Taoist priest goes to America

(Brothers, I've been censored 33 times, so I'm behaving myself for now. I'll avoid the brunt of the criticism and write about daily life. I'll unleash my fury in the chapter after next.)

"Phinelia." Li An put down the cup, his voice very gentle, as if coaxing a frightened cat, "Listen to me."

Fineria blinked, the white milk foam still clinging to her upper lip, but all her attention was on what Li An was about to say, her fingers unconsciously pressing against the ceramic cup.

"You can't give up your family business," Ang Lee said. "You just told me that you wanted to change your major when you were a freshman, but your mother stopped you with just one phone call."

Fineria didn't speak, she just looked at him.

Do you know what this means?

"It means you care about them." Ang Lee gave her the answer. "You say you hate it when they arrange everything for you, but actually you care about their feelings more than you think."

"Otherwise, you wouldn't have answered that call at all, or even if you had, you would have still submitted the application form, but you didn't. You gave up."

"You're a good daughter at heart, Fineria. You may not want to admit it, but you are."

"You feel trapped and want to break free, but once you do break free, are you sure you won't regret it? Your parents may have used the wrong methods, but their intentions weren't to harm you."

"They want you to inherit the family business because they believe you can do it well."

"They want you to marry Harrington because, in their circle, Harrington is indeed the most suitable choice—of course, he's certainly not the most suitable, but that's another story."

Ang Lee leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, closing the distance between the two.

"What would happen if you ran away with me now? Let's assume something." His tone suddenly became very serious.

"Your parents will cut off all your financial support immediately. Your credit cards, your trust funds, your property—everything will be frozen."

"You will go from having everything to having nothing—no, you will also end up with a man you've only known for a day."

"And then?" Ang Lee looked into her eyes. "We'll find a cheap apartment to live in. You'll teach music, and I'll go to work. When I get home at night, I'll be too tired to even talk."

"A year from now," he said, holding up one finger, "you'll start to wonder what would have happened if you hadn't run away."

"And what about your parents?" Ang Lee put down his coffee cup. "You said they called today to urge you to get married, which made you very upset, but have you ever thought about why they're so busy? It's because they have to maintain the Ferdinand family's business empire."

"Whose property will that be in the future? It will be yours."

Ang Lee silently thought to himself, "It's mine too."

"Everything they do is ultimately paving the way for you, it's just that the way they're paving the way makes you uncomfortable."

"If you really elope with me, you will not only let them down, but you will also let down the person you could have become—the person who took over the family business and changed it in your own way."

"You don't have to marry Harrington, but you don't have to abandon everything and run away now."

"You can go back and inherit what you're entitled to, run it in your own way, and prove it to your parents."

"You don't need them to choose for you; you can do it yourself. By then, you can marry whoever you want, and no one will be able to threaten you with anything anymore."

Ang Lee chuckled softly as he finished speaking.

"Anyway, it's not me. I can only afford a single room in the basement of your house. If you really elope with me, I won't even have a single room to live in."

"The walls built by class and reality can be very high and thick, and cannot be crossed by ideals alone."

Fineria looked down at the now-cold hot cocoa in her cup; the milk foam had long since dissipated, and the brown liquid reflected the wooden window frame beside her.

The cafe staff had already placed the wiped cups upside down on the tray, and the cash register drawer was pulled out, with coins clattering in the metal tray.

These were the last few minutes before closing time, and this was the only shop on the entire street with its lights still on.

After a long while, Fineria finally spoke.

"So what do you think I should do?"

Ang Lee looked at her; her eyes were a little red, and the expression on her face was no longer the impulsive, reckless determination she had shown before, but rather a sense of confusion about the future.

"Go back," Ang Lee said. "Go back to where you belong. Treat tonight's events as a dream, a dream you had on your twenty-sixth birthday."

"In my dream, a man helped me escape by climbing over a wall. When I woke up, you went back to being your pampered princess, and I went back to being your tenant who paid the rent."

Ang Lee added, "If you really want to write that Brooklyn essay, then just start writing it. You don't need to elope to write it."

Fineria lowered her head, staring at her hands resting on the table. After a long while, she sniffed and looked up again.

"You're right." Her tone was much calmer than before. "I... I don't even know what I was saying. I guess I was just too happy tonight, so happy that I felt like I could just let myself go."

"Being happy is a good thing." Ang Lee stood up, picked up the bill on the table, "but after the happiness is over, life still goes on."

He went to the cashier, paid, then came back and stood beside her. Fineria looked up at him, her expression complex.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for bringing me out."

Ang Lee looked down at her, extended a hand, and invited her to continue walking with him.

When they arrived at Brooklyn Bridge Park, it was almost 10:30 p.m. The night breeze by the water was much stronger than on the streets, carrying the damp, earthy smell of the river.

The 1922 Jane vintage glass carousel stands quietly in a glass house on the waterfront, with warm yellow light bulbs wrapped around the roof and frame, like an amber heart placed on the riverbank.

The carousel wasn't running, but the light was still on in the small window next to it, and a young manager in a hoodie was sitting inside playing on his phone.

Fineria peered through the glass wall. The painted surfaces of the wooden horses had faded somewhat, and the glass marbles inlaid in their manes shimmered in the warm light.

She turned to look at Ang Lee, her eyes sparkling.

"I want to sit."

The administrator took the money, started the machine, and the gears turned with a deep hum. The old wooden horses rose and fell, and the colored light in the whole glass house flowed with the rotation.

Fineria chose a white wooden horse, sat on it sideways, and held onto the smooth brass pillar.

Ang Lee leaned against the glass wall opposite, not riding the rocking horse, but just quietly watching her.

The carousel spun round and round, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyscrapers of Manhattan on the opposite bank looked like luminous pillars piercing the night sky. Ferries on the river moved slowly, leaving white trails, and water vapor condensed into a thin mist on the glass.

Fineria stretched out a hand, letting the night breeze pass through her fingers, her golden hair flying backward and her skirt gently slapping against the saddle of the rocking horse.

When she laughed, it was pure joy. Her reflection swirled in the glass, blending with the lights of Manhattan.

The wind whistled through the glass house, and the wooden gears creaked like an old-fashioned music box.

After exiting the carousel, the two walked slowly along the riverbank of the East River. There was no paved path along the bank, only piles of stones of various sizes that crunched underfoot.

Fineria kicked off her high heels and walked barefoot on the cold gravel. Occasionally, she would hiss and gasp for breath when she bumped into something, and then continue walking.

A ferry whistle sounded in the distance, its echo reverberating across the water.

Ang Lee walked beside her, occasionally reaching out to support her arm.

Later, they climbed to the open-air platform on the top floor of a warehouse. The spiral iron ladder creaked as they stepped on it, and at the top, they pushed open an iron gate, and the whole world suddenly unfolded before their eyes.

The entire cityscape of New York City is laid out before you, with ferries moving slowly across the river and skyscrapers on the opposite bank shining like scattered diamonds.

The wind was strong, blowing directly up from the river, making their clothes flutter loudly.

Fineria stood at the edge of the platform, her hand on the iron railing, her long hair being torn into strands by the wind.

"I don't actually want to go back." She finally spoke, her voice slightly ethereal in the wind. "It's not that I don't want to go back tonight... it's that I've never wanted to go back, but I don't know where to go." She gave a bitter smile.

She turned to face Ang Lee. A gust of wind blew from the side, brushing stray hairs across her cheeks; she didn't brush them away, simply looking at him.

Ang Lee took a step forward, stood beside her, and leaned against the railing, quietly keeping her company for a while.

Then he took off his dark red suit jacket, shook it open, and gently draped it over her shoulders; the jacket still carried his body heat.

"Don't think about that tonight," he said. "Just tonight."

The wind was strong. Fineria wrapped her coat tighter around herself, lowered her head, and brushed the warmth of the remaining breath on the collar with the tip of her nose. She didn't say anything more.