September 09, 2026

A Thought That Lasts Forever Chapter 19


The Great Voyage (5)



The night before, in order to wait for the aurora, they had drunk alcohol and stayed up until the middle of the night. It was only natural that the next day they would sleep until noon.

After waking up groggily with a splitting headache, Tan Guhong discovered that someone had already been waiting for her for quite some time.

“Oh my God, Tam, if you don’t get up soon I’m going to storm over and knock on your door!” Sophie complained.

“If you dare knock, I dare dump your body into the open sea!” Tan Guhong blew on the hot tea in her cup, unable to stop herself from yawning again, and asked indistinctly, “What is it?”

“This afternoon there’s a special show at the Star Sea Theater. It’s extremely rare. If you don’t watch it, you’ll regret it for life!”

“Then you go watch it.”

“But it’s so popular that the seats were already fully booked on the first day we boarded.”

“So?”

“Only your gold card allows direct entry into the VIP seats without a reservation…” Sophie rested her chin on her hands, blinking and smiling ingratiatingly. “So, you must take me with you!”

“Alright then.”

In any case, she had nothing planned today, and she also did not particularly want to see someone…

That emotionally stirring temptation from last night was just like how that person had once persistently lured her to board this world-cruising ship. To be honest, it was tempting, too tempting. To say she had remained completely unmoved would be a lie.

But in the end, she neither confirmed nor responded.

She did not agree, nor did she refuse. She simply turned and walked into her room, leaving Luo Jingming alone, still holding the posture of kneeling on one knee, where he remained for a long time.

The Star Sea Theater was a mid-to-small-sized theater on the cruise ship, staging special performances from time to time. Compared to the solemn grandeur of the Royal Grand Theater, it was lighter and more casual, with eclectic programming like a small Broadway theater on the streets of early 1920s New York.

Tan Guhong had guessed that today’s performance would be different, but she still had not expected it to be this different.

“So this is your so-called special show?”

On the second-floor VIP seats, she looked helplessly at Sophie.

“Yes! Tam, don’t have any prejudice against striptease. This isn’t an ordinary striptease. This is Lisa, one of the world’s top dancers. Her performance is a perfect work of art!”

Striptease, that is, erotic dance, or more plainly at this moment, burlesque.

However, as Sophie had said, this performance was indeed different. It did not rely on explicit sexuality as a gimmick, but was instead exquisitely luxurious, like a retro musical revue.

Under elegant music and on a dim, softly lit stage, a woman in a magnificent purple-red gown slowly awakened from a long sofa, full of charm, languid and bewitching.

Black hair, snow-white skin, and bright red lips. Her figure was exquisitely curved, intensely sensual. Surrounded by male dancers in suits, she moved slowly into dance. Every gesture, every glance was filled with temptation and provocation. If there was such a thing as a femme fatale, it was exactly this.

The audience below was utterly awestruck and intoxicated.

When her slender fingers slowly loosened her garments, the venue erupted into wave after wave of screams and cheers, many of them from women.

Sophie also screamed a few times, then turned to Tan Guhong and said, “A lot of Lisa’s fans are women. That just proves she isn’t selling vulgar sex, but a high-end sensory feast. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Tan Guhong admitted sincerely.

This burlesque dancer was indeed beautiful. That intense, sultry allure and the ultimate sensuality of her body transcended gender and sexuality, evoking admiration and longing in everyone. The performance was art, without a doubt.

As another layer of clothing fell away, Lisa remained on stage wearing only high heels, garter stockings, and exquisite lace lingerie. Her graceful figure once again triggered thunderous gasps from the audience.

Sophie let out a moan and lamented, “I really want to sleep with her for one night. Why are there so many beautiful bodies in this world that I can’t have?”

Tan Guhong looked at her in astonishment. “Are you… a lesbian?”

“I like men, but I don’t deny other possibilities…” Sophie shrugged. “Everyone has a latent homosexual tendency. Why let gender restrict love?”

Tan Guhong was momentarily speechless.

Sophie smiled knowingly. “I know, Tam, you’re Eastern. Western and Eastern ideas about love are different. We never overthink things. Whenever, wherever, whoever, if there’s feeling, there’s feeling. Maybe I seem too open to you, but I want to tell you, when love comes, no one can resist it. It is irrational, unrelated to reality. Impulse is its true nature. When you feel bound by your principles and become troubled, why not just shift your thinking a little? Isn’t it better to have a happy relationship without worrying about tomorrow?”

For a moment, Tan Guhong could not tell whether Sophie was talking about whether she would sleep with the world’s top burlesque dancer in front of her, or about something else entirely. Perhaps she had seen through something and was speaking indirectly. Or perhaps she meant only what was in front of her, while thinking of something else, and so it sounded like something else.

But Sophie herself seemed completely unaware. After speaking, she turned back to staring at Lisa on stage and screaming with infatuation.

Although the second-floor VIP seats had a wide view, they were still not as close and immediate as the seats on the first floor. Many people had already abandoned their seats and gathered below the stage, either filming with their phones or eagerly throwing money onto the stage.

Sophie could no longer restrain herself and ran downstairs to squeeze into the crowd in front of the stage.

Tan Guhong, however, was not so captivated. She remained calmly seated in her spot, took a sip of red wine brought by a waiter, and watched coldly as green U.S. dollar bills fell like snow across the stage below.

A familiar figure flickered past in the crowd. Tan Guhong couldn’t help but pause, unsure whether she had mistaken someone else for her. The platinum-blonde woman looked very much like Polina, the one she had encountered earlier in the old castle in San Francisco.

Just as she was about to stand up to get a closer look and confirm, someone sat down tightly beside her in the empty seat to her left.

She didn’t need to turn her head. She already knew who it was. That cool, faint scent of mint had been lingering since last night, around her breath, in her thoughts, at the edges of her mind and heart.

Only then did she realize, faintly, that his habit of eating mint candies was to quit smoking.

She did not turn around. He did not speak. The two of them simply sat side by side, silently watching the performance on stage. No one knew who was truly focused, and who was distracted.

Until his fingertips touched her left hand resting on the armrest. She stiffened slightly, and her attention could no longer stay on the stage.

At first, it was an almost imperceptible touch, a tentative probe. When it met no resistance, it turned into a light caress. He carefully traced every inch of skin on her hand with his fingertips, exploring every corner. Then her hand was slowly covered by his warm palm, gently kneaded, firmly enclosed.

At that moment, Lisa’s dance on stage, which had originally been something Tan Guhong merely observed with detached appreciation, suddenly became indescribably provocative, indescribably ambiguous. The pale flesh under the dim lighting became glaringly conspicuous. Every beat landed on her heart, every movement took on a tangible weight, making her breathing grow uneven and her face warm.

When his fingers finally slipped between hers, she could no longer tolerate it and pulled her hand away. She turned her head sideways to glance at him with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile.

“You’re quite in the mood?”

He did not deny it. Instead, he calmly withdrew his hand and looked at her at his leisure. His features appeared even more refined under the dim, uneven lighting of the theater.

“That question, I think I should be the one asking you.”

After what had happened between them last night, for her to casually come watch a burlesque the next day did seem a little unusual.

Tan Guhong suppressed the impulse to blurt out an explanation of her sexual orientation. She coughed lightly and asked in a low voice:

“Do you need something?”

“Yes, I have some matters to discuss with you.”

“What matters?”

“It’s dinner time now. Why don’t we talk over a meal?” He smiled faintly and asked deliberately, “Or are you insisting on finishing the show?”

Tan Guhong glanced at Lisa on stage, now already completely naked, then looked at Luo Jingming’s faintly smiling expression, and surrendered.

“Fine, fine. Let’s go eat.”

The dinner location was the Starlight Restaurant, which Tan Guhong had already planned to visit on the first day of boarding the ship. Yet now, facing the tempting dishes on the table, she felt entirely indifferent, her full attention fixed on the tablet in front of her.

On the screen was an email: the spring auction catalog from the Edmund Auction House. The auction itself would take place in Liverpool, England, the port city where the Queen Anne would dock the next morning.

“That’s not a coincidence, right?”

Luo Jingming nodded. “It was part of my plan for this trip from the beginning.”

The British Edmund Auction House was one of the world’s top ten long-established auction houses, with a long history and a low-key, restrained style. This spring auction featured a special collection of antique treasures and cultural relics. Some of the items had already been exhibited for several days at the Liverpool Museum, and tomorrow would be the official auction day.

“You’re a senior member of Edmund?”

Tan Guhong asked. The collection list in the email was clearly more complete and detailed than what was publicly exhibited.

“My grandfather is. So are Sotheby’s and Christie’s… to be precise, he is a guest of honor at all the major auction houses worldwide.”

It was widely known that Old Master Liang was fond of collecting, especially Chinese cultural relics. In his youth, he had witnessed the dispersal of Chinese artifacts overseas and resolved to spend his life collecting and preserving them. Over the years, he had invested immense effort and resources into this cause.

“So this time, you participating in the auction is Grandpa Liang’s intention…” Tan Guhong said with some doubt. “Why not just bid over the phone?”

“Others may prefer remote bidding, but I prefer seeing things with my own eyes.”

“So you’re quite the expert yourself?”

He smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying.

Since it was what Old Master Liang wanted to acquire, the Western items on the list could be skipped outright. Tan Guhong scrolled past Caesar’s helmet, the gold coins of Ptolemy III of ancient Egypt, and a Japanese Edo-period black lacquer folding screen with gold decoration, arriving at the section for Chinese artifacts.

Across major international auctions, Chinese antiquities had always been a highlight. After all, a civilization of thousands of years could not be underestimated. At a glance, the list was full of porcelain pieces: a lake-blue-ground butterfly bowl from the Qing Jiaqing period, a blue-and-white bat-pattern plate from the Ming Longqing era, all ceramics of one kind or another.

Tan Guhong shook her head. “Westerners really like these brightly colored famille rose and blue-and-white porcelains.”

“That’s why it’s called China…” Luo Jingming smiled. “You don’t like them?”

“Me? I haven’t studied them, but my grandfather likes celadon.”

“Which kiln?”

“Longquan Di Kiln.”

“Green as jade, bright as a mirror, thin as paper, and resonant as a chime. The old man has refined taste.”

“It’s just a hobby of his. Not as specialized as Grandpa Liang.” Tan Guhong smiled. “So, which piece has Old Master Liang set his sights on this time?”

Luo Jingming kept it deliberately mysterious. “Why don’t you try guessing?”

Fine then, guess it is. In any case, dinner had already been eaten in a perfunctory manner, so Tan Guhong simply sat down on the nearby sofa and began carefully browsing through the entire list from start to finish.

She filtered out a few flashy pieces that only catered to Western tastes in appearance. When she saw a Tang Dynasty diamond-shaped bronze mirror, her fingertips paused slightly, then she skipped past it without hesitation. In the end, she tentatively settled on two items:

A human-height Buddha statue from the Longmen Grottoes of the Wei and Jin period, and a pair of bronze bells from White Horse Temple dating to the Eastern Han Dynasty.

Luo Jingming also sat down beside her. He reached his arm around her to tap the tablet, his posture close enough that it almost looked like he was holding her in his arms.

“One more. This one.”

She lowered her head and saw on the screen a gilt-and-silver incense burner. It looked like an immortal mountain rising from the sea, its form ancient and elegant. But there was very little information, only an approximate date range: around 1 CE to 200 CE, from a private collection, with no valuation listed.

His low voice sounded by her ear: “This is a Boshan incense burner from the late Western Han to Eastern Han period. Its form is very similar to the one excavated from Han tombs in the Hebei Provincial Museum in China. Whether in price or value, it is beyond measure.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Aren’t you afraid of being fooled?”

In the world of antiquities and collectibles, genuine and fake are interwoven and difficult to distinguish. Even international major auction houses cannot be fully trusted.

He said indifferently, “Worth a try.”

She laughed. “Fine. Who told you you’re so rich?”

“Why didn’t you guess this one just now?”

He scrolled back to the Tang Dynasty diamond-shaped bronze mirror she had paused at earlier. The mirror was perfectly preserved, its patterns exquisitely crafted. On the back were engraved eight characters:

“May a thousand autumns and ten thousand years endure; may we never forget each other…”

“The inscription is beautiful,” she said, “but I think Grandpa Liang’s ambitions probably aren’t here.”

She moved the screen back to the image of the White Horse Temple bronze bells, her fingertips hovering lightly over the coiled dragon patterns as she read the inscription softly:

“Favorable weather and timely rains; prosperity for the nation and peace for its people.”

She had once heard her grandfather speak about Old Master Liang’s family history. Though born overseas, he was named “Nianbang” by his mother, meaning “remember the homeland,” never forgetting his country and ancestral homeland. And he had indeed lived up to that name. While living in America for many years, he had devoted himself to protecting the rights and interests of overseas Chinese and Chinese laborers.

During the last century, when the whole world was imposing an economic blockade on mainland China, he defied pressure from the U.S. authorities and resolutely organized large shipments of goods to be transported through Hong Kong into the mainland, easing the country’s urgent shortage of supplies. After the reform and opening-up in the 1980s, he was among the first to return to China and invest heavily in building factories, supporting national development.

That generation of overseas Chinese, no matter how far or how long they had been away from their homeland, always carried it in their hearts.

Favorable weather and timely rains; prosperity for the nation and peace for its people.

That was the lifelong wish of a generation of Chinese shipping magnates.

“Did I guess correctly?”

She turned back and met Luo Jingming’s gaze.

He lowered his eyes, she lifted hers. Their noses almost brushed, like an embrace, yet not quite an embrace; like a kiss, yet not quite a kiss. An ambiguous atmosphere wove itself tightly between them.

His smile was gentle as he said softly, “Completely correct.”

“Then why do you look like that?”

“What do I look like?”

“It feels like you’re plotting something.”

Her gaze was probing.

His smile deepened as he openly admitted, “Yes, I am plotting something.”

He gestured slightly. She instinctively leaned closer to listen. He lowered his voice by her ear:

“I’m plotting what excuse I should use to kiss you.”

As soon as he finished speaking, she felt a sudden warmth on her left ear as he pressed a firm kiss there.

Her whole body trembled. She covered her ear, putting distance between them, and looked at him expressionlessly.

“Plotting complete.”

He smiled innocently, yet shamelessly.

She shot him a glare and stood up to leave, but he pulled her back down, coaxing her gently:

“Alright, don’t be angry. I haven’t finished what I was saying.”

Arms crossed, she stood beside the sofa and looked down at him from above, lifting her chin slightly to signal him to speak quickly.

But he only smiled slowly and said, “You’re right. Completely right. Absolutely right. So right that anyone who even slightly knows my grandfather would see it at a glance. He is absolutely determined to acquire these two pieces.”

Not only the bells, but also the Longmen Buddha statue, one of the most exquisite Buddhist sculptures that were extensively looted and taken overseas in the early twentieth century.

She paused slightly. “You mean… this was all arranged?”

The auction world was full of hidden mechanisms, price manipulation, insider deals, market control. It ran deep. A single strike of the auctioneer’s hammer could mean tens of millions, so it was no joke.

But the man in front of her clearly treated the auction as something casual. Legs crossed, hands clasped loosely over his knee, he sat composed and unhurried, speaking lightly:

“I don’t like sitting around waiting for death. Whether it was arranged or not, we’ll see for ourselves tomorrow.”

✦

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