Here is the translation of the given content: "See the talented women of Tsinghua University" Note: The "" (enter/return for line break) does not need to be translated and is returned as is. All other Chinese text has been translated into English.

Author: Liu Guosheng, Tian Hongjiang
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: The love in the chapter "Love in the Night-Blooming Cactus" has a touch of traditional Chinese painting. It's black and white, with blurred landscapes, yet carries a subtle, profound sweetness and pain. That year, Qin was only 19, a second-year student at the Fine Arts Department, with silk-like skin and clear eyes. She met Yu Dong at her professor's wedding. The wedding was purely Western, not overly noisy, filled with dazzling white orchids and the faint sound of a piano. It was autumn, and large patches of yellow leaves lay quietly, slowly, layer by layer in front of the steps, creating a special sense of sorrow. Qin couldn't help but whisper softly, "It's so similar to a funeral." The middle-aged man standing beside her glanced at her and smiled slightly. He was Yu Dong. On the way back, Yu Dong offered to drive Qin. His car was European-made, comfortable but unassuming. It was a traffic-jammed evening, with the streets filled with rushing cars. Qin uncontrollably spoke many childish things, her voice exceptionally clear and delicate. Yu Dong glanced at her occasionally, smiling silently, reserved and quiet. Then he said, "You are the only girl I've ever met who hasn't been tainted by color. Your aura is truly pure." Just those words alone were moving. Qin was shocked. The next morning, Qin was looking at a wooden guitar in a music store when someone pushed the door open—it was Yu Dong. Qin froze and said, "What a coincidence." "I watched you from outside for about 10 minutes before coming in," Yu Dong said. His gentle yet determined gaze left Qin feeling as if she had suddenly fallen into deep water, powerless. She knew something was about to happen. Yu Dong was already 42, unmarried, had returned from abroad with a Ph.D., and owned a software development company. He was skilled in sketching and printmaking. His girlfriend was of Chinese descent, a classmate of his at Cambridge. Yu Dong occasionally talked about his years in England—the damp cobblestone streets, the endless rain—such a world felt so distant to Qin, like a scene from a movie. And that's how it began. Qin loved night-blooming cacti, and Yu Dong spent three months painting a thick album for her, documenting every pose of the cactus from its first bloom to its withering. The vibrant petals were so beautiful they took one's breath away. When Qin received the album, tears filled her eyes with emotion. Yu Dong suddenly said, "When I was young, I was restless and didn't understand how to love with time. I lost a chance, and there will never be another one." His tone held a desolation that Qin couldn't understand. That winter was long, with continuous rain. One day, Yu Dong took Qin to the riverside and stopped to paint in the drizzle. He slowly said, "I'm old now. At my age, many things are too late to change." He paused and then added, "I'm getting married." He said it so calmly, as if narrating something unrelated, like "Monday morning meeting." His head rested on the steering wheel, and he didn't speak for a long time. Close enough for Qin to feel his struggle and hesitation. It began at a wedding and ended at another, with the same white attire, the same flowers, and the same piano music. Yu Dong's new wife was thin, with a delicate and exquisite face, but weary and slightly haggard. She glanced at Qin, uninterested, and then turned away. They were a match—both cold and distant. In that instant, Qin felt extremely tired and walked away alone, leaving behind her initial joy and pain. P12-13