked up his ears.

"Grandpa Lou isn't here. He's at the hospital."

"The hospital again?"

"If you're going to see him, don't speed on your wheelchair on the way to the hospital!" The officer warned, running out of patience.

"I won't, I won't," the old man's voice tightened, "I'm heading back now."

The officer double-checked, "So you're not going to see Mr. Lou?"

"I won't go, I'll only be in his way," the old man said, shaking his head. Waving at He Guan, he beckoned, "Young man, come here."

He Guan pushed the wheelchair, moving closer to the old man.

Both pant legs of the old man were hollow, indicating the absence of both his legs.

"Where are you from? You look unfamiliar. No strangers have been here for days," the old man said, circling He Guan with his wheelchair. "You resemble Lou Yingjie’s grandson, but that can't be right... He only has one eldest grandson. I've met him before, and you don’t look like him."

From his tone, it seemed he was quite familiar with Lou Yingjie.

Adopting Lou Yingjie's reference to himself, He Guan explained, "I'm his godson."

"Really?" the old man exclaimed, looking surprised. "He must think highly of you; even his biological son doesn't have that title."

Glancing at the bracelet in his hand, He Guan hesitated and asked, "His own son?"

"Yes, the one who can't see. He came last month and hasn't left since," the old man maneuvered his wheelchair, "Let's walk and talk. Since we're free today, I'll show you around."

As they moved along, they passed through a place named 'Repair Street.' The streets there were clean, albeit aged. Many repair shops had a piece of faded cloth out front, bearing inscriptions about their services.

Here, He Guan saw many shops fixing wheelchairs, hearing aids, and walking canes for the differently-abled. Such services were mainstream in this place.

However, there were also shops like those outside the island—fixing bicycles, electric bikes, mending clothes, adjusting quilts—tucked away in corners of the city, places young professionals like He Guan rarely frequented.

These shops were bustling, with a tangible sense of purpose and productivity.

By chance, He Guan noticed a tailor, missing a leg, with a sewing machine distinct from others. It appeared custom-designed, having an elbow-operated pedal mechanism. Above the store entrance hung exquisite cheongsam designs.

The mechanism had an elegant yet practical aesthetic, seeming as if meticulously tailored for her.

"Why doesn’t she use a prosthetic limb?" He Guan asked, once they were some distance away.

He had seen many such cases here.

They didn’t wear prosthetics. Missing an arm meant just that, and the same for a leg. There wasn't a pressing need to replicate their prior appearance.

The old man chuckled, "Do you often watch short videos?"

"Yes," He Guan replied, "I’ve seen videos of differently-abled individuals with fancy prosthetics."

Due to his work, He Guan watched many such clips.

"They aren't necessary here," the old man remarked, pointing to his own missing legs. "Being differently-abled isn’t unique or something to prove here. Why emphasize that you can still be... cool? Over time, newcomers who initially wear prosthetics often choose comfort over them. Besides, wearing a prosthetic for extended periods can cause discomfort at the attachment points; after all, it’s not a natural extension."

The people here had a distinct attitude.

He Guan couldn't fathom the courage it took to embrace such imperfections, but that didn't stop him from admiring them.

"To be honest," the old man added with a side glance, "you're less surprised than most."

“？”

"When some kids come here, their first reaction is to wonder why there are so many unusual people around."

Seizing the moment, He Guan asked, "Do you often stay indoors?"

"Yes," the old man nodded, "that tends to happen if they've been outside for too long."

"What does that mean? Please enlighten me."

The old man glanced at him, "Are you clueless? Being in an environment that doesn't accommodate one's needs is hardly comfortable. Most newcomers feel this way, probably thinking it's the same as the outside world."

He remarked thoughtfully, "True, even basic amenities like accessible elevators are scarce outside. And when found, many are non-functional, requiring assistance to operate. It's such a hassle."

He Guan instinctively wanted to counter that statement but then remembered Xingyu Corporation.

Such a massive enterprise, yet not a single accessible restroom.

What about other places?

The conclusion was obvious.

It was a world... not designed for them.

That world was built for the able-bodied.

The old man's words were straightforward and unpretentious, making his message clear to He Guan.

This represented a form of learned helplessness unique to the disabled.

Venturing outside meant facing challenges. This aversion to the outdoors reinforced the idea of the outside being full of obstacles. Moreover, genuine barriers existed everywhere:

Guided paths blocked by trees and parked vehicles; stairs abound everywhere except in public facilities like hospitals, making it impossible for wheelchair users; the hearing-impaired took risks at traffic lights, as not all drivers yield to pedestrians, and many would honk their way forward...

The more these thoughts are reinforced, the more ingrained they become.

Hence, even when they arrive here, they feel it's just like the outside world and need time to accept that their surroundings have changed.

He Guan's gaze settled on a craft shop's entrance.

The shopkeeper primarily crafted jewelry, stringing beautiful beads into necklaces and bracelets. Her aesthetic was impeccable, with a table brimming with creations.

However, her hands were deformed, seemingly scarred from burns suffered in childhood when her bones were still growing. As she grew, the scars restricted the growth of her hands.

If one had to describe, in comparison to the beads she crafted, her hands appeared quite out of the ordinary.

As He Guan conversed with the old man, she was threading beads with a crochet hook. Due to her hand's limited mobility, she inadvertently dropped a few beads. One rolled in front of He Guan's wheelchair.

He bent down to pick it up and steered his wheelchair to the shop's entrance. The entire street had no steps or thresholds, only ramps, making it spacious and allowing him unhindered access to the storefront.

Stopping at the entrance, he held up the bead. The shopkeeper, having collected the other beads, looked up and greeted him with a warm smile, "Thank you."

She reached out without hesitation, unafraid of her disfigured hand unsettling others. She simply took the bead from He Guan and resumed her work as if it were the most ordinary task.

He Guan turned away from her shop.

This place was far better than he had anticipated.

If Lou Yingjie's objective was to establish such a habitat, what was the deal with the businesses Lou Jun had seized?

Lost in thought, He Guan let his gaze wander, deeply puzzled.

"Lunchtime," the old man remarked as he observed He Guan, "Despite all my explanations, you still can't maneuver that wheelchair properly."

He Guan twirled the joystick, letting the wheelchair spin in a circle, showcasing his newfound ease.

"Humph, that's child's play. Let me show you some real skill."

"A wheelchair race?" He Guan asked, amused.

"There's a lot more to it than you think. Come, I'll show you the extent to which it can be mastered."

Eager to prove his prowess, the old man revved up his wheelchair and sped ahead.

Struggling to keep up, He Guan soon realized that the old man's wheelchair-handling skills were truly exceptional. It was as if he were racing a car.

But what he hadn't expected was an actual wheelchair racetrack.

Glancing up, He Guan spotted a sign reading "Lan Ting Wheelchair Racetrack." He hesitated and inquired, "Are you intending to drag me into a race?"

"You're overthinking. You're a novice! Racing you would be a guaranteed loss, and I'm no fool."

The old man's demeanor clearly read: "Not in it to lose money."

"Come with me, and I'll show you my equipment."

The old man gestured for He Guan to follow.

During their journey, He Guan had noticed that the tires and design of the old man's wheelchair differed from his. It seemed redesigned for weight distribution, with a heavier back to ensure balance. He Guan surmised that extra battery packs had been added to increase the wheelchair's endurance.

After two turns, He Guan realized there were no doors in sight.

"Aren't you afraid of theft?"

"We're a tight-knit community. Whoever steals can never hold their head up again. With such proximity, reaching out might mean grabbing an apple from the neighbor's," the old man said nonchalantly. "People here value their dignity far more than the able-bodied. Any thief would have their name plastered outside the next day."

Upon reaching their destination, He Guan was awestruck.

The wall before him was adorned with various tire models and framework blueprints spanning over five decades, each marked with a date.

At the top, one could trace back to the original, rudimentary wheelchair designs, evolving over the decades with numerous refinements, testament to the brilliant brainstorming of the designers.

It was a veritable showcase of evolution and innovation.

"Did you design all these?"

"Indeed."

"Yet, it seems not many people recognize you. You don't seem to have the same fame as my father..." He Guan remarked deliberately.

"Do you think everyone wants to be mobbed on the streets with greetings, just like him?" The old man retorted, seemingly irritated at the mention of Lou Yingjie.

"Li Lanting, can't you act your age for once?"

The sound of a walking stick tapping the ground approached them from behind.

He Guan turned and greeted, "Father."

"Yes," Lou Yingjie approached, stopping beside He Guan's wheelchair. Calmly, he inquired, "How was your experience today? Did this old fellow show you around properly?"

It turned out that the wheelchair-bound elder was specifically chosen by Lou Yingjie to guide He Guan.

"Humph," the old man responded impatiently, and swiftly wheeled away.

Though he had sought out Lou Yingjie for a drink, hearing his voice now seemed to urge him to leave.

Lou Yingjie didn't attempt to stop him. Instead, he turned to He Guan and repeated, "How do you feel about today?"

It wasn't a question He Guan could answer immediately. After a moment's reflection, he responded, "...I expected to see efforts aimed at helping the physically challenged return to a semblance of normalcy, using aids to make them feel like everyone else."

"Rather than striving to restore them to an 'average' standard, it's more about embracing their unique conditions." He Guan struggled to articulate his feelings, carefully choosing his words for fear of misrepresentation.

"Take wheelchairs, for example. Outside, they're merely mobility aids, with little thought given to their propulsion... But at their core, they're not so different from vehicles. They need power, maneuverability, and endurance. This perspective is commendable, or rather, it's a novel approach to transportation."

Lou Yingjie nodded approvingly, "Well said."

Curious, He Guan asked, "Who was that gentleman earlier?"

"I thought you might notice," Lou Yingjie said with a slight smile. "He's an old comrade-in-arms."

"We enlisted and went to battle together in our youth. To protect me... he lost both his legs in an explosion right before my eyes."

He Guan could hardly imagine such a gruesome scene. Merely hearing about it made his legs ache in phantom pain.

Lou Yingjie's gaze rested on the design blueprints covering the wall, "He's the smartest man I've ever known."

Beyond that, he shared no more, choosing to stand silently beside He Guan.

It was He Guan who broke the silence.

"I've been wondering about what's happening with Lou Jun."

"I'm quite curious about what's going on with Mr. Lou over there."

Lou Yingjie was taken aback, "I thought you wouldn't ask."

"Because it doesn't make sense." He Guan looked directly at him, "That's not right."

Lou Yingjie looked at him with an indulgent smile, much like a master admiring his favored pupil, saying, "You'll be here for quite some time, why not see for yourself?"

He Guan thought for a moment and realized it made sense, so he nodded in agreement.

"Don't be too indulgent with him," Lou Yingjie changed his tone, glancing at his waist, "If he's constantly bullied, I wonder what my youngest brother is really like."

He Guan's ears grew hot, but he managed to utter a word of agreement.

"Go home. I'll notify you in a few days to come sign the handover documents."

Before He Guan could respond, he felt a weight on the back of his head. An elderly hand had patted him.

The old man gently stroked him twice with his slender fingers, as if conveying unsaid words.

He was still seated in his wheelchair and couldn’t turn around in time. By the time he did, all he saw was the frail silhouette of the elderly man.

"Dad, where are you going?"

"To have a drink with him—"

"Drink in moderation!"

"Noted... You're such a nag."