Zuo Si’an had been on continuous duty at the hospital for two days and one night.

This was her third year as a neurosurgery resident. Every four days, she had a 24-hour overnight shift. She would rush to the hospital at 5 AM, hurry to finish reviewing medical records while listening to reports from the interns and third and fourth-year medical students under her supervision. At 7 AM there was a morning meeting to discuss patient handovers with the incoming resident. By 8 AM she officially took over, doing rounds while lecturing the interns and medical students. Then she stayed busy until 8 AM the next morning—admitting patients from outpatient and emergency departments, participating in consultations, doing rounds with attending physicians, researching patient treatment plans. In between she could only grab quick naps. When a patient arrived or her pager sounded, she had to jump up immediately.

This day there were many patients. Another neurosurgery resident was sick, so Zuo Si’an worked non-stop until 8 PM before finally handing patients over to the next shift resident and leaving the hospital. She was already completely exhausted, sustained only by coffee. Driving home, she felt somewhat drowsy the entire way.

Her residence in Baltimore was one unit in a row of two-story townhouses. She parked and got out, suddenly noticing someone sitting on the steps in front of her door. She immediately stopped alertly. Baltimore’s public security wasn’t very good—people who lived here long-term maintained basic vigilance. She was about to retreat back to her car when the person stood up: “Xiao An, it’s me.”

Hearing Chinese so suddenly, and a familiar voice at that, she felt momentarily dazed, thinking the excessive caffeine in her system was playing tricks. But the person had already walked into the light—it was Gao Xiang.

“How can you be here?”

He looked her over and asked instead: “Do you always work overtime like this?”

“Residents are famously in a state of year-round overtime work—there’s no helping it. How long have you been waiting here?”

Gao Xiang raised his wrist to check his watch: “I arrived this afternoon, went around the city once, then came here. About two hours, I’d say.”

“Next time absolutely don’t wait for people outside like this. Either sit in your car—the security in this area isn’t very good.”

“You live in a place with poor security without concern, yet you’re telling me to be careful.”

“The rent here is cheap. Residents’ salaries really aren’t high. Let’s go inside to talk.”

Gao Xiang followed Zuo Si’an in. She casually put down her bag: “Please sit.”

Gao Xiang looked around. This was a house that looked old but was maintained fairly well. The space wasn’t large. The first floor had a living room that also served as a sitting room, with oak flooring, a comfortable dark coffee-colored sofa and a rocking chair. A wooden staircase led to the second floor. On the other side was a spacious kitchen that looked very clean.

“You live alone?”

“There are two bedrooms upstairs. I originally shared the rent with another radiology resident. She became a specialist doctor this year and went to a hospital in Los Angeles. I haven’t had time to find someone else to share rent yet. Have you had dinner?”

He shook his head. She went into the kitchen. He followed in, watching her look at the open refrigerator with an air of helplessness. He couldn’t help but laugh: “I thought I could at least have dinner you made.”

“There’s only milk, drinks, fruit, and canned soup inside—not enough ingredients to make a meal. Besides, my cooking skills are really quite limited. Better to call for takeout. What do you want to eat: pizza, Thai food, or Chinese food?”

“Not interested in any of them. But since you put pizza first, let’s go with that.”

Zuo Si’an breathed a sigh of relief and immediately picked up the phone to order pizza. Putting down the phone, she saw Gao Xiang surveying the overly spotless kitchen. She had to explain: “Normally I eat all three meals at the hospital. I don’t have much time to cook. What would you like to drink?”

“What are my choices?”

She looked around without confidence: “Coffee, milk, black tea, juice, and water.”

“Coffee then.”

She made him coffee: “Sit wherever you like. If the pizza arrives, could you please get it? I’ve left money on the table. I’ve already been at the hospital for nearly 40 hours—I must take a shower.”

The hospital had changing rooms and bathrooms, but Zuo Si’an generally insisted on showering at home. She went upstairs into the bathroom. Normally she would take a bath, immersing her exhausted, aching body to slowly relax, but today with Gao Xiang downstairs, she had to choose a shower instead. After quickly washing and blow-drying her hair, she put on the T-shirt and long pants she habitually wore at home and went downstairs.

Gao Xiang sat on the living room sofa flipping through a magazine, saying leisurely: “This house has a very strong medical atmosphere. The kitchen is as clean as if it’s never been used, all the magazines are medical, but I don’t see any trace of a fiancé’s existence.”

She froze and couldn’t help but smile bitterly: “You think I invented a fiancé?”

“If it’s convenient, introduce us. Maybe this time I can free myself and completely stop worrying about you.”

Zuo Si’an was speechless, momentarily unsure what to say. After an awkward silence, the doorbell rang. She took the money and went to open the door, but standing outside wasn’t the usual big boy who delivered pizza in this area—it was a man in a suit and tie: her former fiancé Fred.

She was quite surprised: “Why didn’t you call first?”

Fred was 32 years old this year, tall with thick brown hair and gray eyes—very handsome. He sighed: “Ann, you never returned any of my messages.”

“I’m sorry. After I came back from vacation, I had so much accumulated work. I went to work without even adjusting to the time difference. I’ve been too busy and haven’t had time to listen to messages one by one. What’s the matter?”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Zuo Si’an introduced Gao Xiang and Fred to each other. She only gave their names simply. Both men shook hands, their expressions somewhat awkward. Fred obviously hadn’t expected her to have a visitor at this hour, and Gao Xiang certainly hadn’t thought that just after making one sarcastic remark, a man would actually show up ringing her doorbell.

The indoor atmosphere was momentarily slightly embarrassing. Just then the doorbell rang again. Zuo Si’an went to open the door—the pizza had finally arrived. She paid, took the box back to the living room, and asked Fred: “Want to eat together?”

Fred shook his head. Gao Xiang stood up: “I have something to do, I’ll leave first.”

Before Zuo Si’an could say anything, he walked straight out the door.

Fred shrugged: “Looks like I’ve arrived at the wrong time again.”

His “wrong time” generally specifically referred to when Zuo Si’an was physically and mentally exhausted after consecutive shifts at the hospital, not wanting to date but only wanting to come home and collapse into sleep. But now it obviously had a double meaning with other implications. She smiled wryly: “It’s nothing.”

“You usually work overtime—why did you take such a long vacation this time?”

“I just hadn’t been back to see in too long. Did you come to get your things? I’ve sorted everything out—they’re in that cabinet below.”

“Ann, I kept calling you and drove an hour from Washington. Of course it’s not to retrieve two sets of clothes and a few books. I miss you very much.”

Zuo Si’an paused, then said gently: “Fred, I’m touched. It feels good to be missed by an ex-boyfriend. Thank you.”

Fred looked at her carefully and shook his head: “You heartless woman, you’re not touched at all—you just feel awkward. I can never fall in love with a doctor again.”

“I’m not as cold-blooded as you think. Fred, your proposal to me was the most romantic moment I’ve experienced in recent years. I’ll never forget it.”

Mentioning that proposal, both smiled while feeling somewhat sad.

From the time she started university, Zuo Si’an had lived a puritan lifestyle. Besides her major, she also took pre-med courses. After graduating from university, she entered Johns Hopkins University Medical School with excellent grades and threw herself even deeper into studying. Four years later when she graduated from medical school and began her residency, she was already 27 years old. Even Yu Jia, who had always approved of her having pursuits and focusing on her career, began reminding her not to neglect personal matters.

Many of her classmates had done other work after graduating from college before determining their ambition to study medicine. Some even had doctoral degrees in other specialties and were much older than her. Residents faced different problems: some were married, struggling to squeeze out time to maintain their marriages while supporting families on modest salaries; some were seriously dating but frequently fell into relationship crises because they had no time to maintain the romance; others chose to date and de-stress in an adult way—which was a euphemistic way of saying quickly going to bed after brief dates.

Her problem was that she wasn’t prepared to start a serious relationship, and she had no physical restlessness that needed soothing through a non-serious relationship.

Since she studied medicine, she naturally understood clearly that her choice to study medicine, and then to choose the most arduous and lengthy specialty of neurosurgery, was actually using it as an opportunity to suppress and avoid personal emotional needs, filling all lonely times with long-term professional training. This psychological state wasn’t normal.

At the end of her first year as a hospital resident, she met Fred in the outpatient clinic when he came to see a doctor. He began pursuing her, but she didn’t agree to date him, and he retreated with difficulty.

In her second year of residency, work difficulty increased further. The neurosurgery director suddenly asked to talk to her, straightforwardly reminding her that he appreciated her effort and focus, but she was stretched too tight, demanded too much of herself, which would hinder her going further on this path.

She didn’t truly understand this advice at the time until one exhausted, lonely night when she woke from a nightmare again, thought of Gao Xiang, and broke into sobs. At the same time she clearly realized that if she didn’t adjust her state, she couldn’t survive such high-intensity professional training.

She stopped continuously working overtime, consciously made friends, participated in colleagues’ leisure activities after work. During rare rest times, she went to walk by the Inner Harbor. She encountered Fred again. This time their conversation was very relaxed, and he asked her out again.

By age 29, even if she dismissed her mother’s talk about “personal matters,” she felt it was time to try having a romantic life. She hesitantly accepted dates. He was a lawyer—as busy a profession as being a doctor. Facing her hesitation and uncertainty, he showed great patience and gentleness. She was finally moved.

They had only been officially together for three months when he got a job opportunity in Washington. They lived in separate cities. Although the two cities were only an hour’s drive apart, for two people with equally demanding work, this distance was enough to make their already infrequent dates even harder to arrange. After more than a month without seeing each other, she just thought wistfully that such a fizzling-out breakup could be considered letting a relationship die a natural death.

But she never expected he would suddenly come to the hospital to propose to her.

At the time she had also been on continuous duty. She walked out of the operating room exhausted and was surprised to see him appear, take out a ring, and half-kneel: “Will you marry me, darling?”

She had never imagined herself in such a dramatic scene. She froze in place, completely unsure how to react. Her confusion was taken as excessive surprise. In an almost bewildered state, the ring was slipped on her finger. But looking at his affectionate face, her heart suddenly softened. Without realizing it, she nodded and threw herself into his embrace.

Such a romantic scene immediately made the doctors, nurses, and patients present all break into applause.

This proposal rescued their precarious relationship, but only temporarily.

Relationships needed effort to maintain. Distance and time remained problems.

More importantly, Zuo Si’an was completely uncertain she had any idea of getting married at this time. Becoming a professional neurosurgeon was very difficult and lengthy. She still had four years to complete all required residency training. Then she planned to apply to do two years of specialized research work at a prestigious university’s affiliated hospital, determine her main focus in the neurosurgery field, then pass the specialty examination to become a specialist doctor.

Having a steady dating partner, she privately thought, was beneficial to body and mind. But when it came to marriage, too many issues were involved. Her hesitation couldn’t be hidden from Fred. In just over two months, they had already had several arguments, completely unlike their harmony before the engagement.

When discussing future plans, the two couldn’t reach agreement at all. Fred sharply pointed out that even though he had decided to propose and she had agreed, she still hadn’t planned him into her life. She had to admit he was right—the life he wanted to live, she couldn’t cooperate with for quite a long time. Fred was extremely hurt and left in fury.

A few days later, she called his apartment phone, prepared to reconcile with him, but a woman answered. She froze, said she had the wrong number, and hung up, not intending to demand an explanation. When he called, she said: “Maybe we should break off our engagement.”

He was silent for a long while, agreed to break up, and said to her with great melancholy as a final sentence: “I love you, but I always feel you keep a certain distance from me.”

Thinking of the past, Zuo Si’an forced a smile: “Fred, I’m very sorry.”

“The person who should apologize is me. I just found out when we were arguing that there were problems with my work simulation—first suspension, then vacation.”

“The suspension has been resolved. It has nothing to do with you, Fred.”

“I wanted to come apologize to you about that woman who answered the phone at my apartment that day…”

“No, no need to explain.”

He darkened: “You never loved me at all, did you?”

“No, Fred, we just met at the wrong time. My life is too tense, my free time too little. I simply don’t have the ability to settle down and seriously manage a relationship. But I couldn’t bear to refuse your proposal and rashly agreed. That was too unfair to you.”

He softened, looking at her with melancholy: “Ann, I’ll always remember the first time you gazed deeply into my eyes.”

She hesitated, then smiled bitterly: “I’m sorry. Someone said I explain everything with medical habits—very boring. But I have to say, when neurosurgeons examine patients’ pupils, they all gaze face-to-face like that.”

Fred froze, then couldn’t help laughing heartily: “I love your seriousness, Ann. And I was serious about you.”

“I never doubted that. Thank you for everything you gave me.”

“Can’t we salvage this?”

“We both know the decision to break off the engagement was correct.”

Fred also smiled bitterly: “I knew you’d say that, but I still couldn’t help wanting to come see you. Alright, I’ll leave now.”

He took his belongings and left. The house returned to quiet. Zuo Si’an looked at the pizza box—she had no appetite at all. But she really had no sleepiness either. She could only sit on the sofa and start reading the new issue of a professional journal, trying to hypnotize herself.

She had just gotten a bit sleepy when the doorbell was pressed again. She went to open the door—Gao Xiang stood at the entrance.

Her anger immediately rose: “I have to be at work at 5 AM tomorrow morning. Do I need to keep him overnight to prove I didn’t fabricate a fiancé?”

“I’m sorry. I was crazed with jealousy and lost my composure just now. Forgive me.”

This frank admission made her unable to get angry anymore. She silently stepped aside to let him in.

“If you need me to explain to him…”

She shook her head wearily: “No need. I didn’t fabricate a fiancé, but he’s actually my former fiancé. Before I returned to China this time, we had already broken off our engagement and broken up. I’m tired and don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Zuo Si’an arranged for Gao Xiang to rest in the other bedroom upstairs. The next day she got up as usual at 4:30 AM and went to work at 5. Thirteen hours later she got off work and returned home. Entering, she saw Gao Xiang was cooking in the kitchen. He had rolled up his shirt sleeves and was focusing intently on tossing crabs into the pot.

“You’re back at just the right time. Dinner will be ready in ten more minutes.”

Zuo Si’an was dumbfounded, full of doubts she couldn’t express. She could only say: “I’ll go shower first.”

By the time she changed into her T-shirt and knit pants and came down, Gao Xiang had already arranged the dishes and poured the wine.

“I went shopping for groceries and learned that like the lobster from Portland where you used to live, Baltimore produces lots of crabs—the price is ridiculously cheap.”

“You… went grocery shopping?”

“Yes, and bought wine. This California-produced white wine is pretty good. I can report in advance that my cooking skills are passable too.”

“Gao Xiang, even if I broke up with my fiancé, it doesn’t mean I need you taking care of me like this.”

“I know.”

“I’m living very well, very fulfilled.”

“I have no doubt about that—no need to emphasize it. Sit down and eat. Crab isn’t good when it gets cold.”

Zuo Si’an had no choice but to sit across from him.

Besides crab, dinner included a seafood soup and a vegetable salad—quite sumptuous compared to the various takeout she usually ordered at home, and the taste was very good. But her heart was restless and uneasy, making the food somewhat tasteless.

After the meal she cleared the dishes. Opening the refrigerator door, she saw it had already been stuffed full of various ingredients. She couldn’t help groaning.

“What’s wrong?”

“I told you I have no time to cook at all. All of this will go to waste.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cook.”

She couldn’t hold back anymore. She turned to look at him: “Gao Xiang, how long do you plan to stay in Baltimore?”

“Currently uncertain.”

“You staying at my place… isn’t very convenient.”

“I don’t see what’s inconvenient. You need a roommate anyway. I can share the rent with you.”

“You don’t need to repeatedly emphasize this point. I can see it. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb you.”

She smiled bitterly: “But only residents would choose to share rent. Other people can’t accept our schedule. I get up at 4:30 almost every morning and leave at 5. Sometimes I get paged in the middle of the night and have to rush to the hospital—I’ll disturb you.”

“This is absolutely not a problem. You can be at ease about that too.”

Gao Xiang settled in without ceremony and indeed, as he claimed, didn’t interfere with her at all or be disturbed by her.

The next day, Zuo Si’an hurried downstairs and discovered he was already up, sitting in the kitchen in front of his laptop having a video conference with people in China to handle work. He still managed to step away immediately to hand her a cup of hot coffee, say “drive carefully,” then continue his call.

He seemed to master her work schedule and shift arrangements effortlessly. Having dinner ready just when she got off work already made her uneasy. Four days later, when she returned from another overnight shift, she actually discovered he had drawn her bath water. She was immediately both shocked and dismayed.

The feeling of having private space invaded was very subtle. More importantly, he looked like he had naturally moved into her life as a matter of course. She thought her hope that he would just look around and leave seemed somewhat wishful. Although Gao Xiang effortlessly deflected her various questions, making her almost unsure how to talk to him, letting him stay on like this ambiguously would inevitably become impossible to resolve.

Coming out of the shower, Zuo Si’an went downstairs into the kitchen. She saw Gao Xiang was making soup. Amid the rising steam, food gave off an enticing aroma that made her suddenly forget what she had prepared to say. She looked at him. His face seemed somewhat uncertain. For a moment she felt dazed.

“Radish beef brisket soup—ready soon.”

She came back to her senses and asked him: “When are you returning to China?”

“Day after tomorrow I’m flying to the West Coast to discuss some business. If things go smoothly I’ll be back in two days. No plans to return to China in the short term.”

She was helpless: “If you want to live in America long-term, you’d better find another place.”

“Unless you’re willing to move with me. I don’t approve of you living here either—the house is too small, the space too low. More importantly, it’s not safe enough.”

“Gao Xiang, I don’t plan to change my life.”

He said nonchalantly: “No problem. Making do and continuing to live here is fine, but that window on the second floor needs repairing.”

After a silence, she asked: “What is this?”

“Sharing rent. Or cohabiting—it all depends on which direction you’re willing to let our relationship develop.”

“Our relationship ended eleven years ago. I’m very sorry I disturbed your life by returning to China and spoke rashly in an emotional state. I’m willing to apologize…”

“Then promise once again never to see me?” He smiled lightly. “Making such a promise now is probably much easier than eleven years ago.”

Zuo Si’an froze. After quite a while she said with difficulty: “I don’t know how you see my life now. Yes, my work is exhausting, my professional training is still arduous and long, my relationship just failed, but I really don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“So you still insist on thinking I want to be with you in order to take care of you?”

She fell silent.

“I don’t have an addiction to taking care of people. At the same time, I also don’t have a preference for girls who never grow up.”

She stared at him blankly. Gao Xiang appreciated her expression and said bluntly: “Dr. Zuo, allow me to remind you—at your age, it’s really not suitable for you to stare with wide eyes and open mouth acting like a little girl.”

Zuo Si’an snapped her mouth shut and hurried out of the kitchen.

Gao Xiang went upstairs and knocked on Zuo Si’an’s bedroom door: “Come down to eat.”

“I don’t want to eat.”

He pushed open the door and entered. He saw Zuo Si’an was half-lying on the bed in a daze. He said mockingly: “Throwing a tantrum like this makes you look even more like a child sulking.”

She sat up listlessly, hugging her knees: “Gao Xiang, if you’re angry about what I said back then, I’m willing to apologize.”

Gao Xiang looked at her expressionlessly: “You keep saying you’re willing to apologize now. I really want to know—do you actually feel sorry, or do you think this is the most convenient way to resolve problems?”

She smiled bitterly: “Apologizing is indeed one of doctors’ required courses. Even if you haven’t done anything wrong, you still have to express regret to patients and their families for their losses. Gao Xiang, we’re both adults. Even if you’re angry at me, it’s in the past. Don’t waste time punishing me.”

“I am indeed angry, but definitely not angry at you in the way you imagine. That sentence you said back then made me furious to the point of losing reason precisely because you hit upon a part of the truth I was unwilling to face: I did indeed start liking you when you were still a little girl.”

Zuo Si’an froze again, staring at him blankly.

“If I hadn’t been striving to avoid the taboo, too intent on maintaining that state where you could trust me unconditionally, too intent on making my feelings for you seem beyond reproach, I shouldn’t have failed to see why you said that sentence.”

Zuo Si’an wearily rested her chin on her knees: “That’s all in the past.”

Gao Xiang walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up the somewhat worn stuffed bear by her pillow and examined it, then reached out to brush aside her half-dry hair to look at the tattoo on the back of her neck: “Strive to be happy—why did you tattoo this line of poetry on your body?”

She closed her eyes and didn’t answer.

“For me, nothing has passed. So I came and decided to stay.”

In the silence, Gao Xiang’s fingers gently brushed over Zuo Si’an’s tattoo, then he bent down. His lips pressed against it, lightly kissing each letter. His breath blew through the fine soft hair at the back of her neck, once and again, in an imperceptible rhythm like a gentle tide slowly rising. She immediately stiffened, hearing her own heartbeat suddenly fierce and violent—no less than being in a high-altitude area. At the same time her blood seemed to be rapidly draining away. Her whole body felt waves of cold, causing her to tremble.

Without realizing it, he pulled her up to face him. His lips moved from her neck to her ear, taking her earlobe in his mouth. She immediately went weak all over. When he began kissing her lips, she discovered once again that she was like that time at age 17 when he kissed her in the metasequoia grove in Zhongshan Park—caught in tinnitus and dizziness, dry mouth and tongue, simply unable to resist.

He lifted her T-shirt and caressed her body. Compared to the excessive thinness of girlhood, she now had mature, soft curves, skin moist and lustrous, presenting herself before him like water. He kissed his way down, hearing her uncontrollably emit low gasps. Her hands that had been braced on his shoulders hesitantly turned into caresses.

Just then, the pager on Zuo Si’an’s nightstand suddenly let out a sharp beep. Both were startled simultaneously. She had a moment of confusion, looking up at Gao Xiang above her, then suddenly came fully awake. She pushed him away and grabbed the pager. Looking at it, she immediately rolled off the bed: “There’s an emergency. I must return to the hospital immediately.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Zuo Si’an had no time to say anything. She grabbed her car keys and hurried downstairs and out the door.

Arriving at the hospital, Zuo Si’an rushed inside. The duty nurse told her there had been a chain car accident on the outskirts of Baltimore. A tour bus had hit a guardrail and overturned, causing two passengers to die on the spot. Including the driver, over 40 people were injured, many seriously.

Gao Xiang stayed in the waiting area outside. He had been in and out of hospitals many times, but this was the first time he had watched doctors admit emergency patients at such close range. Injured people were continuously brought in. Off-duty doctors like Zuo Si’an, wearing various casual clothes, rushed to the hospital from outside to participate in emergency triage.

Zuo Si’an entered the operating room and didn’t come out until seven hours later. Then she continued treating other patients, giving nurses instructions on care considerations. When Gao Xiang bought coffee and returned, he couldn’t find her anywhere. A nurse noticed and directed him to where she and other doctors usually napped.

He walked over and saw it was a room where sterilized sheets and work clothes were washed. Two doctors were lying on one side, already asleep, but Zuo Si’an wasn’t sleeping. She was holding a dejected-looking girl while saying something.

She saw Gao Xiang and gave a slight signal. He stopped. He saw under the light her face was full of weariness. She had clearly exhausted all her physical strength, yet still stood straight, as if afraid that if she slackened even a bit, she would no longer have the strength to hold on.

After a while, she came out, her expression somewhat frozen.

“A patient died as soon as he was pushed into the operating room. Very young—only 20 years old. This girl is only in her third year of medical school, just starting her internship. Seeing someone her age die before her eyes was very shocking.”

He put his arm around her shoulder. She shook her head: “I’m fine. After all, it’s not the first time I’ve faced death.”

That’s what she said, but all the way until she changed clothes and went home, Zuo Si’an remained silent. She dragged her steps upstairs. Halfway up, she suddenly stopped, leaning on the staircase railing and looking back at Gao Xiang: “This is my life, Gao Xiang. I have to be at the hospital at least 12 hours every day. Any time I get paged, I must rush over at the fastest speed. I can’t spare time and energy for you. If you stay, nothing can change.”

Gao Xiang looked at her quietly: “You’re too tired. Go sleep. Don’t rush to conclusions.”

In the following time, Zuo Si’an consciously avoided Gao Xiang, even trying not to come home to eat. After returning home, she would immediately shut herself in her bedroom and not come out again. Gao Xiang didn’t press too hard, making meals matter-of-factly. Seeing she refused to eat dinner, he actually made a bento box and handed it to her before she left early in the morning, telling her to take it to the hospital for lunch. She had an expression of near collapse but couldn’t say anything. She could only take it in defeat and hurry out.

That evening she came home very late. After getting out of the car, she was surprised to see Gao Xiang about to take out his key to open the door. He was dressed in athletic wear with a towel draped over his shoulder, wiping sweat.

She was shocked and hurried to grab his arm: “You went running?”

He nodded: “Yes.”

“Never go running at night. I told you the security in this area isn’t very good. Two blocks over it’s even worse—lots of houses are already vacant and occupied by vagrants. Running there is dangerous.”

He said impassively: “But you still insist on living here?”

“I’ve lived here three years. As long as you’re careful, nothing will happen.”

“Then you don’t need to worry about me either.”

She grabbed him and wouldn’t let go: “No, what if something happens?”

“Would you be sad or relieved?”

She froze, let go of his hand, took out her key to open the door, and went straight in, preparing to go directly upstairs. Gao Xiang grabbed her: “I was just joking.”

“I really don’t have much sense of humor now, Gao Xiang. Please don’t have anything happen to you here, otherwise I’ll never be free of it.”

The pain in her eyes shocked him somewhat. He held her: “I’m sorry. I’ll be careful. From now on I’ll drive to the gym to exercise.”

Gao Xiang had the body of a man who maintained long-term healthy exercise habits—solid and powerful. At this moment, emanating heat from running, carrying a slight scent of sweat, he surrounded her, bringing a remotely familiar feeling, triggering some information stored deep in memory. For a moment she felt somewhat confused. When he kissed toward her, she suddenly realized, panicked and retreated backward. Her back against the door with nowhere else to go, his kiss deepened. She had difficulty breathing, her body going weak. The feeling of being about to melt enveloped her—both sweet and fear-inducing.

She struggled to push him away a bit, panting: “No, please… don’t do this.”

He said enticingly: “You clearly want me.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders, creating space between them, trying to calm herself down. She spoke slowly and clearly: “Yes, I want you. I don’t mind admitting that. I’m not that girl who feared sex anymore, Gao Xiang. When tired to a certain degree, making love with a man is the best relaxation. But not with you.”

Gao Xiang froze, let her go. The desire in his eyes receded, returning to clarity. He looked at her thoughtfully, then smiled: “Saying that is enough to kill my mood, but it can’t drive me away, Xiao An.”

She felt defeated. After listening for a while, she said pleadingly: “What exactly do you want?”

“What I want is you.”

She couldn’t speak for a moment, staring at him blankly. After quite a while, she said wearily: “We need to have a good talk.”

“I completely agree.”

“Not now—tomorrow. I have tomorrow off. I’ll take you out. Where do you want to go?”

Hearing her proactive invitation, Gao Xiang was somewhat surprised: “I’ve already been around this city quite a bit. You don’t need to treat me like a tourist. How do you usually arrange this day?”

“Turn off the alarm, sleep until I naturally wake up. If the weather’s good, go walk by the Inner Harbor, drink coffee, buy bread to feed the seagulls, then find a restaurant to eat.”

“Then let’s do it that way.”

Baltimore’s Inner Harbor compared to eleven years ago had no changes—still a place where tourists gathered.

Gao Xiang and Zuo Si’an sat on a bench by the harbor drinking coffee. The sea breeze blew gently. In front of them on the water, yachts and sailboats came and went endlessly. Not far away stood that 27-story pentagonal building with the same name as New York’s former World Trade Center.

Zuo Si’an told Gao Xiang that many people felt this building, though designed by renowned architect I.M. Pei, still looked very ugly. Gao Xiang glanced at it objectively: “Can’t say it’s ugly, but it indeed has no special features. Do you still feel this place resembles Hanjiang?”

She shook her head: “After going back this time, I’m actually uncertain what Hanjiang looks like. Gao Xiang, we already have our respective lives, have jobs. You also have a family that needs care. You shouldn’t stay here long-term.”

“Speaking of family, I plan to bring my son to America next year to attend high school.”

Zuo Si’an was so frightened her expression changed completely. She blurted out: “Absolutely don’t come to Baltimore.”

Gao Xiang suppressed a laugh and said leisurely: “Baltimore’s security isn’t good enough, and he also doesn’t like eating crab. I solicited his opinion—he actually retains a bit of memory of New York and is willing to go to school there.”

She didn’t feel reassured and asked urgently: “Then what about you? You’ll move to New York too, right?”

“He’s going to boarding school and doesn’t need me with him. I’ll stay in Baltimore.”

“Gao Xiang, if you insist on staying here, how will you explain your whereabouts to him?”

“He’s old enough—he won’t be naive enough to think my emotional world should be a complete blank. If I tell him the reason I’m staying in this city, he can completely understand.”

She glared at him in exasperation: “Your parents won’t agree to you doing this.”

“I haven’t needed anyone’s permission for a long time. You’re not still under your mother’s supervision, are you?”

She opened her mouth, momentarily unable to speak. But she remembered he had mocked this expression of hers as trying to act young. She could only take a deep breath as if before entering an operating room, letting herself calm down, using as peaceful and reasonable a tone as possible: “But he’s never known of my existence. I know very clearly what the consequences will be if a 15-year-old child’s world is suddenly overturned. You can’t do this.”

“Do you remember Liu Yaqin’s extortion of my mother?”

“Didn’t it fail?”

“Even if Liu Yaqin didn’t succeed, Xiao Fei’s background isn’t an absolute secret. I don’t want him to learn about this from someone else’s mouth, so I’ll choose an appropriate time to talk with him.”

She jumped up: “No, no, no, absolutely not.”

“Trust me, I know how to communicate with my son.”

“No, you can’t tell him about… the relationship between me and him. I told you, I never plan to appear in his life, no matter in what way.”

“I’ll respect your thoughts and won’t force you.”

“Gao Xiang, doing this will only mess up everyone’s lives. What’s the point? Please don’t do this. Leave here.”

Gao Xiang pulled her to sit down: “You’ve put up with me for many days. Might as well endure a bit more. Don’t be in such a hurry to drive me away. First tell me about your life these years.”

Zuo Si’an felt restless, unsure where to start. She hesitated: “I told you—after graduating from college I went to medical school, then became a resident…”

“Why did you go to Finland that Christmas after leaving New York?”

She completely hadn’t expected him to ask this question and couldn’t quite process it: “How did you know I went to Finland?”

“I went to Portland to find you. Your mother told me you went to Finland to travel.”

She was extremely surprised and murmured: “My mom didn’t tell me you came.”

“You got rid of me—she was too happy to be thrilled. She only said you had already transferred schools and didn’t want to be disturbed anymore.” Gao Xiang smiled bitterly. “She wouldn’t even tell me which school you transferred to, of course she wouldn’t mention to you that I went.”

Zuo Si’an was speechless.

“Alright, tell me, why choose to go to Finland in winter? If you wanted to see ice and snow, Portland was enough.”

“I just… didn’t want to stay in Portland for Christmas. But the world is so big—I couldn’t just randomly point at a map and go wherever I pointed. I happened to hear a mother telling her child about where Santa Claus lives. I heard the place name Lapland and decided to go see Lapland.”

“Lapland?” He frowned. “You wanted to see Santa Claus packing gifts with your own eyes?”

“When living in Liu Wan back then, the TV station was showing an old cartoon called ‘The Wonderful Adventures of Nils.’ Jingjing went to a neighbor’s house to watch every day. After coming back, she would discuss it with me. I had watched it when I was very young and didn’t have a deep impression originally. What Jingjing talked about most was the place Nils and his goose named Morten flew to with the wild geese: Lapland. Jingjing thought it was the most beautiful place name she’d heard—the syllables sounded melodious when spoken, both distant and magnificent. She loved to repeat like the characters in the cartoon: ‘Go to Lapland, go to Lapland,’ and made up many stories about little girls traveling to Lapland.”

“So you really went to that place and sent Jingjing that postcard?”

“For Jingjing, Lapland was another world beyond the countryside. For me, Lapland was the place where Nils could become a normal child again and return home. My father had just sold the apartment in Hanjiang and sent me all the money. You had once told me you would give me a home, but I had broken up with you. A person with no home to return to deciding to go to Lapland for this reason—isn’t that ridiculous?”

“Not more ridiculous than the Christmas vacation I spent after returning to New York. I kept hanging around various bars with friends, drinking until completely drunk, fighting and causing trouble, getting arrested at the police station and spending a night locked up with a bunch of addicts and pimps—definitely an unpleasant experience.” Zuo Si’an stared at him. He smiled. “Scared?”

Her heart churned. She couldn’t speak.

“How about I tell you about my life these years?”

“After you left New York, I sent my mother and son back to China, then wandered around New York alone for a long time. After 9/11, that city’s atmosphere was very tense—not a suitable place to idle around doing nothing. But I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. During that time, I lived very absurdly and decadently. Fortunately that friend stayed with me. After four-plus months of messing around, my father came over and dragged me back to China. At the time I didn’t know that he had actually already been to New York once before and had seen you.”

Zuo Si’an remained silent.

“After going back, I assisted my father and started doing a bit of small business according to my original plan—first red wine distribution, later venture capital partnership with friends. Oh, and I bought a money-losing coffee shop, planning to keep operating it that way.”

Gao Xiang took a sip of coffee and continued: “As for relationships, I haven’t been engaged, but I’ve dated more than one girlfriend. I would tell them clearly that I have no interest in marriage and family and don’t want more children, but I could compensate them in other ways. You see, I’ve thoroughly become a vulgar middle-aged man. I guess that’s what would really scare you?”

She looked somewhat uneasy and said quietly: “Actually you don’t need to tell me this.”

“Yes, nothing worth mentioning—really nothing to say. I just really wanted to know how you’ve been living these years. But when I look back to summarize my own life, it’s just that I’ve experienced many things, been to many places, met many people—such simple, plain sentences can finish it. How can I expect you to tell me more?”

“Gao Xiang, eleven years is enough to change everything. I can only tell you I’m not who I used to be.”

“I know you’re not 14, not 16 or 19. You’re 30 this year. You’ve grown and matured, become a doctor, seen life and death routinely. You have stable hands that can operate on people. You’ve even become less highly sensitive to others’ emotions and thoughts like before. But you’re still you.”

“No, it’s not as simple as you think.”

“Let me finish. I asked my father what exactly he said to you back then that could make you leave so resolutely. He told me he merely made you feel that only by sacrificing yourself for me could you fulfill me. But the days together with you were the most engaged, most real life I’ve experienced. Your leaving didn’t fulfill me. I don’t need that kind of sacrifice.”

Zuo Si’an shook her head painfully: “I must be honest with you—I’m not as noble as you think. Ultimately, I was actually a coward. I was afraid of many things. I feared memories haunting me. I feared I wasn’t worthy of everything you did for me. I feared your feelings for me were only pity. I feared I couldn’t give you a happy life. I feared facing your family, and even more feared your possible regret…”

He gripped her hand, not letting her continue: “You were already very brave. The problem was with me. I didn’t give you much information. I hesitated too long before going to America to find you. Even when together with you, I avoided many things. This was my fault.”

“What’s the point of us digging up old matters like this? Go back to China. Let go of everything from the past. Find a woman worthy of your love, love her well, live well.”

“That’s good advice. But we both seem to have already tried. I almost wanted to marry Xiaoyan. You also tried getting engaged to another man. The results seem less than ideal.”

Mentioning this, she felt melancholy: “I just didn’t have time to properly manage the relationship. Once I finish residency training, I won’t be this busy.”

He smiled: “Stop deceiving yourself. You’ll become a neurosurgery specialist, have higher professional pursuits. If things continue developing this way, you’ll become more and more like your mother—relationships will increasingly be put in a secondary position by you.”

She admitted he was right: “That’s not necessarily bad.”

“But you’re not your mother. If you could let everything go, you wouldn’t choose such a difficult profession. You wouldn’t move to this city after breaking up with me and tattoo that line I hoped you would live by on the back of your neck. If you’d forgotten me and were living well, I would leave without another word. But you haven’t forgotten.”

Just then, not far away a mother walked by with a pair of children. She crumbled bread and scattered it. A flock of seagulls immediately flew over squawking to feed. The two children ran back and forth, laughing gleefully.

Perhaps nothing was more infectious than children’s laughter—it could make the whole world seem relaxed and peaceful. They both watched intently until that mother led them slowly away.

Zuo Si’an looked at the calm harbor waters in front and suddenly said softly: “The reason I chose neurosurgery back then, besides it being the most difficult and requiring the longest time, I also wanted to understand how long memories of the past would haunt me.”

“Did you get an answer?”

She shook her head: “The human brain’s structure is precise. Even with advanced science, we haven’t deciphered all its mysteries. According to current research results, the human brain is a neural network composed of 14 billion neurons. The region closely related to memory is called the hippocampus—it’s responsible for converting human experiences into long-term memories for storage. But no one knows what determines which experiences are deemed unimportant and can be forgotten, which will be retained and for how long. People can use will and training to remember certain people, events, experiences, and can forget certain experiences due to illness or trauma. But accomplishing selective forcible forgetting is basically impossible.”

She turned to look at him and said: “All my happiness is connected to a painful memory. What I want to forget and what I’ve decided to preserve forever simply can’t be separated. How could I possibly forget? I made many self-contradictory efforts: I left you, left New York, but I came to Baltimore. After graduating from medical school, I had opportunities to do residency elsewhere. After thinking it over, I still stayed and remained until now. Five years ago, I had a plastic surgeon repair the scar from the C-section on my abdomen. The surgery was very successful—basically removed all the hypertrophic scar tissue. Now only a smooth trace remains there. Even wearing a bikini, no one would make a fuss. But…” She raised her hand to touch the tattoo on the back of her neck. “I went and had this line of poetry tattooed on my body, lest one day I forget that moment when you looked at me and told me to be happy.”

Gao Xiang also remembered that day. On the road from Washington to Baltimore, Zuo Si’an softly read an English poem. It was early spring. The car window was rolled halfway down. The air still carried a crisp coolness. Her voice was gentle, the syllables flowing like a stream. Her eyes looking at him held a smile, gleaming brightly. Her hair lifted in the wind, making him entranced. In that moment, he wished her to always have happiness and deeply believed they would be together forever.

They both sank into memories simultaneously.

After a long while, Zuo Si’an spoke again: “I thought I had already resolved all problems—able to face the human body directly, able to forget past unpleasantness, able to stop taking nightmares seriously. In short, able to settle life well. But this time I got engaged, then hastily broke off the engagement. Then I watched helplessly as a patient died before me. I was suspended… I suddenly discovered I wasn’t prepared for anything. My life looks like it’s proceeding according to plan, but actually it’s already beyond recognition and out of control.”

“So you decided to return to China to look around?”

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, really. I thought you surely had a complete life long ago.”

“Thank you for having such strong confidence in me.”

“I first looked at where I was born, hoping to face the past and start a complete life anew. The result… I ended up making your life a mess too.”

He said gently: “I also have to thank you for this suspension, otherwise we might never have had a chance to meet again.”

She trembled slightly and smiled wryly: “Maybe not meeting would have been better.”

“Do you really think so?”

“What else can I think? Everything that separated us back then still exists. Gao Xiang, I don’t even have the solitary courage I had back then trying to fight fate. We can’t start over.”

“Nothing is impossible. For the first time in my life, I somewhat regret giving up the opportunity to make my career bigger, earn higher social status and more prominent fame. Otherwise I could abandon these seemingly important things to make you believe in my determination. Xiao An, I’m now just an obscure businessman. What I have to give up is just a bit of business.”

“But I can’t let you do this.”

“Unless you care that after you become a famous doctor in the future, someone will interview the man with you about his connection to you.”

She froze: “I don’t care about those things. But…”

“There will always be ‘buts’ in life. But we can’t let those ‘buts’ dominate our lives. We’ve missed too much time, Xiao An. I’m getting old too. Before I’m too old and have truly worn away all feelings, I want to be with you.” He gripped her hand tightly and gazed deeply at her. “This time, no one can change my decision, including you.”

Zuo Si’an looked at Gao Xiang. The man sitting beside her had appeared in the darkest days of her life, accompanying her through a youth shadowed by nightmares. She wasn’t certain when she had fallen in love with him, but everything about him was treasured deep in her memory, always with her.

Life is like a journey. Whether or not there were composed farewells, they each walked toward different paths. And time like an endless flowing river washes through the routes traveled, grinding away the edges and corners of youth, erasing traces left by bygone days, healing wounds that once devastated body and mind, while also slowly wearing away seemingly eternal emotions.

When all harm had become the past, finally reaching time’s far shore, she discovered she had no way not to love him, and no way to look into his eyes and say “no.”

Baltimore might have become a city in decline, but their memories remained vividly alive here.

Every forgetting was a quiet death of some part of the old self. Every remembering locked in the path they had walked, carved traces of love’s existence, gave life more real value.

Time proved everything.