1
The leadership at the Normal University Affiliated High School didn’t know how to handle the thorny situation of Zuo Si’an.
The school had detailed and strict regulations, with punishments ranging from warnings and demerits for minor infractions to expulsion for serious ones, but Zuo Si’an hadn’t violated any rule in the school code. According to what the school understood, she was merely a victim. The fact that a 14-year-old high school student had given birth was far too shocking for a major city, making all adults uncomfortable. They preferred to sigh privately rather than discuss it officially.
After repeated deliberation, the school decided to handle the matter quietly, only calling the most actively gossiping students to the dean’s office for stern warnings, while notifying all homeroom teachers to remind students to focus on their studies and not trust baseless rumors.
With the new semester beginning, after a winter break, the school’s criticism of Zuo Si’an shifted from open, intensive discussion to whispered gossip—no longer as clamorous, but still persisting. Almost all teachers avoided making direct eye contact with her, and no teacher would call on her to answer questions. Her deskmate’s parents even went to the homeroom teacher, strongly demanding their daughter be moved to a different seat. Her classmates’ attitudes toward her polarized: most viewed her as an outsider and tried to distance themselves from her. Even Liu Guanchao started avoiding her—not only stopping their shared trips to the cafeteria and no longer walking her to the bus stop after school, but actually taking detours when spotting her at school. Meanwhile, some classmates she’d never interacted with began finding various reasons to approach her.
She knew Liu Guanchao’s parents had always disapproved of him being too close to her, so while his reaction saddened her somewhat, she wasn’t inclined to blame him. The approaches from those unfamiliar classmates initially puzzled her until Wang Wanyi explained. In the story that Liu Yaqin had fabricated and spread, she was portrayed as a rebellious girl who defied convention and experienced the complete version of romance early, rather than a pitiful victim of a rape case. In this elite school, those classmates in the throes of adolescent awakening had developed an inexplicable admiration and worship toward her.
Being isolated was painful, but the approaches stemming from misunderstanding brought no comfort either. Yet she felt, to some degree, that she’d gained a kind of liberation she hadn’t expected. Without harboring hope, she no longer feared the anxiety of gain and loss, but simultaneously lost that force that had kept her docile and quiet. The despair, disgust, and anger in her heart tangled like weeds, growing at a speed she couldn’t control. She could no longer appear as an obedient girl, and certainly didn’t want to expend effort pretending to be like her peers.
The Normal University Affiliated High School maintained a high-intensity study schedule with frequent exams. Any student whose grades fell behind became obvious within a few weeks of testing. The homeroom teacher didn’t directly talk to Zuo Si’an like she did with other students, but instead called Yu Jia again.
Yu Jia could only accept all the teacher’s criticisms, promising to have a good talk with her daughter and urge her to refocus on her studies. But she had no clue how to approach the conversation.
She had always excelled in study and work. In her view, achieving good grades was natural—she’d never imagined her daughter would have problems in this area. But she also knew her daughter was different from before. When Zuo Xuejun said goodbye before returning to Ali, Zuo Si’an showed no sadness at the parting, merely saying “goodbye” indifferently, not even walking him downstairs.
Yu Jia didn’t approve of her daughter’s previous excessive attachment to and protection of her father, but such a drastic change deeply worried her. She tried countless times to communicate with her daughter. Zuo Si’an wasn’t ruder than before, just extremely cold, unwilling to respond to any topic, deflecting with a few words before shutting herself in her room. Today was no exception.
Yu Jia had to forcibly stop her: “Your exam scores have dropped severely these past few times. How about you take out your test papers and I’ll help you analyze where the problems are.”
Seeing she couldn’t escape, Zuo Si’an had no choice but to sit on the sofa, saying sullenly: “No need to analyze. I know the reason—I’m not focused enough in class.”
“Xiao An, I know you’re in a bad mood and need time…”
“Time? Time is the last thing I need. I have plenty of time—so much I don’t know how to pass it fast enough.”
Yu Jia was stunned: “Xiao An, you can’t give up on yourself like this.”
“I haven’t skipped classes, haven’t failed to do homework, haven’t gone out to fool around. How does that qualify as something as serious as giving up on myself?”
“That’s not what I meant, but students must focus on their studies.”
“I’ve been a good student for almost ten years. Surely I deserve forgiveness for not being able to muster the energy to focus now.”
She was so quick with her responses that Yu Jia was both surprised and annoyed, forcing down her displeasure: “Xiao An, I don’t want to be demanding about other things. But regarding studying, I can’t lower my expectations of you. A student’s duty is to study well. You’re at a critical period now—when you reach your second year of high school, you’ll have to choose between arts and sciences and be reassigned to new classes. Once you relax your standards, if your grades drop, it will be very difficult to catch up again.”
“What’s the point of barely keeping up?”
“This concerns your future. I know you’re not in the mood to hear this, but I know that if I let you be, I’d be irresponsible toward you.”
“Can you please stop repeatedly mentioning responsibility? I feel like I’m constantly making you all responsible for me, like I’m guilty of some grave sin.”
“We’re your parents. Being responsible for you is natural. Of course I can’t just watch you sink into an abnormal state.”
“What counts as normal? Is it normal as long as my grades stay in the top ten?”
“Xiao An, that attitude is wrong. I don’t just look at grades, but grades prove how much effort a person is willing to make for their future.”
“The future you’re talking about is nothing more than wanting me to be like you all—go to college, find a good job, then marry a good person. But divorce is possible, so what’s the point?”
Zuo Si’an kept bringing up questions about the meaning of life, leaving Yu Jia at a complete loss for words. She had a rigorous scientific mind and always considered herself someone who must have goals and pursuits in life, continuously making efforts. Even when encountering setbacks, one should face them actively. She firmly believed her life attitude was correct and had never been troubled by such grand, abstract questions. But facing her daughter’s utter despondency, she was completely helpless.
Fortunately, Zuo Si’an had no intention of continuing to argue with her. She instead offered consolation: “You don’t need to worry. It really doesn’t look good to be at the bottom of the class. I’ll try to do better on exams. If there’s nothing else, I’ll go back to my room first.”
Zuo Si’an kept her word. In the following exams, she showed slight improvement. After a few weeks of ups and downs, she miraculously maintained a level in the lower-middle range of her class. This certainly couldn’t satisfy Yu Jia, but it would no longer prompt teachers to feel the need to call her parents.
Her only friend at school now was Wang Wanyi. Wang Wanyi was an individualistic girl. Just as when they’d been deskmates before, they maintained a plain friendship, no closer than before. They didn’t cling together like typical girls, exchanging all of life’s trivial secrets whenever they had time, but would chat for a bit when they ran into each other. Sometimes Wang Wanyi would invite her out on weekends, assuring her that the people she hung out with weren’t from their school—”not these bookworms who only know how to study.” She had no real interest, but didn’t want to always refuse, so she occasionally joined them once.
Most who came were Li Yang’s friends—he had a fairly wide social circle. That day the weather wasn’t good, so they couldn’t play ball outdoors. What they did was actually quite innocent—just a large group of similarly-aged kids playing video games, shooting pool, then pooling money to sing for two hours at an affordable KTV. Zuo Si’an couldn’t share their enthusiasm, but just as with the academic performance she submitted, she knew how to stay in a safe and inconspicuous position, neither dampening others’ spirits nor forcing herself to join in the fun.
An unfamiliar boy tried hard to approach her, but she paid him no attention. Later, Wang Wanyi confirmed this: “He’s Li Yang’s friend. They met at a basketball game and often play ball together. He says he finds you very mysterious.”
She didn’t want to engage with the topic, making excuses about the approaching mid-term exams and not going out to play anymore. But that boy came to wait for her at the school gate. Li Yang and Wang Wanyi called her over, leaving her no choice but to go greet him. He automatically walked with her toward the bus stop, introducing himself: “My name is Xu Weiming. I’m in my second year at Huining High School.”
“Oh.”
“I want to pursue you, Zuo Si’an.”
She was startled by this straightforward confession, staring at him wide-eyed. He was a tall, handsome boy with closely cropped hair, healthy-colored skin, and when he smiled, he revealed snow-white teeth—quite pleasant to look at. She smiled too: “So has Li Yang told you about me?”
“He did. I think it doesn’t matter. Having rich life experiences is a good thing.”
She found this naive response both amusing and exasperating, saying with slight mockery: “So you came to find me to enrich your life?”
He didn’t mind at all: “We’ll enrich each other. Come watch me play ball tomorrow—you’ll find it interesting.”
Zuo Si’an had little interest in sports and didn’t think middle school basketball games were particularly entertaining. However, she had an inexpressible depression accumulating in her heart. Being able to sit in the sun watching them work up a sweat, thinking about nothing—for her, this was a rare mental escape. She likewise didn’t think Xu Weiming’s pursuit was very serious, nor did she plan to be with him. But others didn’t see it that way. Her new story quickly spread through the school, and classmates looked at her with something approaching awe.
For the first time in three months, Liu Guanchao stopped her outside the cafeteria: “Xiao An, you can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?”
“They say that Xu Weiming has had many girlfriends.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Everyone is gossiping about you.”
“When have they ever stopped gossiping about me?”
Liu Guanchao’s expression twisted somewhat. She softened, tempering her voice: “Don’t worry about my business or get all worked up about it. It has nothing to do with you, Xiao Chao.”
She prepared to leave. Liu Guanchao grabbed her arm. She turned back in surprise. The heavy pain in his eyes shocked her completely: “Xiao Chao, I know your parents have always been very strict with you. They told you not to talk to me for your own good. I can understand that. I won’t blame you. It’s fine.”
“But my sister…”
She cut him off: “Your sister was also forced. There’s no need to bring up this matter again. I’ll head back to the classroom first.”
Zuo Si’an could see Liu Guanchao was troubled, but she was so weighed down by her own troubles she could barely breathe—she truly had no extra energy to care about what deep worries he was caught in. After thinking it over, she found a public phone after school and dialed Gao Xiang’s number. Since leaving her home before Spring Festival, he hadn’t appeared before her again.
“This is Zuo Si’an.”
“Xiao An, what’s the matter?”
“If it’s convenient… I’d like to see you.”
Gao Xiang was silent for a long while on the other end before finally saying: “Xiao An, if there’s something, just tell me over the phone.”
Spring had arrived and it had long been warm, yet a thread of coldness rose in her heart: “So you’re unwilling to see me anymore?”
He fell silent again. She knew this forced question served no purpose, yet she needed to know a definite answer. She too stubbornly remained silent, waiting for his response.
“Xiao An, if there’s anything you need my help with, just tell me. But I think it’s not convenient for me to see you anymore.”
She softly said “Oh” and hung up the phone.
2
Gao Xiang hadn’t expected Liu Guanchao to come to his office, and was somewhat surprised: “What do you need?”
Liu Guanchao’s face was tense, not looking at him: “Please go persuade Xiao An not to date that boy named Xu Weiming.”
Gao Xiang was shocked: “Dating?”
“She’s been very close with that boy lately. Every weekend afternoon she goes to Zhongshan Park to watch him play basketball.”
Gao Xiang was silent for a moment: “That’s nothing serious.”
Liu Guanchao grew anxious: “But everyone at school is talking about it. That boy attends Huining High School, his grades aren’t good, and he’s famously fickle. Just because he’s good-looking, since middle school he’s changed girlfriends almost every semester. Now many people… know about Xiao An. He’s just using Xiao An to brag.”
“You’re Xiao An’s friend. If these things are true, you should tell her honestly and let her make the judgment.”
Liu Guanchao struggled for a while: “Even if she’s still willing to consider me a friend, I don’t have the thick skin to act like nothing happened.”
“That matter was done by your sister. It’s not related to you…”
“It’s not completely unrelated to me.”
The pain of this half-grown boy was so heavy that Gao Xiang fell silent for a moment.
“I called Aunt Yu. She didn’t take it seriously. She said Xiao An is too lonely—being able to make friends with people her own age might be a good thing. At least Xiao An is still willing to listen to you. Please, you must go persuade her. She’s already… very isolated at school. I don’t want her to be hurt by that person and become the topic of everyone’s gossip again.”
Liu Guanchao turned to leave. Gao Xiang called out: “Is your family’s life okay?”
Without turning back, he walked out while saying: “That has nothing to do with you.”
Receiving Zuo Si’an’s call had been over a month ago. From Spring Festival until now, Gao Xiang hadn’t seen her for nearly three months. He didn’t know from what position he could persuade her. He thought Yu Jia probably felt that if Zuo Si’an must interact with the opposite sex, being with a boy her own age was far safer than spending time with him. He had to admit he even shared the same view.
But when Saturday came, he still went to the basketball court in Zhongshan Park that Liu Guanchao had mentioned. All four courts with simple facilities had people playing ball. Zuo Si’an and another girl sat on a nearby bench, but her gaze seemed to pass through the shouting, active court, looking continuously into the distance. She wasn’t wearing her school uniform, but a thin, loose gray top and light blue jeans. The south wind blew strongly, billowing her clothes and sending her hair streaming backward.
A tall, athletic boy in a sports tank top and shorts walked over. She casually handed him a bottle of water. He squatted in front of her, drinking water while talking to her about something.
Gao Xiang watched this scene from afar. He was only twenty-five, but felt the world of these children seven or eight years younger than him was already extremely distant. If Zuo Si’an was happy, what qualification and need did he have to go disturb her? He was just about to turn and leave when he saw a long-haired girl walk over to join the conversation. Zuo Si’an stood up to leave but was blocked by that girl. The boy also stood up, looking very angry as they argued.
He strode over, only hearing the long-haired girl say contemptuously: “What are you putting on airs for? You think he really likes you? He just made a bet with someone, saying he could make you fall for him.”
Zuo Si’an said calmly: “Fighting over this kind of thing is too meaningless.”
That girl was somewhat intimidated by her attitude. After pausing a moment, she said huffily: “No wonder you have all those messy rumors about you. Turns out you really have no self-respect at all.”
The surroundings quieted down. The ball players all stopped to look in this direction. That boy angrily pushed the girl: “What nonsense are you talking?” Then turning to Zuo Si’an: “She’s crazy. Don’t listen to her rambling.”
That girl looked aggressive and quite formidable, but being clearly slighted by the boy’s obvious favoritism enraged her to the point where she suddenly sat down on the ground and started crying.
Zuo Si’an looked down at her with slight pity: “Fighting and crying over a boy in public isn’t exactly a display of self-respect either.”
That girl, through her tears, started cursing: “Stop preaching at me. Get lost, everyone leave me alone.”
“I really should go home and do homework anyway. Goodbye.”
She walked toward the edge of the court and came face to face with Gao Xiang. She froze for a moment, said nothing, and gestured for him to turn around too. After walking some distance away, she asked: “Didn’t you say it wasn’t convenient to see me anymore? Why did you come here?”
He angrily countered: “Why are you mixing with this kind of boy?”
She was about to answer when someone called from behind: “Zuo Si’an.”
“He’s not bad at all—smart, healthy, cheerful, good at making people happy. And he doesn’t think being seen with me is something shameful.”
“He approached you because of a bet. Sooner or later he’ll hurt your heart.”
“I don’t have a spare heart for him to hurt.” Zuo Si’an laughed loudly. “I don’t care why he came or how he brags to people. Whoever takes these little things seriously is a fool.”
Gao Xiang was quite surprised, and at the same time thought—forget Zuo Si’an, even he himself felt that what he’d just said sounded ridiculously earnest. The girl before him had smiling eyes, as if she’d broken free from some restraint or shackle. She no longer seemed to shrink into an invisible shell like before, but this complete indifference was just another form of self-protection.
All he could say was: “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
But Zuo Si’an didn’t move. She looked thoughtfully at Gao Xiang, then suddenly asked: “I called you, and you wouldn’t even see me. Why did you come looking for me today?”
“I was worried about you.”
“Mm, you feel I’m in a situation again where I need your help. If you don’t step in, I might go astray. If everything’s fine with me and I don’t need your worry, you won’t come see me in the future. Did I understand that wrong?”
Gao Xiang didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t seem to need an answer either: “I don’t want to go home right now. Walk with me.”
Hanjiang City’s spring was always so brief it seemed to flash by in an instant, making it especially precious. New green leaves, lush vegetation, even the air carried a fresh scent. Zhongshan Park was located in the city center. Apart from the amusement area being somewhat crowded, behind it was planted a grove of tall, straight dawn redwoods—very quiet. They strolled forward along a pebble-paved path. The dawn redwood leaves rustled overhead in the wind, sunlight cast irregular circles of light on the ground, and unknown birds sang incessantly among the leaves.
Zuo Si’an maintained silence throughout. Gao Xiang felt this wordless state had an indescribable oppressive quality and tried to find a topic: “I’ve been to many cities that all have a Zhongshan Park.”
“My dad said that too. Many cities he’s been to all have Shenyang Road, Shanghai Road, Tianjin Road. Really don’t understand why everyone takes such shortcuts, unwilling to come up with distinctive names.”
“Is your dad doing okay?”
She answered without expression: “Don’t know. Even if he’s not okay, he probably wouldn’t tell me.”
“What about you? How are things at school?”
“Same as always.”
This unusually brief answer made him uneasy: “Last time you called, I didn’t come out, but…”
At this moment, she stopped. He stopped too. Just as he was about to continue speaking, she suddenly threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly, her face pressed against his white shirt below his neck. He was shocked, almost instinctively glancing around—there was no one nearby. He tried to pull her hands away: “Xiao An, is there something you want to tell me?”
She stubbornly clung to him tightly, as if trying to embed herself into his body. While he felt awkward, he also sensed her slightness, suppleness, warmth. At the same time, he clearly recognized that he’d been forcefully suppressing his desire for this body for several months and could no longer forcibly pull her hands away. He held her, kissed her shining black hair, gently stroked her face. She stood on tiptoe, kissing his lips. He contradictorily dodged away, holding her chin to look at her, bittersweet feelings intertwining: “We can’t do this, Xiao An.”
“Maybe it’ll never be like this again. Because,” she said softly, “my mom plans to take me to America.”
3
Yu Jia hadn’t mentioned her divorce to colleagues, but her interactions with Peter had long attracted their attention. Intellectuals gossiping differed very little from ordinary common folk. And Yu Jia happened to face competition for promotion and professional title evaluation. No one questioned her professional competence—her high-quality papers and strong work abilities had long been recognized by the entire Water Conservancy Science Research Institute and earned her some renown in domestic academic circles. Her private life became her only soft spot. Even her daughter’s situation had circulated through various channels.
Yu Jia had never imagined she’d become fodder for others’ gossip. Focused on academics, she had no concept of political struggles. While feeling disheartened, she also better understood the pressure Zuo Si’an endured and worried endlessly about her daughter’s abnormally calm demeanor.
Peter had only signed a one-year short-term contract with the local university and would return home by summer. He proposed to her. She refused in shock: “No. I divorced my husband because we had emotional problems and irreconcilable conflicts. If I get together with you right after divorcing, it would completely confirm that I was the unfaithful party in the marriage.”
“You can’t care so much about others’ opinions.”
“But I do care. I’m not prepared to start another relationship. More importantly, if I remarry now, my daughter will never be able to forgive me.”
“If your daughter can never accept that life has changed, are you going to keep letting her drain you forever?”
Yu Jia remained silent.
“You should take your daughter and change environments. That would be good for both of you.”
These were words Zuo Xuejun had also said. She could only smile bitterly: “Where would I go? In China, transferring work isn’t easy, and I don’t want to give up my profession.”
“You once told me you hoped to have opportunities for further academic development. Have you considered going to America as a postdoctoral fellow or visiting scholar? With your performance in your professional field, getting an offer shouldn’t be a problem.”
Years ago, after completing her master’s degree, Yu Jia had indeed considered going abroad for a PhD. But thinking it over, her husband had already shouldered the vast majority of responsibility for caring for their daughter to support her. Even if he supported the idea, she couldn’t get past her own conscience. So she chose to work in research while continuing her PhD at her alma mater, though with some regret in her heart.
She began seriously considering Peter’s suggestion and increasingly felt it was feasible. She was a standard action-oriented person. Once decided, she immediately prepared materials. Peter helped her send recommendation letters, but how to discuss this with her daughter troubled her.
She had never been skilled at subtle, roundabout conversation. She’d only given an opening line when Zuo Si’an, with excessive perceptiveness, sensed this wasn’t an ordinary talk about her study and life situation. She raised her eyes to look at her: “Didn’t you say you didn’t want to give up your work? How did you suddenly have the idea of going abroad? This has something to do with that foreigner, doesn’t it?”
Yu Jia couldn’t continue beating around the bush under that gaze and could only speak directly: “The suggestion was indeed Peter’s. After considering it, I felt it was feasible. As a postdoctoral fellow, I can bring my underage children along. America has high educational standards. If you finish high school there, you’ll have opportunities to apply to quite good universities.”
“The way you put it makes it sound like you’re completely thinking of me. I don’t need you to make such a big sacrifice for me.”
Yu Jia ignored the mockery in Zuo Si’an’s tone, saying calmly: “No, this isn’t a sacrifice. I’ve always dreamed of going to a place with higher academic standards to study and develop further.”
“But that’s your dream, not mine.”
“Xiao An, you can’t maintain this disheartened, getting-by, uninterested-in-everything attitude. You’re already seventeen. You must make plans for your own future.”
“So I must accept your arrangements and fulfill your dreams?”
“That’s certainly not what I mean. All my goals and dreams—I’ll strive to accomplish them myself and won’t transfer them onto you. But I do have expectations of you. I hope you won’t waste your time idly. People must live with purpose for life to have meaning. I’ll do my best to create conditions for you to realize your ideals.”
Her mother spoke very sincerely, yet Zuo Si’an couldn’t be moved. She asked directly: “Will you marry Peter?”
Yu Jia didn’t intend to lie: “Not currently.”
“Right, remarrying so soon after divorcing would be too fast.”
She’d said almost the same words to Peter, but hearing them from her daughter’s mouth left a bad taste.
“So you’ve already decided to go to America.”
“As long as I can receive an offer, I’ll talk to my supervisor and apply for a visa.”
“I’m not an adult yet, so either I go to America with you or go to Ali to be with Dad, right?”
Yu Jia immediately shook her head: “Your dad said that even Tibetan children have to come to the mainland to study. How could you go to Ali?”
“Dad is already eager to avoid me. Why would I go bother him? Looks like I have no other choice.”
“Xiao An, don’t look at it with that mindset. Think carefully—what about the current environment is worth your attachment?”
Zuo Si’an suddenly raised her eyes. Yu Jia startled, suddenly realizing her daughter did indeed have attachments. Both fell silent simultaneously. After a pause, Zuo Si’an finally couldn’t maintain her cold attitude. She weakened, looking at Yu Jia with a nearly pleading voice: “Mom, I know you have dreams, but I really don’t want to go abroad. Can’t you wait two more years? Just two years. Once I get into college, you can go. I promise I’ll study hard and get into a good university.”
“How could I possibly leave you behind and go to America alone?”
“That’s not leaving me behind. I’m very grateful you’ve been staying with me.”
Yu Jia felt an indescribable sense of defeat: “Xiao An, I’m your mother, you’re my daughter. Anything I do for you is willing—I don’t need your gratitude.” She said nothing.
“You’re reluctant to leave Hanjiang City?”
She remained silent.
“I know. Gao Xiang is the real reason you don’t want to leave.”
She maintained an expressionless face, but her eyes looked at her mother with vigilance. Yu Jia steeled her heart, deciding to speak plainly: “Your dad had a huge fight with me about what he saw that day he came back. He blamed me for not preventing Gao Xiang from getting close to you. He has a point. Gao Xiang isn’t someone you should like. Whether from his family background or his age, you shouldn’t have any feelings for him.”
Zuo Si’an was enraged: “You should have thought of that when you entrusted me to him and had him take me to Ali.”
“Your dad blaming me like that is one thing, but you saying this is too much, Xiao An.”
Zuo Si’an pressed her lips together tightly.
“At that time, Gao Xiang had a girlfriend and they seemed very much in love. Otherwise, how could I have felt comfortable letting you go to Ali with him? His mother accused you of being the reason he broke up with his girlfriend. Isn’t that enough?”
“I didn’t…”
“I know. I’ve never blamed you for that. He’s an adult—he should handle his own relationship matters. Whatever happened shouldn’t be blamed on you. Xiao An, you’re growing up. It’s normal to like someone of the opposite sex. Gao Xiang just happens to be the person who appeared most frequently in your life and showed you enough care. You’re too lonely. You unknowingly used him to fill the void left by your father.”
“No, it’s not like you said. I have a father. I don’t need anyone to replace him, and I certainly couldn’t treat Gao Xiang as a father.”
“Then what can you treat him as? As a boyfriend? After that incident at Spring Festival, he never appeared again. This proves even he knows it’s wrong for him to get close to you. You’re still young, but he’s already twenty-five, has had a girlfriend, and fully understands what should exist between men and women.”
Zuo Si’an painfully turned her head to the side, her hands wringing tightly together.
“That’s right, he’s been very good to you. I’m grateful to him for that, and I have no doubts about his character. But he’s absolutely not someone for you. You just turned seventeen. In the future, you’ll meet different people, experience a broader world. Only then will you know what you truly want.”
“And then at forty, you realize what you wanted before wasn’t precious? When it’s time to let go, just let go, because ahead there’s a brighter life, more heart-stirring people waiting for you?”
Zuo Si’an had mocked before, but always gently and with restraint. This was the first time she displayed such sharpness. Yu Jia had no response. After a while, she said helplessly: “I don’t blame you, Xiao An. You need to grow up enough to understand the complexity of emotions. Setting aside everything else, Gao Xiang and Sun Ruodi were in love for four years and still broke up. His feelings for you are just pity and guilt. He wants to make up for the wrong his sister Qin Qi committed…”
“It’s not like you say.”
“Xiao An, don’t deceive yourself. The feelings he has for you may contain elements of love, but the difference from real romantic love is far too great.”
This was something Zuo Si’an couldn’t refute: “I never thought about being with him, but… I just…” She couldn’t continue.
“I understand, Xiao An. The future is still too distant for you. You can’t think about emotional matters in concrete terms. You’re just reluctant to leave like this. But have you thought about why your father was so furious when he discovered you two together? Why does his mother see you as a thorn in her side? Setting aside everything else, I originally thought his family would stay in Qinggang with that… child. I didn’t expect everyone to end up living in the same city now. If you stay, you’ll be a source of trouble for him too. Why force him to make a choice you can’t accept?”
Zuo Si’an stared blankly at her mother.
“Even if you can’t understand my decision now, I must take you to America to start over.”
In her uncertainty and hesitation, Zuo Si’an called Gao Xiang. He seemed very cold, refusing to see her. Hanging up the phone, she thought—perhaps her mother’s words weren’t without merit.
But the embrace and kiss from before Spring Festival, like a brand, left her restless with uncontrollable longing.
In a secluded corner of the park, Zuo Si’an hugged Gao Xiang tightly, feeling his arms tighten, his chest solid. A thought suddenly rose in her heart: she didn’t care whether his concern for her stemmed from guilt—she needed this embrace. Recklessly, she stood on tiptoe again to kiss his lips, completely without technique. He tilted his head back, forcefully pushing her away slightly, speaking to her, but she couldn’t hear clearly. A low rumbling sound seemed to fill her ears. She could only look at him in confusion. He suddenly pushed her so her back pressed against a dawn redwood tree and began kissing her. This kiss took away her breath and what remained of her consciousness.
When she regained awareness, she discovered his body’s warmth had left her. Behind her, the dawn redwood had a hard, straight texture. Sunlight filtered down in wavering patches. Small birds still chirped endlessly in the branches, leaves rustling in the wind.
Gao Xiang stood several steps away, appearing especially distant. She was suddenly seized by nameless fear, shrinking her body, staring blankly at Gao Xiang.
“I don’t want to go to America. I want to stay…” Regarding the life ahead, she had no clear plans. She only thought about staying in this city. Yet any hope, once spoken aloud, no longer had the firmness it possessed while lurking in her heart. It seemed to instantly become a delusion she couldn’t even convince herself of.
Gao Xiang still prudently maintained distance from her: “Xiao An, I’ll talk with your mother and see what she’s thinking.”
She murmured: “My thoughts have never been important, have they?”
“No, Xiao An. But you’re not yet an adult. Your mother is your guardian. She has the right to make arrangements for your life.”
“I want to be with you.”
Gao Xiang struggled against the stirring within, painfully shaking his head: “You don’t understand at all what being together means.”
“I understand.”
“Xiao An, I can’t continue treating you like a child the way I used to.”
“I’m already seventeen. I’m not a child anymore.”
“But you’re not an adult either. If I abuse your trust in me, I can’t forgive myself either.”
“I’ll soon be in my second year of high school. In two more years, I can go to college. By that time…” She paused, her pale face flushing red. She steadied herself, seeing a strange light flash in Gao Xiang’s eyes, his expression so complex she couldn’t identify it. She didn’t let herself think further, throwing herself into his arms again, repeating: “I don’t want to go to America, Gao Xiang.”
4
The next morning, Gao Xiang called Yu Jia, arranging to meet her at a coffee shop near her home.
Yu Jia sighed: “Gao Xiang, I guessed Xiao An probably went to talk with you. Even if you hadn’t come to find me, I would have looked for you. I hope you’ll persuade Xiao An to go abroad with me.”
“But Xiao An doesn’t seem to want to go abroad.”
“We’re both adults, Gao Xiang. No need to beat around the bush. You know as well as I do why Xiao An wants to stay.”
Gao Xiang had nothing to say.
“Xiao An developing feelings for you isn’t your fault. Her father is distant from her, and I as a mother have also failed—I’ve never communicated enough with her. I repeatedly turned to you for help, until you’ve become almost the only person she trusts.”
“Teacher Yu, you don’t need to blame yourself. Feelings have never been one-sided. I admit I also have feelings for Xiao An.”
“But feelings come in many kinds. Can you be certain of the nature of your feelings?”
Gao Xiang fell silent.
“Xiao An is still young. She has no concept of romantic love between men and women. The feelings she’s identified might be completely different from yours. Nor can she possibly understand what a relationship without a future, one that won’t receive anyone’s recognition or blessing, means. You’re different. You’re an adult. If you allow her to continue like this, then I can’t forgive you.”
He said with difficulty: “Teacher Yu, I won’t take advantage of your daughter.”
“I’ve never doubted that, Gao Xiang.”
“Xiao An really is still young and very fragile. Do you think taking her abroad to cope with an unfamiliar environment, possibly even facing your remarriage—is that really better for her?”
“I’ve considered all of this. So when Peter proposed to me and wanted to take me abroad to settle, I didn’t agree. I’d rather apply as a postdoctoral fellow and go abroad on my own merits. Regarding my daughter’s future, my work—no decision is easy. I must honestly tell you, Xiao An is the biggest reason for my determination. Two months ago, one night, I was rushing to finish a project report at home. At three in the morning, I heard Xiao An screaming. I ran to her room. She’d just had a nightmare, her expression pained, clutching the small cloth bear she always kept by her bed, her forehead covered in cold sweat…” Yu Jia’s voice broke off. After a moment, she barely regained composure. “Usually I sleep very deeply. This was the first time I’d seen her have a nightmare. I woke her and asked what she’d dreamed—talking about it might help. But she wouldn’t say anything.”
Gao Xiang held his breath. He thought he knew what invaded Zuo Si’an’s dreams.
“After that, I paid attention. She goes to bed very late every day and rarely sleeps soundly and peacefully—she’s in a state of chronic insomnia. She won’t talk about her nightmares, won’t voluntarily mention her schoolmates’ gossip about her. I’d always thought she’d become strong, that we’d gotten through the most difficult times. But I’ve increasingly discovered I was wrong. What happened to her—both her father and I find it hard to face. Add the rumors—forcing a child to endure it is simply too cruel.”
She’d already struggled alone for several years. Gao Xiang thought painfully—he hadn’t been able to give her much help either.
“No matter how much I disagree with her father’s behavior, I have to admit on this point, he’s probably somewhat right. Xiao An’s schoolwork has plummeted. She can’t muster interest in anything. If she continues giving up on herself like this, she’ll be ruined. Taking her abroad, changing environments, permanently leaving behind everything from the past—maybe that’s the right choice.”
“But she doesn’t think so.”
“I know. She’s overly sensitive, even thinking Peter is my biggest reason for going abroad. I’m forcing her to go with me. Right now, she might resent me, but as a mother, I can’t worry about that. I hope you can persuade her to go to America with me.”
“Teacher Yu, if I persuade Xiao An like that, to her it means a kind of abandonment. I’m afraid she can’t withstand such a blow.”
“Gao Xiang, are you reluctant to see Xiao An hurt, or reluctant to let go of her dependence on you?”
Faced with this sharp question, Gao Xiang couldn’t answer, only saying: “I won’t influence Xiao An’s thinking.”
“You know as well as I do that you can’t forever play a father’s role in her life, nor can you have other possibilities with her. I’m grateful for your care for Xiao An. I believe you wouldn’t enjoy seeing her unable to start a new life either.”
Gao Xiang drove Yu Jia home, parked his car in a secluded spot not far ahead, and began chain-smoking. From last night until now, he’d smoked nearly two packs. He knew very well that for someone like him with little smoking habit, suddenly producing such a strong, sustained need for nicotine was just a physiological reaction to his inner anxiety. Like the smoke lingering around him refusing to disperse, his mind was filled with nothing but yesterday afternoon’s scene at Zhongshan Park.
Zuo Si’an might not have a clear concept of what happened, but Gao Xiang understood perfectly. His desire had accumulated unknowingly, far more complex and urgent than a simple embrace, a lingering kiss. A voice in his head reminded him that if he continued like this, he wouldn’t be able to turn back. He used what remained of his rationality to force himself to release her, step away, trying to calm himself down.
Zuo Si’an stood motionless against a dawn redwood tree, tilting her head to look at the sky. Sunlight shone through the leaves onto her face. That face had completely shed the blurred, uncertain lines of childhood, possessing a young girl’s clear, lovely contours. Yet she was obviously in a state of panic, her body—which had been soft as water in his arms moments ago—now tense.
Yes, she’d never been able to escape her nightmares. Even in such excessively bright summer sunlight, the rats lurking in darkness still watched her. Apart from taking her to Ali, despite being in the same city, he had various taboos. The times he saw her each year could be counted on one hand. The help he gave her was limited—he couldn’t help her drive away her inner demons. While so fragile, she could still clearly tell him she wanted to stay in this city. This courage completely exceeded his expectations. He was struck by the passion radiating from that face. He’d never considered himself a cowardly person, but in that moment, he couldn’t speak the desire that had always been in his heart. Even though she was no longer a little girl whose proximity by an adult man would arouse strange associations, he couldn’t allow himself to respond to her feelings.
His love for her—he didn’t know from which moment it began—had become so complex and unspeakable that it reached a degree even he couldn’t accept or face directly. He needed to exert effort to restrain himself from seeing her. Once he saw her, once he held her, the layers of psychological defenses he’d built crumbled instantly like sand dunes under a swift tide.
“I want to be with you”—these words clung to him inescapably.
Keep her, care for her, wait for her to grow up—this thought circled endlessly in Gao Xiang’s mind. But he couldn’t say it. Without Yu Jia’s reminder or warning, he also knew they faced numerous objections. His heart harbored too many taboos and hesitations—blameless, he couldn’t voice any objection that would hold water. If she were far across the ocean, never to meet again, perhaps it would be safer and easier to accept for both him and her. The problem that had troubled him so long being resolved this way might be for the best—this thought surfaced coldly. But he felt no sense of relief or liberation whatsoever.
He wondered if he could calmly look into her eyes and tell her: “Go to America. That’s best for you.”
5
Zuo Si’an was alone at home, restless, completely unable to concentrate on homework. Hearing the doorbell, she opened it to find Liu Guanchao with his backpack standing outside.
“Xiao Chao, why are you here?”
“Final exams are coming up. Xiao An, let me tutor you a bit.”
“No need.”
“You did too poorly on the last exam. If this continues…”
“Xiao Chao, don’t worry about me. You’ll be in your third year soon. If you keep wasting time on me, your parents won’t be happy.”
Liu Guanchao stood without moving or speaking, his expression stubborn. Zuo Si’an sighed helplessly: “Come in.”
They sat down in the living room. She took out her textbooks. Liu Guanchao began explaining the key points in math. He always had exceptional ability to extract and summarize, explaining very clearly, but she still found it difficult to concentrate. After listening for a while, she had to apologize: “Xiao Chao, I didn’t sleep well last night. I have a terrible headache. Continuing like this really is wasting your time. I’ll go lie down. You do your own homework here, and when my mom comes back, let’s have lunch together, okay?”
She stood up, only to hear Liu Guanchao say softly: “I’m sorry, Xiao An.”
Somewhat surprised and annoyed, she smiled: “I know you can’t accept me being a waste, doing poorly academically and not striving to improve. But you can’t make me feel guilty by blaming yourself like this.”
“I don’t mean that. The person who should feel guilty is me.”
“I’ll say this again, Xiao Chao. Doing poorly on exams is my own problem. It has nothing to do with you.”
“No,” Liu Guanchao raised his head to look at her, biting his lip. “Actually, it was my sister who harmed you. I’m responsible too.”
She frowned and shook her head: “I already said, I don’t blame her for that matter, and I certainly won’t blame you. Why must you keep bringing it up and taking on such a huge burden?”
“Xiao An, you still don’t understand what I’m referring to. My sister deliberately had me take you to the nursing school’s back gate. That’s why you encountered…”
He couldn’t continue. She was already stunned in shock, looking at him incredulously. After a long while, she said: “How is that possible?”
“After she spread that story about you at our school, Gao Xiang forced it out of her. I happened to overhear.”
Her heart beat at a frantic speed, as if it would leap out through her mouth. Her legs went weak. She sat on the sofa, asking almost mechanically: “But why would she do that?”
“I… don’t know. Actually, I’d been a bit suspicious already,” Liu Guanchao continued in a hoarse voice. “That summer, one day I saw my sister get out of that Chen Ziyu person’s Mercedes. They looked like they’d known each other for a long time. When I asked her, she flew into a rage, saying I’d seen wrong, forbidding me to mention it to anyone again.”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
Liu Guanchao’s mouth opened and closed. After a long while, he said with difficulty: “Xiao An, she’s my sister. I really couldn’t be certain.”
“Then why come tell me now?” She looked straight at Liu Guanchao. “Do you want me to say it’s fine, I forgive you?”
He shook his head violently, saying incoherently: “No, no, Xiao An. I didn’t come seeking your forgiveness. After hearing her admit it, I can’t even forgive her. I’ve had no way to face you, but even avoiding you, I can’t forget about this. I don’t know what I should do. Thinking it over, I thought I could only take care of you for life, to atone for her sins.”
Looking at Liu Guanchao’s distorted expression, she couldn’t say anything more. After a long while, she waved her hand: “Go.”
“Xiao An, I…”
“I don’t need your care. I never want to hear you mention this again. Leave now.”
As the door closed behind Liu Guanchao, Zuo Si’an hugged her head, curling into a ball.
Actually, she’d had some vague suspicions in her heart all along. Before that incident, she and Liu Yaqin weren’t familiar. To her, Liu Yaqin was just Liu Guanchao’s sister—pretty, but with a bad temper and cold eyes. Their limited interaction consisted of Liu Yaqin coming to her home to call her brother back for meals. Occasionally when her dad was home, Liu Yaqin would properly say: “Hello, County Magistrate Zuo.”
Continuing to recall, she remembered once when she had a cold and poor appetite for days, she casually mentioned wanting radish and crucian carp soup. Liu Yaqin delivered fresh crucian carp for her mother. Zuo Xuejun immediately went to the kitchen to cook fish soup for her.
Liu Yaqin said to her: “Your dad is really good to you.”
She’d answered proudly and contentedly with a smile: “Yes, my dad loves me most.”
A cryptic cold smile appeared at the corner of Liu Yaqin’s mouth as she said lightly: “You’re lucky.” Then she turned and left.
After the incident, Liu Yaqin suddenly became warm and caring toward her, constantly comforting her while simultaneously trying hard to distance herself from any connection to it, repeatedly instructing them not to reveal that she’d arranged to meet them at the nursing school’s back gate. She was in a state of extreme terror and shame, focused only on hiding it from her father, with no time to think about the strange aspects. By the time concealment became impossible, several months had passed. She’d been interrogated repeatedly by her father to near collapse, completely unable to think calmly. What followed was her effort to forget, even more unwilling to touch or analyze any questionable points about that incident.
Now Zuo Si’an had to search her memory, trying to find a definite answer.
However, what first surfaced were the details of that dark day that had never been worn away. All the terrifying details surged up in competition, segment by segment connecting together, clear as if they’d just happened: the smell of grass, the suddenly stopped Mercedes, her name called out by a strange man, the dazzling reflection of metal in sunlight, the scent of new leather, sharp pain…
Her whole body went cold, shaking uncontrollably. She couldn’t believe the complete reversal of her fate was merely due to Liu Yaqin’s orchestration, and she would never be able to figure out why.
A thought suddenly appeared in Zuo Si’an’s mind: Liu Yaqin was Liu Guanchao’s sister, and Chen Ziyu was Gao Xiang’s uncle. They both knew about this when the rumors started but unanimously chose to remain silent toward her. Liu Guanchao had been avoiding her until he could no longer overcome the torment of guilt, finally telling her the truth and promising to always care for her. So what about Gao Xiang?
She’d actually gone to tell him she wanted to stay in Hanjiang. No wonder his expression was so complex, unable to answer.
Zuo Si’an didn’t know how long she sat there in a daze. Yu Jia came home, asking in surprise: “Xiao An, what’s wrong?”
She raised her head, looking at Yu Jia as if not recognizing her. Yu Jia was frightened by her complexion and expression, reaching out to touch her forehead: “Why so much cold sweat? Are you sick?”
“I’m fine.” Yu Jia went to the bathroom, wrung out a hot towel, and wiped her forehead. She suddenly said: “Mom, I’m willing to go to America with you.”
Yu Jia froze completely. After talking with Gao Xiang, he’d just driven her home without giving her a clear answer. She stared at her daughter, only seeing Zuo Si’an gathering the textbooks spread on the coffee table, looking quite calm.
“You’ve thought it through?”
She answered simply: “Mm.”
Yu Jia understood that if Zuo Si’an was unwilling to talk, she couldn’t possibly know why her daughter had suddenly changed her position. But she didn’t intend to probe for reasons: “That’s good then. I’ve researched America’s school system. High school there runs from ninth to twelfth grade, four years total. You’re about to enter your second year. The safest approach is to start from tenth grade, but your English has always been good. Applying directly to eleventh grade—you should be able to keep up. What do you think?”
“Mm, that works.”
“Good. This afternoon I’ll take you to register for an English training class. Starting now, intensify listening and speaking practice. We absolutely can’t waste any more time.”
She obediently nodded in agreement: “I’ll go downstairs for a walk. I’ll be back soon.”
Zuo Si’an left the residential compound, found a public phone, and dialed Gao Xiang’s mobile: “Please forget what I said yesterday. I’ve decided to go to America with my mom.”
He was obviously very surprised, blurting out: “Why?”
“I think this way is better for me and for everyone.”
“Xiao An, where are you now?”
“Near my home.”
“I’m not far from your home. I’ll come right over.”
“No, no need.”
“Wait for me.”
A few minutes later, Gao Xiang drove up. Zuo Si’an pulled open the car door, smelling a heavy tobacco scent, somewhat surprised but saying nothing, sitting in the passenger seat.
“My mom just went out to see you, right? Whatever she said, don’t take it to heart. I was too willful yesterday, said a lot of childish things, and made things difficult for you.”
He couldn’t deny her perceptive intuition, yet couldn’t accept her using this method to free him from a difficult position: “Why did you suddenly change your mind?”
“I just don’t really accept her being with that man named Peter. As for going to America—” She shrugged. “I thought it through. Going anywhere really doesn’t matter.”
He still had countless questions but didn’t know where to start: “You don’t like that man.”
“No one would like the person who destroyed their parents’ marriage, right?” She tilted her head, thinking. “I’ve only met him a few times. He seems decent—very tall and burly, not much like a professor or scholar. He speaks English as simply as possible so I can understand, and he’s learned some Chinese. Just…”
“Just what?”
“My mom probably told him about me. The way he looks at me…” Zuo Si’an thought for a moment, smiling bitterly. “Full of sympathy. I find it somewhat unbearable. Seems like Mom and he no longer have secrets.”
“I’ve heard Americans respect others’ privacy quite a bit. As a scholar, he should understand maintaining distance.”
“Really?” Zuo Si’an smiled wryly. “Then I have nothing to worry about.”
“Xiao An, if he’s not good enough to you, remember to call me immediately.”
“Hey, don’t treat me like a child anymore.”
She couldn’t suppress the rising bitterness, saying lightly: “By the time you fly over to rescue me, it would be far too late. Don’t worry. I’m not so unlucky that at seventeen I’d still be Cinderella suffering abuse.”
Gao Xiang drove Zuo Si’an home. The two maintained silence the entire way. Arriving at her building, she turned back. Their gazes locked together. Gao Xiang said: “When you’re leaving, call me. I’ll come see you off.”
She shook her head: “No need. Goodbye.”
She entered the building entryway, maintaining an upright posture, quickly going upstairs and entering her home. She intended to return to her room, but thinking it over, still walked to the balcony to look down. The sunlight was bright and dazzling. Gao Xiang still stood downstairs, not having left.
So what? She returned to her room, spread-eagle on her bed, instinctively grabbing the small cloth bear by her pillow, looking at the ceiling. Tears still trickled down from the corners of her eyes.
Her heart felt hollow. Suddenly she remembered the cesarean section surgery she’d experienced: also lying flat like this, powerless over everything, numb, unable to feel pain at all, but clearly aware her body was being cut open by a sharp knife, some part connected to her flesh and blood being precisely severed and removed.
This association nearly made her collapse.
6
Once the decision was made, Zuo Si’an recovered a composure that both comforted Yu Jia and made her somewhat uneasy.
However, Yu Jia had no time for extra thought. After repeated communication with contacts abroad, she smoothly received an offer. But this was just the beginning. Handling procedures for going abroad was extremely complex. The required documents and materials were extraordinarily tedious, occupying all her energy.
Yu Jia explained these things to Zuo Si’an. Zuo Si’an seemed to half-listen, only concentrating when her mother mentioned needing Zuo Xuejun to provide written documentation consenting to her going to America with her mother: “Is this notarization absolutely necessary?”
“It’s required for the visa application. Besides, although your dad and I reached an agreement that you’d live with me, I can’t just take you away without a word. That wouldn’t be reasonable or proper either.”
Zuo Si’an thought—even though her father had fled to such a distant place, he still couldn’t escape bureaucratic torment. She wondered if producing such documentation would cause him the same dull pain she felt. Maybe not. Maybe like Gao Xiang, he felt this was better for her.
Yu Jia asked: “I’ll call him now. Do you want to be nearby and say a few words to him?”
“What could I say? No need.”
Zuo Si’an returned to her room. Besides attending school, she also had to go to English training classes. Yu Jia arranged a schedule for her, personally checking her English progress.
She didn’t know why, but she felt an indescribable fatigue, as if two years ago on the Tibetan plateau, sitting in the off-road vehicle driving on the road toward Shiquanhe Town. The oxygen was so thin that every breath felt incomplete. Apart from their companions’ vehicle ahead, no other vehicles came and went. The road pointed endlessly toward the horizon. The wilderness stretched vast without any signs of life. Everyone was simultaneously crushed by overwhelming physical and mental exhaustion, all unwilling to speak.
And now, only she alone was trapped in this feeling, unable to free herself, nowhere to seek help, making it especially lonely and unbearable.
At this moment, Yu Jia suddenly poked her head in to call her: “Xiao An, come take the phone.”
Without turning her head, she said irritably: “I already said I have nothing to say.”
“It’s not your dad. It’s a boy calling.”
She had to go answer. It turned out to be Xu Weiming. She hadn’t given him her number, so she was somewhat surprised.
“I’m across from your home now.”
“How do you know where I live?”
“If I want to know something, I’ll know.” He answered with some roguishness. “Zuo Si’an, come downstairs. I’ll take you to see a movie.”
“Then let’s go for a drive and eat lamb skewers.”
She hesitated, but then thought—why not?
“Wait a few minutes for me.”
Hanging up, she told Yu Jia: “I want to go out and play for a while. I’ll be back in two hours. Is that okay?”
“Who is he?”
“A boy in his second year at Huining High School.”
Yu Jia’s expression was thoughtful, but unexpectedly didn’t continue questioning, nodding: “Alright. Come back on time.”
Zuo Si’an went out to find Xu Weiming in a white T-shirt, skin tanned a healthy brown, pushing a bicycle, standing in front of a small shop across from her home: “Wow, you’re so punctual. You actually came down in just three minutes. You know, even if you’d made me wait thirty minutes, I’d definitely have waited.”
“What would be the point of that?”
“You don’t ask about the meaning of everything, do you? Sometimes meaningless things are what make us happy.”
She had to admit he had a point: “My family doesn’t have a bicycle. How about we just walk around?”
With his long legs, he straddled the bicycle, patting the back seat: “Get on. Taking passengers is no problem for me.”
Zuo Si’an hesitated a bit, but he was action-oriented, not giving her time to think. He started pedaling. She had no choice but to jump lightly onto the back seat.
Xu Weiming was tall with long legs, riding the bike extremely fast. He didn’t take main roads but wove through winding alleys, constantly ringing the bell, nimbly dodging pedestrians.
Summer had just arrived. The sun slanted westward. The temperature wasn’t high enough to be unbearable. The fresh breeze blew pleasantly against their faces.
“Know who else was waiting downstairs at your place just now?”
“Who?”
“That bookworm from your school who’s famously good at studying.”
Zuo Si’an hadn’t expected Liu Guanchao to come again. For a moment, she couldn’t speak.
“He got there before me, standing downstairs in a daze. Don’t know how long he’d been standing there. After I finished my call, I told him you’d be right down and asked if he wanted to come out and play. He glared at me like he wanted to beat me up.” Xu Weiming obviously found this amusing. “I was waiting for him to make a move, but he turned around and left. Really boring.”
“Don’t provoke him.”
“Hmph, I’m not interested in bothering with that kind of bookworm.”
After riding for nearly thirty minutes, they reached the riverside. Xu Weiming put down the bike. The two walked onto the riverbank. At this time, it still retained its natural appearance—undulating sandy beaches, waist-high reeds. After annual flooding, the willows planted on the embankment had been soaked into strange postures. The moored pontoon boats bore rust stains. They sat on the thick iron chains connecting the pontoon boats to iron anchors. The setting sun slowly sank. Glowing clouds reddened half the sky. Diesel-powered sand-dredging boats rumbled “thud-thud,” slowly passing before them. In the distance, on a flat stretch of sandy beach, crowds of people absorbed water. Laughter and conversation were carried over by the river wind, becoming soft and indistinct.
Xu Weiming suddenly vigorously shook the iron chain, then grabbed Zuo Si’an who nearly lost her balance and fell, smiling smugly. She said irritably: “Stop being so childish, okay?”
“You stop being so profound, okay?”
“I’m not profound, Xu Weiming. I’m just a dull, uninteresting person.”
“But I find you very interesting.”
“Is that the only reason you came looking for me?”
“It’s already been several days since vacation started. Why haven’t you come watch me play ball again?”
“Your fans could already form a cheerleading squad. Why do you need me to come watch?”
Xu Weiming sighed half-truthfully: “Sigh, this is my only way to attract you, and you’ve already gotten tired of it so fast. So heartbreaking.”
Zuo Si’an turned to look at him. He was tilting his head staring at her, eyes bright, handsome face bearing a trace of a smile. She also sighed: “Xu Weiming, if you keep putting yourself out there like this, you’ll captivate many girls.”
“But I can’t captivate you.”
“Hoping to catch them all in one net is a delusion. It’ll actually cost you points.”
Xu Weiming laughed heartily: “Know what earns you points, Zuo Si’an?”
“Nothing more than me not being captivated by you.”
He shook his head: “You see how shallow you think I am. Let me give you an answer with substance—because you look like you have a story.”
She paused, smiling bitterly: “I don’t even know what version the so-called stories about me have turned into, yet they attracted you.”
“No, I don’t mean those boring rumors. I mean the feeling you give me.”
She said gently and frankly: “Without those rumors, I’m just an introverted girl who doesn’t like talking. You wouldn’t have given me a second glance.”
Xu Weiming rubbed his nose: “Now that you put it that way, I’m somewhat uncertain too.”
“So there’s no need to imagine me as mysterious.”
“But you really are mysterious. That bookworm looks like he likes you to death. When it comes to devoted affection, I really can’t compete with him. And there’s that person who came to pick you up at the park last time—looks cultured and mature. Maybe I’m destined to be cannon fodder where you’re concerned.”
Zuo Si’an startled, then turned her head and laughed aloud: “Never thought I’d have this honor of being imagined as universally appealing by a universally appealing boy.”
Xu Weiming looked at her with a grin: “See, this is also valuable about you—you have a sense of humor and aren’t narcissistic at all.”
“With you saying that, it’s hard not to be narcissistic.”
Both couldn’t help laughing heartily together. Zuo Si’an hadn’t laughed out loud like this in a long time, but the pain in her heart quickly surged up, making her laughter gradually fill with bitterness. She raised her hand to cover her face, unwilling to speak for a long while.
When she calmed down, she found Xu Weiming looking at her thoughtfully: “You like that person, right?”
Even when her mother pressed her, she hadn’t confessed. This was her heart’s secret. She had no intention of confiding it to anyone. But at this moment, she was too tired to deny: “He doesn’t like me. He just feels a certain responsibility toward me. My liking probably makes him feel very awkward.”
“Then try to forget him. Don’t waste time on him.”
She had to admit this was very good advice, but it had no meaning for her. She could only smile bitterly: “At least currently I can’t do that, Xu Weiming. You see, I really am a very dull person. I’ve never captivated anyone and lack the ability to be carefree. You should be disappointed in me, right?”
“No, maybe you’ve just experienced emotions I haven’t been able to experience yet. I still like you.”
He gently rocked the iron chain, making them swing back and forth in small motions. “No need to worry about me anymore. Everyone just needs to trust their own feelings. If one day I feel there’s just no way to make you like me, I’ll give up.”
Zuo Si’an thought—a slight impression left in a fun-loving boy’s eyes, silly words spoken while sitting idly by the river at dusk in early summer at seventeen or eighteen—where was that worth serious discussion? She said nothing more. At this moment, the ferry in the distance sounded a long steam whistle. They simultaneously looked toward the vast river surface. The setting sun’s afterglow grew increasingly rich and gorgeous, dyeing the turbid yellow river surface into dancing, uncertain gold.
“Really beautiful. Whether or not you’re my girlfriend, in the future you’ll remember sitting by the river with me watching the sunset.”
She couldn’t help saying: “I’ve seen more beautiful sunsets, in Ali, Tibet.”
He glared at her disapprovingly: “The sunset isn’t the point, okay?”
Of course—who you’re with is the point.
Zuo Si’an clearly remembered every moment with Gao Xiang. She also remembered when she said she wanted to continue being with him, he stepped back several paces, expression conflicted, saying: “You don’t know what being together means.”
Being together—she thought, could there be different interpretations for such simple three words?
River wind carrying a slight fishy smell blew toward them. Waves rose and fell, lapping the mud and sand at the shore. The river water flowed vastly and ceaselessly toward the distance, ultimately joining the sea. Amid chaotic thoughts, an idea surfaced: they couldn’t be together anymore. She would go to the distant foreign country on the other side of the Earth. Would she eventually forget him? Would those vivid feelings remaining in her mind be carried away by time like river water, never to be retrieved again?