1

Change brought by time was everywhere.

More than ten years had passed, and the road from Lhasa to Ngari had been maintained and repaired, making driving much more convenient. With the opening of flights at Ngari Airport and the increase in tourists, Shiquanhe Town was no longer like it had been in the late 1990s with only two pitifully few guesthouses. Newly opened hotels could be seen everywhere, with conditions much better than before.

Entering their reserved room, Zuo Si’an immediately opened her travel suitcase and took out a portable travel medicine kit. Opening it revealed neatly arranged medicine bottles inside. As she searched through them, Gao Xiang asked her, “Bringing so many medicines when traveling—is that a professional habit for doctors?”

“I suppose it’s an occupational hazard.” She found a medicine bottle, took a bottle of water and handed it to Gao Xiang, pouring two pills into his palm. “This is a Swiss medication for preventing altitude sickness. It’s very effective. Take it quickly.”

Gao Xiang swallowed the medicine as instructed. She gripped his wrist, staring at her watch as she counted his pulse, then asked him, “If you feel uncomfortable anywhere, please tell me immediately.”

“Everything else is fine, it’s just that last time I came to Ngari, I was okay even after being worn out for so long, but this time I immediately feel tired. This feeling of being aged by the years is truly melancholy.”

She thought for a moment and answered seriously, “This is just the emotional depression brought on by altitude sickness. It has nothing to do with age.”

He was amused by this overly earnest explanation: “Your sense of humor has obviously increased a lot since you started studying medicine.”

Only then did she realize he was teasing her. She could only smile bitterly, then turned to take the clothes she’d hung in the closet, half-kneeling to pack them back into her suitcase.

“What are you doing now?”

“I told you, I’m checking out and going to the airport right now.”

“Nonsense. There’s only one civilian flight in and out of Ngari each day. I had a hard time getting here on a military plane from Kashgar. Sit down properly.”

She froze, then sat somewhat dejectedly on the floor, supporting her head with her hands in frustration. This posture made Gao Xiang both annoyed and amused. He came over and pulled her up: “I didn’t come here specifically to escort you away.”

“You don’t need to escort me. I know I’ve disturbed everyone. It’s time to leave.”

“After all these years, you still haven’t escaped your father’s influence.”

She looked up in astonishment: “What do you mean by that?”

“You went out with him perfectly fine, then suddenly had respiratory alkalosis and were so uncomfortable you crouched on the street corner alone. There must be a reason, right?” He smiled faintly. “Don’t look at me like that. After I got off the plane, I called Shi Wei. She told me that when you went out for a walk, your father would likely take you to that little street selling handicrafts. I walked in that direction—otherwise, how could I have so coincidentally run into you halfway there?”

“You’ve been in contact with Shi Wei all along?”

“Yes, starting a few years ago, I’ve been helping her arrange for students here with congenital heart disease to have surgery in the interior. She’s remarkable. In a certain sense, the contribution she’s made is far greater than your father’s.”

“Of course. At least her motivation for staying here is somewhat purer.” Her tone was calm and objective, as if evaluating strangers rather than her father and stepmother.

Gao Xiang looked at her thoughtfully: “Let’s have a good talk.”

“Talk about what? If you’re still going to make me explain why I came back to the country, I really have nothing to say. I know I was wrong and am willing to disappear immediately.”

“That day in your room at Linjiang Hotel, I asked you this question. Your exact words were: you have your reasons—” Then Zhu Xiaoyan had suddenly knocked on the door, interrupting their conversation. He said casually, “Now I want to hear that reason.”

“You flew for several hours just to come hear my reasons for returning to the country?”

“And you flew halfway around the world just to take a look and leave? Which of us is stranger?”

Zuo Si’an was speechless. After a long pause, she said, “I’ll leave as soon as possible and stop disturbing all of you, so the reason isn’t important anymore.”

“The problem is, you’ve already disturbed all of us: Liu Guanchao, your father, Shi Wei, and me.” He raised his eyebrows and added, “Especially me.”

She stared at him blankly, then after a long moment smiled with difficulty: “I’m very sorry.”

Gao Xiang was also stunned. In Hanjiang City, he had behaved very sternly, yet Zuo Si’an had seemed completely unbothered, responding easily with mature and natural composure. That overly calm and collected attitude had even vaguely angered him. Now his tone was peaceful, somewhat teasing even, yet Zuo Si’an seemed unable to maintain the same attitude. Her eyes, curved in a smile, looked deep and sorrowful, faintly reminding him of that flustered girl from the past.

“What’s wrong?”

She became aware of his concerned gaze and immediately returned to normal, smiling slightly: “My head hurts a bit. I’m fine, just tired.”

He supported her arm and led her to the bed: “Lie down. You’ve been here before, and you’re a doctor. You should know how harsh the plateau region can be. You can’t ignore any signal from your body. If you’re tired, you must rest.”

“You should go rest too.”

“It’s peak tourist season. The hotel has no vacant rooms. If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here for a while.”

Of course Zuo Si’an couldn’t object. Gao Xiang sat unceremoniously on the other side of the bed. He saw her staring at the ceiling with wide-open eyes, lost in thought. He asked, “Still having insomnia problems?”

“As a resident physician in America, working at least 110 hours a week, getting at most three days off a month, with a 24-hour full-day shift every four days, how could I still have such a luxurious problem as insomnia? When I’m tired, I can fall asleep immediately wherever I lean.”

“It’s curious that someone who used to hate hospitals and wouldn’t even face their own body would think of studying medicine.”

She was silent for a moment: “Initially it was because studying medicine is difficult enough, and takes a long time, enough to consume all my energy and let me immerse myself completely, forgetting many things. Later on, being able to help others eliminate some suffering, I felt my efforts had value.”

“What you wanted to forget—did that include me too?”

She turned her head to look at him. She had intended to give a polite and appropriate answer, but her emotions surged, and she suddenly blurted out: “Why ask me this question? We fundamentally can’t control memory. I even still remember that the place where you went to drink coffee every day was Green Door, on Huaqing Street.”

Gao Xiang reached out and grasped her hand. She was startled and trembled slightly, wanting to withdraw her hand, but he held it firmly.

After more than ten years in America, this was her first time back. Everything she saw, though not exactly transformed beyond recognition, had changed everywhere. Old familiar places had been razed, tall buildings erected, familiar roads no longer existed, familiar people passed without recognition. Only he had recognized her at first glance outside Green Door; and his hand was exactly the same as in her memory: slender, thin, even the texture of his palm and fingertips felt just like yesterday.

For an instant, she wanted to stay forever within this palm. However, she immediately became clearly aware that she was no longer that fragile girl from the past, lost in a strange world, filled with panic and fear, waiting for someone to find her, and once she grasped a hand, refusing ever to let go. And he had already become an elegant and mature man. His sharp gaze occasionally revealed itself before the brilliance immediately receded inward, so calm you couldn’t see any ripples. His life needed her interference less than at any other time.

The long years had already separated them.

Zuo Si’an adjusted her breathing and lifted her head: “Hanjiang City has changed too much. I completely didn’t recognize the streets. I was just planning to walk around casually. When I saw Green Door was still there, I was quite surprised. I had originally wanted to sit there, drink a cup of coffee, and when it was almost quitting time, call you. I didn’t expect to run into you there.”

Gao Xiang looked at her and released her hand: “A few years ago, Green Door’s owner emigrated. I bought the place and tried to operate it as it was originally, keeping on many regular customers from over ten years. Probably everyone subconsciously wants to hold onto something that won’t change.” A smile appeared at the corner of his mouth as he added, “Knowing this idea is illusory, I still can’t avoid being common.”

“Opening a coffee shop is probably many people’s dream.”

“So becoming a doctor—for you, is it a career goal or a dream?”

She hesitated: “I can only say it’s a career goal. As for dreams, my dream is very simple—just living a fulfilling life.”

“In my understanding, being busy doesn’t equal being fulfilled. I don’t have much impression of the city of Baltimore anymore. I only remember it seemed to have some vacant residential areas, and public security wasn’t very good.”

“Yes, because manufacturing isn’t doing well and the economy is in recession, there are many unemployed people, so public security really isn’t good.”

“What about your mother—does she still live in Portland?” Seeing her nod, he said, “A place like Portland does seem like it could remain unchanged for decades, as if time had stopped.”

“Actually Portland has changed too. When I went there this year, the airport was under expansion, and there were many more tourists from China. According to my mother, now many Maine middle schools have insufficient enrollment and tight finances, so they’re vigorously recruiting Chinese students. Even very remote small towns have young international students. Not like when I went to high school there—I was the only Asian face in the entire school.”

“So there really is nothing in this world that won’t change.”

Zuo Si’an became aware of his implication and couldn’t answer for a moment. After the long journey and time zone changes, having experienced intense emotional turmoil from meeting her father, and now sharing a room with him while having to remain composed, she was already exhausted and unable to struggle to maintain the appearance of someone unaffected and continue chatting.

“I’m sorry, I’m really tired. If you don’t mind—”

“Go ahead and sleep.”

The room became quiet. The bed was only about one and a half meters wide. They each leaned to one side, with only a few dozen centimeters between them, able to hear each other’s breathing. Not knowing how much time had passed, Gao Xiang still had no trace of sleepiness. He turned his head to look at Zuo Si’an. As she had said, she fell asleep quickly. She was already deeply asleep, her head turned to one side, breathing evenly and slowly, one hand resting on the pillow.

He recalled the year she was nearly fifteen, after returning from Ngari, in the hotel in Chengdu, when she had also lain beside him like this. The difference was that time she had been crying, clutching him tightly like a drowning person grasping the only piece of driftwood, refusing to let go even in sleep. This year she was thirty years old. Having lived alone abroad for so long and having become a doctor who could calmly face life, death, illness, and pain, she had probably long ago learned and grown accustomed to resolving inner burdens alone.

And what about him? He was a father trusted by a fifteen-year-old boy, in everyone’s eyes almost the embodiment of mature rationality. Only when encountering her did his rational judgment seem to be set aside.

The guest room door was suddenly knocked twice softly. Zuo Si’an, who seemed to be sleeping deeply, had no reaction. Gao Xiang immediately went to open the door. Standing outside was Zuo Xuejun, who was greatly shocked to suddenly see Gao Xiang.

Gao Xiang said politely in a soft voice: “Secretary Zuo, hello. Your daughter is extremely tired and just fell asleep. If there’s anything, you can speak with her later.”

Zuo Xuejun looked embarrassed. He turned to leave but then stopped: “If it’s convenient, I’d like to talk with you. Is that all right?”

Gao Xiang was slightly surprised but immediately nodded.

2

Leaving the hotel, Zuo Xuejun asked Gao Xiang, “Are you accustomed to drinking butter tea?”

Gao Xiang nodded: “No problem.”

Zuo Xuejun brought Gao Xiang to a teahouse not far from the hotel. It had no sign, the entrance was so small as to be completely inconspicuous, and inside it was even more cramped and simple. The walls were blackened, the lighting dim, and the customers were almost all Tibetan. In a large pot on the stove at the very back, brick tea was bubbling and boiling vigorously. A wrinkled old Tibetan man ladled out the tea liquid, filtered out the tea leaves, poured it into a cylindrical churn, added butter and salt, then fully stirred and churned, making butter tea.

“Tourists from outside like to drink sweet milk tea. This shop only has butter tea, and they don’t use the electric butter tea machines that are gradually becoming common. Everything is hand-cooked. Even the butter is homemade by the shop owner. The taste is very authentic.”

The only server brought up a pot of steaming hot butter tea. Zuo Xuejun poured the tea into wooden bowls and pushed one in front of Gao Xiang: “Drink. It’s still useful for preventing altitude sickness.”

“Thank you.”

“Is your father well?”

“Thank you, he’s fine.”

“In recent years, Qinggang Liquor Industry seems to have been developing quite well.”

“It’s doing all right. My father is the board chairman and manages the company. I focus on doing my own little business.”

Both fell into silence. The polite small talk clearly couldn’t continue. Zuo Xuejun decided to get straight to the point: “Xiao An didn’t mention to me that you had come too.”

Gao Xiang said frankly, “She had no idea I would come.”

“A few days ago, I called her mother.” Obviously he rarely contacted his ex-wife. He said carefully, “Her mother said she has a boyfriend, and he’s already proposed to her. I asked you out just to remind you that if Xiao An’s life already has arrangements, you can’t interfere with her.”

Gao Xiang laughed: “Is Secretary Zuo telling me to be sensible and leave?”

“Xiao An seems so independent and rational now. If she has a boyfriend and has reached the stage of discussing marriage, she must have thought it through maturely. I hope her marriage can be smooth and happy, not have complications just because she came back to see me.”

“She didn’t mention her engagement to you, did she?” Zuo Xuejun tacitly agreed. “So did she tell you why she suddenly came to see you?”

Zuo Xuejun was silent for a moment: “She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”

“Don’t you find it strange at all? After all, she hasn’t returned to the country for nearly thirteen years. If I’m not mistaken, she probably rarely calls you to report on her life either.”

“Yes, we probably talk on the phone once a year, usually around Chinese New Year. When I received her call this time saying she was planning to come see me, I almost couldn’t believe my ears. I didn’t take her appearance as something natural.” Zuo Xuejun stared at the wooden bowl in his hands. “I really wanted to know how she’s been all these years, but I knew nothing about such a long period of her life. There were too many questions I wanted to ask, yet I felt asking anything would be abrupt. I wasn’t even done feeling grateful and happy—how could I start asking her why she came to see me?”

“If you really welcomed her visit, you certainly didn’t show it. When I saw her this afternoon, she’d just separated from you and looked very unhappy.”

Zuo Xuejun was stung by Gao Xiang’s understated accusation. He turned his head away, facing the mottled and peeling wall, and only after a long while said: “I know. She has every right to be angry with me. I performed very poorly. I always have.”

“So you plan to be satisfied with this kind of reunion after a long separation: receiving your daughter you haven’t seen in years, inviting her to eat at home, taking her shopping at the handicraft market, driving away the man who followed her here, sending her to the airport, letting her marry a foreigner you’ve never met.”

“She didn’t mention her boyfriend at all. I don’t think I have the right to ask much.”

Gao Xiang said coldly: “Her boyfriend is certainly not the only thing she didn’t mention to you. If I remember correctly, before she went abroad, the only request she made of you was asking you to come home. When she was fourteen, I went to your home to ask you to go see her in Liu Wan. You refused and came to Ngari without saying goodbye to her. When she was not yet fifteen, she traveled a long distance to Ngari to see you. You gave her a promise but ultimately didn’t keep it. As for driving me away from her side, you already did that during Chinese New Year when she was seventeen. After all these years, your performance hasn’t improved much—I think a father should be able to do more for his daughter than just this.”

“Besides these things, what else can I do for her?” Zuo Xuejun’s hand holding the wooden bowl trembled slightly. After another moment, he said hoarsely, “All these years, about her situation, all I know is: she went to college, then continued to medical school, she’s doing her residency, and that’s all. I’ve completely missed her life. She’s thirty years old this year. Seeing her suddenly standing in front of me, I felt like I was dreaming. When she talks to me, I can’t help spacing out, remembering things from when she was little. When she was born, she had neonatal jaundice and needed phototherapy. Her mother and I had no experience at all and were so scared we didn’t dare close our eyes for days. Later when she recovered, we named her Si’an, hoping she could have peace and safety throughout her life… I never imagined that I couldn’t even ensure her most basic safety. I’m a failed father…”

Gao Xiang had nothing more to say for the moment. He could see that the man before him was in long-term pain and self-reproach, with no need for further reminders from him.

“I don’t doubt that you care about your daughter, but if all you’re thinking about is making me stay away from her and letting her continue back to that distant place to live a life you don’t understand, this kind of concern is too simplistic. A part of your daughter’s heart still remains in her adolescence, never truly having completely emerged from it. If you avoid it, you can keep avoiding it and successfully complete this meeting with your daughter.” After a pause, he added, “Believe me, for the next ten-plus years, she still won’t be in touch with you.”

Just then Gao Xiang’s phone rang. He said “excuse me” and went outside to answer. The call was from Zuo Si’an at the hotel.

“You woke up so quickly?”

“Actually, when my dad knocked on the door, I woke up. But suddenly I felt guilty and didn’t know how to face him properly—completely lacking the righteousness I had at seventeen when you and I were caught at home together by him.”

Mentioning that incident, both felt something similar in their hearts. Zuo Si’an seemed somewhat regretful and hastily added: “I couldn’t think of what to say, so I just pretended to sleep and let you deal with it.”

Gao Xiang was amused by this confession: “All right, I forgive you for throwing me out to face him.”

“Where are you two?”

“Don’t worry, your father was very polite to me this time. He invited me to a small teahouse to drink butter tea. The taste is a bit strong, but after drinking it, my head really doesn’t hurt as much. Maybe you should come try it.”

She made a sound of acknowledgment.

“He’s very concerned about your life and doesn’t want me to continue pestering and disturbing you.”

She smiled bitterly: “Why didn’t you tell him that actually it’s me who disturbed you?”

“There’s no need to explain. I really did follow you to Ngari.”

“I’ll make it clear to him.” She said softly, “Gao Xiang, please tell him I’m going to the Shiquan River bank now. If he still wants to talk with me, come find me by the river.”

“I said there’s no need to explain.”

“No, he came to the hotel to find me. He must have something to say to me. Even if I feel there’s nothing to say, I can’t keep letting you block for me anymore.”

Gao Xiang returned to the teahouse and told Zuo Xuejun that his daughter was waiting for him by the river. They paid the bill and came out. He watched Zuo Xuejun walk away, and suddenly remembered that night fifteen years ago when he had brought Zuo Si’an out from the guesthouse, also walking on this street.

Both of them had been troubled by severe altitude sickness. He had held her hand, their steps slow. All around was dark, deep, and quiet. The street was exceptionally empty. Wind carrying sand and dust howled past their ears with a momentum that seemed to engulf and carry away everything. She no longer carefully kept her distance from him as in the past, but unconsciously drew close to him, firmly grasping his hand.

Regardless of his mother’s opposition, he had sent Zuo Si’an to Ngari over thousands of miles. Initially it had been purely out of guilt, trying to atone for Chen Ziyu’s sins to obtain peace of mind.

It was precisely at that moment that he had developed deeper emotional investment in her. Their fates seemed to have been officially connected through their silently clasped hands.

Many years later, clearly realizing this for the first time, Gao Xiang also felt a moment of trance.