Gao Xiang drove towards Baltimore and said, "Read that poem to me."
Zuo Si'an hesitated for a moment, then recited softly:
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
With all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.Do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
(Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.)You have the right to be here.
Without question, the world has completely opened up for you
Whether you understand this point or not
So you should make peace with God
No matter where you believe He resides
No matter what efforts you make, what desires you hold
In the noisy, chaotic life
You should make peace with your soul
Though there are many deceptions and frauds in this world
Many monotonous and tedious tasks
And numerous shattered dreams
It is still a beautiful world
Remember: You should strive to be happy
He freed one hand to stroke her hair, marveling, "That sounds wonderful."
"Who praises a poem like that?"
"I'm praising your voice. My English is only good enough to understand the last few lines: It is still a beautiful world. Remember: You should strive to be happy. Right?"
"Right," she laughed. "I like the middle lines best. The Chinese meaning goes like this: You should be kind to yourself, you are part of this vast universe just like the trees and stars, you have the right to be here, without question the world has completely opened up for you, whether you understand this point or not."
"I still prefer the line I understood: Be cheerful, strive to be happy. I want you to be happy."
She tightly grasped his hand: "I'm already very happy."
Baltimore also has many tourist attractions, but compared to the several cities Gao Xiang had arranged, its appeal to tourists was clearly lesser—neither as fashionable and bustling as New York, nor as quiet and classical as Portland. They drove into the city, passing through an industrial area. After entering the downtown, they saw clusters of messy, densely packed houses that appeared uninhabited, with poor public security and a scene of desolation and decay. Gao Xiang couldn't help but frown and immediately drove away.
Fortunately, they soon passed that area. The urban area was filled with tall buildings, neat streets, appearing beautiful, prosperous, and orderly.
Arriving at St. Paul's Church, Zuo Si'an and Gao Xiang wandered inside and outside the church but found no trace of the engraved poem, leaving them puzzled. A silver-haired, kindly-looking elderly gentleman actively greeted them: "Are you looking for the poem carved on the wall?""
"Yes. How did you know?"
"I've been volunteering at this church for nearly ten years and have met many tourists searching for the poem. I specifically researched it and found out it's actually a beautiful misunderstanding." The old man laughed heartily. "'Desiderata' was written by a poet named Max Ehrmann in 1927. It was once collected in a pamphlet by a former rector of St. Paul's Church and distributed to the congregation as spiritual nourishment. The pamphlet's cover printed the construction date of St. Paul's Church: 1692. After the poem spread, it was mistakenly believed to be his writing time, and somehow, it was also associated with being carved on the church walls."
"Oh, so that's how it is."The old man smiled and added: "It doesn't affect the poem's beauty, does it?""
Zuo Si'an nodded in agreement.
"Please continue your visit. This is the first Catholic church in the United States, with a very long history. Therefore—""Be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be." The old gentleman quoted that line from the poem and waved goodbye to them.
After leaving St. Paul's Cathedral, the two arrived at the Inner Harbor. This area was originally an important industrial port, but after World War II, as the city's heavy industry declined, the port became increasingly desolate. Later, the government carried out large-scale renovations, redeveloping it for commerce and tourism. Taking boat tours became a major sightseeing activity.
As they strolled along the riverbank, Zuo Si'an said, "I quite like this place. The city isn't as orderly as Washington, but it feels rather familiar. For some reason, it somewhat reminds me of being by the Han River."
He didn't see much resemblance but knew she was probably feeling homesick: "Are you missing home?"
She froze, her expression turning blank and dim, then shook her head.
"You talked in your sleep yesterday."
She immediately grew tense: "Did I wake you? What did I say?"
"You called for your dad, and said Shenyang Road was coming up."
Her eyes instantly reddened, and she could no longer maintain the pretense of being unaffected.
"Missing your father?" She silently acknowledged it. He hugged her and asked, "Have you been in touch with him?"
"Every time I call him, I don't know what to say. Last time on the phone, I told him I wanted to go to college in New York. He said he plans to ask a friend to help sell the apartment in Hanjiang City and send me the money from that plus his savings for tuition." At this point, she could no longer hold back, tears streaming down her cheeks as she choked out, "I told him I'd go to a public university, it wouldn't cost much, and he didn't need to send money. But he wouldn't listen, insisting on doing it. He said this was the only thing he could do for me. I know he doesn't plan to return to Hanjiang, and I no longer have a home to go back to either."
He could only hold her tighter, stroking her hair, waiting for her emotions to settle before saying, "Xiao An, we'll have a home together."
She didn't respond, only burrowed deeper into his embrace.
That evening, they checked into a hotel near the Inner Harbor. Gao Xiang was tired from driving and fell asleep quickly after showering and lying on the bed. He was awakened around midnight by a lingering kiss, almost wondering if he was having a sensual dream. However, he soon realized this wasn't a dream.
The room was unlit, with moonlight filtering through the half-open curtains. Zuo Si'an was leaning over him, her tongue lightly tracing his throat - soft, moist, and provocative. In the darkness, he could vaguely see she was wearing a thin nightgown, her long hair cascading down, her body emanating a subtle fragrance.
He smiled wryly, his voice hoarse as he said, "Sleeping next to you already tests my self-control to the limit. You really shouldn't tempt me like this."
She paid no heed, reaching to lift the crewneck T-shirt he was using as pajamas, pressing her lips against his chest. He grabbed her hand to stop her, and she looked up, her eyes sparkling in the night: "I want you, Gao Xiang."
His body had already involuntarily heated up, but he managed to say, "Don't force yourself. I told you, there's no hurry for this.""If we decide to be together, we should start somewhere. I need to overcome my own fears. So..." her voice grew faint, "please... be patient."
He needed no further encouragement, rolling over to press her beneath him as he began kissing her.
Zuo Si'an enjoyed the steady warmth of Gao Xiang's embrace, relished the intimate closeness of their shifting kisses. But when all clothing was shed and not a single barrier remained between them, she still shrank back in fear.
The darkness spared her the embarrassment of facing their nakedness, yet made everything feel uncertain. Something from the depths of her memory surfaced like a persistent shadow. She kept repeating to herself: This is the man you've always loved, and you've already made your decision.
He sensed it from her rigid posture, her involuntary flinching, the cold sweat on her skin. He raised himself up, easing the pressure on her, preparing to slow down. But she clung to him desperately, winding herself more tightly around him, recklessly meeting his passion and heat.
He could no longer stop. Nothing required rehearsal, nothing could be controlled.
He knew she was still afraid, even understood that her effort to overcome fear had put her in a strange, detached state—almost completing their most intimate contact through self-sacrifice, displaying far more courage than pleasure. His passion involuntarily mingled with pity and guilt, yet all taboos seemed to double the intensity of pleasure. When he reached his climax, the joy he felt exploded—pure, reckless, overwhelming him completely.
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