Here is the English translation of the given content: "See the talented women of Peking 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: Sex is the peak experience of life
Sex is the peak experience of life. I have never felt bungee jumping, roller coasters, or even landing on the moon or Mars as thrilling as sex. That materialized thrill is all visible and tangible, all the shock comes from gravity or extreme physical distances. Sex happens under normal temperature and conditions, yet the shock it brings to women surpasses the thrill of leaping from a very high cliff. In my life, writing and sex are equally important. No mature woman can live without sex; a life without sex is one that withers quickly. Life needs nourishment; our bodies, our skin, our bones, our hearts, our organs—all need the nourishment of sexual love to grow healthily.
Loving a man ultimately means being with him. This "together" may defy certain conventional norms, it may come suddenly, it may be chaotic, and it may happen before you're ready. But no matter what, you are together. Perhaps at some time in the afternoon as dusk approaches, you walk into a room, whether luxurious or simple, bright or dim. After a soft door creak, you finally come together. In the room are two people who have longed for this moment—a man and a woman. Your lives are at their prime, passion, strength, impulse—all have accumulated to this point. The long road of life has been nothing but a process, a prelude, with only this moment as the culmination, the essence, the highest state of life.
The room's light grows dimmer, and you see a blurred silhouette of a face. This is the person you've thought of for so long, the one you've called countless times—their fiery passion nearly melted the metal phone line between you. Distance is the best way to accumulate love. The barriers of time, distance, and human-made obstacles separate us; we live, and are constantly fenced out by invisible barriers on the other side of our desires. We gaze at a man far away, quietly waiting for his arrival.
Night is approaching quickly, the world alternating between black and white, the entire city agitated, the flow of cars moving silently past the window. You and he lie quietly on a plain white bed in front of the window, separated from the bustling street by only a thin layer of transparent glass, yet those flowing scenes seem unrelated to the still you. The curtain with tassels falls gracefully to the floor, full of tenderness. The moment his hand touches your skin, your skin ignites like fire. Blood surges through a woman's body like a river, and it is the man's hand that ignites this fire, activating the energy core within her. Like molten lava erupting from a volcano, it flows out, touching his face and hands, his hair and organs. He ignites the woman while being ignited by her. They cover each other's bodies, leaving no space between them. He finally reaches the deepest part of her—lubricated and profound, both fiery and cool. They fit together, interlocking, biting into each other. This moment of joy is the most complete joy in the world. The long journey of life, the long future—so long as this moment is the foundation, no matter how painful, it is all worth it.
P45-46