Gao Xiang was silent for a moment. "She went to the United States with her mother last August."
Sun Ruodi couldn't hide her surprise. Just then, Bao Bao waved frantically at Gao Xiang from a distance. He waved back and said, "I have to go now, Ruodi. Let's keep in touch when we have time."
She nodded with a complicated expression. "Goodbye."
Gao Xiang spent two hours with Bao Bao at Ocean World, buying him the complete set of dolphin toys he wanted before finally persuading him to leave. By the time they got home, the child was already exhausted and had fallen asleep. Gao Xiang carried him to his room and put him on the small bed. Chen Zihui wiped the sweat from his forehead and said affectionately, "Bao Bao is truly attached to you. When I take him to the park, he never plays this wildly."
He signaled for his mother to step outside. "He can barely walk a few steps now without having to squat down. I'm afraid we can't delay the surgery any longer."
Chen Zihui's face turned pale. "I'm really afraid of what happened last year repeating itself—he almost... died on the operating table. Though he's physically weaker now, at least there's no immediate life-threatening danger."
"Mom, the doctor said that as he grows older, the burden on his heart will only increase, and the vascular malformation will become more severe."
"Then we absolutely cannot go to the same hospital as last time."
"Right. I'm currently asking a newly acquainted friend to gather information on where would be the best place for the surgery." He then asked her, "Why did you show Ruodi's photo to Bao Bao and tell him she's his mother?"
Chen Zihui didn't take it seriously. "Last time he was hospitalized, he suddenly kept asking me why the little friend named Guo Guo had his mother with him, while he only had his grandma and dad. Where was his mother? I had to tell him his mother had gone on a long trip. But he wouldn't let it go and asked what she looked like." She shrugged. "I had no choice but to show him an old photo of you and Ruodi together."
Gao Xiang said helplessly, "You've always been so smooth with your lies, haven't you? Didn't you consider what we'll tell him when he grows older and asks more questions? Besides, Ruodi lives in Hanjiang City. Have you thought about what would happen if we accidentally run into her?"
"What are the chances of that? I only showed him the photo once. He's just a child—he'll forget about it in no time."
"Forget about it?" Gao Xiang sneered. "We ran into Ruodi today, and Bao Bao directly called her Mommy."
Chen Zihui was taken aback but then actually laughed, clearly finding the situation amusing. "Maybe you should just reconcile with Ruodi. I've always been quite satisfied with that girl."
Gao Xiang said irritably, "She already has a boyfriend. Let me say it again—don't interfere in my affairs, and stop making up stories for Bao Bao."
Chen Zihui snorted. "Even though I'm divorced from your father, I'm still your mother. I have the right to be involved in your life."
Mentioning his father left Gao Xiang speechless. "Grandpa has repeatedly advised you not to bring up the divorce. Dad came by last time—why did you lock him out again?"
"I have nothing to say to him. He'd better have the sense not to bother me again."
"If he really had the sense not to come, you'd be even angrier and find some excuse to call him and start another big argument."
"After what he did, he should thank his lucky stars I didn't kill him or drive him out of our Chen Family. Thinking he can live peacefully and enjoy his wealth? Not a chance."
"Dad isn't exactly enjoying his wealth. He works harder than anyone at the company—even Grandpa admits that.""At that time, it was what he should have done. Don't expect me to forgive him because of that."
Gao Xiang looked at her gritted-teeth expression and could only shake his head: "Is there any point in carrying on like this endlessly?"
"Let me say it again—it's impossible for me to forgive him."
"Fine, as you wish. Pretend I never said anything."
Gao Xiang knew it was nearly impossible for Chen Zihui to let go of her obsession. He could only console himself with the thought that, at a certain age, one might still be troubled by the relationship between their parents, but it would only be a minor annoyance. What truly pained him were other matters.
He had his own obsessions.
Even Chen Zihui, who had never been particularly attentive, noticed this. Whether she tried to set him up with girls introduced by various acquaintances or brought up Sun Ruodi’s name in hopes of rekindling their relationship, Chen Zihui’s underlying intention was to make him forget Zuo Si’an. But he couldn’t.
Zuo Si’an had gone to the United States, and Gao Xiang didn’t even know exactly which day she left.
Before her departure, he had driven to the Affiliated High School of Normal University several times after school, parking his car at a distance, watching as Zuo Si’an emerged from the school gates. Once, he saw the tall basketball player meet her, accompany her to the bus stop, and see her home. The rest of the time, she was alone. She stood quietly among the waiting passengers at the stop, her heavy backpack slung over one shoulder, tilting her slightly. When her bus arrived, she never pushed forward with the crowd, always boarding last. Then she would appear at the middle window of the bus, gripping the handrail, gazing silently ahead.
He knew that after persuading Zuo Si’an to accept her mother’s arrangements, this kind of peeping was pitiable. But he couldn’t bring himself to cut ties abruptly, nor could he forget the calm yet dim look in her eyes after she agreed to go to the United States—a stark contrast to the fiery intensity that had once burned in her gaze in the park.
By the end of August, Bao Bao was scheduled for surgery. Complications arose on the operating table, nearly proving fatal. The entire family was terrified, and Chen Zihui almost broke down. During that period, Gao Xiang stayed by the hospital day and night. By the time Bao Bao was finally discharged, Zuo Si’an was no longer at the school. He drove to her apartment, but no one was home. His mind went blank.
She had left without a sound, without calling to say goodbye as he had asked, and without leaving any contact information—as if determined to vanish completely from his life.
Autumn turned to winter, followed by the start of a new year. After a brief spring came another long, sweltering summer. Life went on in its cyclical routine. Gao Xiang continued working, caring for Bao Bao, and maintaining a structured life. Yet, deep inside, there was a void only he knew about—one that time had failed to heal.
On a trip back to Qinggang for business, he sought out Jingjing, who was studying at Qinggang Middle School. As expected, Zuo Si’an was still corresponding with her. Jingjing told him, "Last month, I got a letter from Sister Xiao An. She said her English has improved a lot, and she can understand about 80% of her classes now. Oh, and she mentioned that many high school students there drive, so she’s planning to get her driver’s license too."
He noted the address on the airmail envelope Zuo Si’an had sent: Portland, Maine.After returning home, he searched online and learned that there are at least two cities called Portland in the United States. One is in Oregon, more famous and among the largest cities in the country; the other is where Zuo Si'an went with her mother, the only city in Maine with just over 60,000 residents.
His birthplace, Qinggang County, had a population of 400,000, and the city where he currently lived, Hanjiang, had 7 million residents. He truly couldn't imagine what it would be like to live in a small city with only tens of thousands of people.
An eastern port city, 170 kilometers from Boston, bordering Casco Bay, established in 1632, and renamed to its current name in 1786—it had experienced four major fires in its history. The information Gao Xiang could find about this city was almost blank.
After surviving multiple fires, the city's motto was in Latin: Resurgam, meaning: I shall rise again.
His gaze lingered on these words.
Had Zuo Si'an found her rebirth there?
2
Maine ranks 39th in size among the 50 states in the U.S., sparsely populated. Portland is already the largest city and commercial center in the state, but by Chinese standards, it can only be considered a quiet small town. The vast majority of its residents are white, and Eastern faces are rarely seen.
Yu Jia was working as a postdoctoral researcher at a private geological research institute in Portland, Maine. After Peter returned to his home country first, she had already applied for a teaching position at a liberal arts college near Portland. Zuo Si'an transferred into a local public high school, becoming the only Chinese student in the entire school. She had long adapted to a relatively solitary state and did not find this unfamiliar environment, where she was different from others and lacked communication, unbearable. However, she was still struggling with the language barrier. Students like her, who had just finished their first year of high school in China, would typically choose to start from the 10th grade upon arriving in the U.S. But after reviewing American high school math textbooks, Yu Jia felt the level was too basic and posed no problem for students who had attended key high schools in China. Additionally, since Zuo Si'an had already taken a year off during her third year of middle school, Yu Jia insisted she skip directly to the 11th grade.
The 11th grade is the most intense year of American high school. In science subjects, Zuo Si'an's foundational knowledge from her education in China was solid, so even if she only half-understood the lectures, it wasn't a major issue. What troubled her most were English and social studies. The required reading for English class was almost entirely unfamiliar to her, and the structure and political systems of American society covered in social studies left her utterly confused. Moreover, much of American high school teaching involved discussions. During a single class, she struggled just to comprehend others' comments and was completely unable to participate. Coupled with her introverted nature and dislike for debates or expressing her opinions proactively, the academic pressure turned into psychological stress, and her insomnia worsened.
Yu Jia had always held high standards for herself and others when it came to academics and failed to recognize the existence of stress. She believed all academic problems could be solved through hard work. In her view, Zuo Si'an's issues stemmed from insufficient effort, a lack of clear goals, and a failure to enter a focused state of learning.She repeatedly reminded Zuo Si'an that by twelfth grade, college applications would begin, and if she wanted to successfully get into a good university, she needed to work even harder. Zuo Si'an had no habit of explaining herself to her mother to seek understanding, nor did she know how to explain, so she could only struggle on bitterly.
Peter, who visited regularly, noticed that Zuo Si'an's mental state was off. However, from an American perspective, Peter believed her issues stemmed from untreated psychological trauma, causing her to remain withdrawn and unable to establish effective communication with those around her. Zuo Si'an's indifference toward him only reinforced his judgment.
When he discussed this with Yu Jia, she—like many in China with a science or engineering background—remained skeptical of unverified theories. Hearing Peter suggest that Zuo Si'an see a psychologist, she immediately frowned. "Xiao An is just introverted. There's no need to see a doctor for psychological issues."
Peter smiled and said, "I know there's a stigma around discussing psychological problems in your culture, but everyone needs help sometimes. Seeing a doctor is a way to find solutions—it's nothing to be afraid of. After my divorce, I was deeply depressed and saw a psychologist for two years before I recovered. That’s why I admire your ability to handle all the pressure independently. You're incredibly strong."
"We have our own ways of dealing with problems. Xiao An won’t even share her thoughts with me—how could she possibly agree to talk to a doctor?"
"Sometimes victims feel a sense of guilt, blaming themselves for everything. If these emotions aren’t released through some outlet, it can be very harmful. If she doesn’t like the idea of formal sessions with a psychologist, there are other options. I know schools usually have dedicated psychological counselors who are professionally trained; students can schedule appointments. Or she could join a support group for survivors of sexual assault. There, people with similar experiences gather to share and discuss anonymously, which could help her move past the shadows more quickly."
When Yu Jia was in danger in Guizhou, she had told Peter about her daughter’s situation. After the initial shock, Peter showed great sympathy, which gave her some comfort. On the other hand, his unrestrained way of discussing issues sometimes annoyed her. Coming from a conservative society, she found direct terms like "sexual assault" jarring. She believed time could solve all problems and never discussed the incident with her daughter, let alone openly.
Still, Peter meant well and made valid points. After careful consideration, she tentatively brought it up with Zuo Si'an. Zuo Si'an was taken aback and then flew into a rage: "This was Peter’s idea, wasn’t it?"
OpenNovel