A Love Letter from Lhasa 20
Chapter 19: Annie’s Doctoral Dissertation
01
Annie entered Professor Li Jianhua’s research office. Li picked up a bound draft and said:
“Annie, I’ve read your new dissertation topic and outline in detail. Structurally, there are no obvious flaws. However, I’m not an expert in rhetoric, so I can’t advise on that. You may consider switching supervisors; Professor Liang Wenqing in the literature department specializes in rhetoric and is a good choice.”
“But Uncle, I don’t know Professor Liang,” Annie replied.
“I can call him for you. I’m on good terms with Liang and often travel with him.”
“Uncle, I worry that changing the topic crosses boundaries…” Annie expressed her concern.
Li analyzed: “It’s true that this topic leans more toward literature. But interdisciplinary research is common; art and literature aren’t strictly separated. Don’t worry about thesis review for faculty recruitment. Your cross-disciplinary research may even impress the committee, showing your literary skills.”
“So should I audit Professor Liang’s classes first? I’ve self-studied rhetoric and grammar before.”
“That’s good. Rhetoric is one of your main methodologies; mastering it will strengthen your argument. It also leaves a good impression on Professor Liang. He studied Chinese at Peking University, is rigorous, and demands a lot. But having him supervise your dissertation will be a plus for your academic career. Once I schedule a meeting, you can take your outline to him.”
Annie bowed: “Thank you, Uncle, for arranging everything.”
Li smiled: “No need to be formal! By the way, did you and Huaimin have a spat last night?”
Annie apologized: “Sorry to worry you, Uncle.”
“At the time, he was like a headless fly, very anxious! I could tell he cares about you.”
“Last night I talked with Huaimin; he agreed to go back to Taiwan with me at the end of the month to face that girl together.”
Li was relieved: “Good. A married couple should support each other and face problems together. I’ll arrange a meeting with Professor Liang; wait for my call at home.”
02
In the evening at the Cangyang residence, the couple had dinner together.
“Annie, I want to close my portrait stall and focus on language studies at home on weekends.”
“I understand; with your Disney work, it’s hard to manage.”
“What did Professor Li say about your dissertation outline?”
“He said it’s cross-disciplinary and suggested Professor Liang from the literature department as my advisor.”
“The new topic leans more toward textual research.”
“That’s fine; I’ve studied rhetoric and grammar before. Remember the poem I sent you from Lhasa?”
Huaimin smiled: “That poem was very good; I could sense your concerns.”
“Actually, since middle school, I’ve been writing Chinese and English poems and essays, submitting them to newspapers.”
Huaimin was amazed: “Oh? My wife is a writer!”
“Not really, just casual writing as a pastime. After dinner, I’ll show you my clippings.”
“Tomorrow on the way back, I’ll buy some strawberry seedlings.”
“Bring two bags of rice bran and chicken fertilizer too; the strawberries and cherry and apple trees in the backyard need soil and fertilizer—they’re about to bloom.”
“I also want to buy more cherry and apple saplings to try in Alishan. The climate there is high, cool, and humid; they should grow.”
“Sure! You can’t escape your farmer nature. Here, have a bowl of aiyu jelly chicken soup.”
Annie scooped a bowl and handed it to Huaimin.
In the living room, Huaimin leaned back in his chair, flipping through Annie’s clippings while Annie hung clothes on the balcony.
“Huaimin, when we return to Taiwan, speak clearly with Miss Tang. Ask her to let you go. After all, I’m just an interloper, even if I didn’t know beforehand.”
“Alright, I’m prepared,” Huaimin said. “You mentioned changing supervisors. You can bring this clipping book to show Professor Liang so he knows you’re not a literature novice; he’ll respect you more.”
“Wouldn’t that be showing off in front of the master?”
Huaimin shook his finger: “Not necessarily! I think your writing is excellent.”
03
Walking through the literature department corridor, Annie arrived at Professor Liang’s office.
“Professor, I’m Annie.”
Liang stood: “Come in.”
Annie entered; Liang said: “Sit and relax.”
Annie sat on the sofa. Liang asked: “Tea or coffee?”
“Tea, thank you.”
Liang poured two cups: “Please have some.”
“Thanks, Professor.” Annie lifted the cup.
“Senior Jianhua has always helped me since I came to Berkeley. He asked me to assist him. He said you’re the granddaughter of his mentor and the daughter of a close friend, and an outstanding student at the Art Research Institute.” Liang sipped tea: “I treat all students the same, holding the same standards.”
“Yes! Professor Li has always been strict,” Annie said, presenting her dissertation outline and clipping portfolio.
“Let me see.” Liang removed his glasses and quickly scanned the outline: “Concepts are clear; you’ve studied rhetoric and grammar.”
“I self-studied for interest.”
Liang reviewed the clippings, page by page, eyes bright, smiling: “So the writer Annie Ya is you. I’ve read most of your published works. When I was a newspaper editor, I even reviewed one of your poems.”
Annie humbly: “Professor, you overpraise me!”
Liang, serious: “You have talent, genuinely. Few literature students can research and create at such a level. With your work quality, you’ll have a place in literary history.”
Blushing, Annie sipped her tea: “Professor, may I audit your rhetoric class?”
“Of course! Teaching talented students is a joy!”
Annie placed three boxes of local gifts on the desk: “From home, as a token of respect.”
Liang smiled: “Thank you. I’ll read your outline and call you.”
“I’ll return to Taiwan with my husband soon, possibly for half a month.”
“Alright! Then we’ll schedule a meeting at year-end to discuss your dissertation outline.”
04
In the yard, the couple busied themselves separately. Annie took a small shovel to fertilize and cover the soil of the strawberry field, while Huaimin took a large spade and hoe to loosen the soil under the apple and cherry trees, poured in rice bran and fertilizer, mixed it well, and then covered it with a thin layer of soil.
When Annie finished her task, she stood up, went to the door, and carried a pot of chilled lemon aiyu (jelly fig) drink to Huaimin. “Take a break!” she said, pouring a cup of the drink for him. Huaimin finished it in three quick sips.
“These old trees—aren’t they over fifty years old?” he asked.
“Yes, the previous owner planted them. When my grandmother bought this property, they were already flowering and bearing fruit every year,” Annie replied.
“Americans really know how to enjoy life—they plant fruit trees in their yards.”
“Actually, it’s pretty much the same anywhere. Suburban residents value quality of life and keep yards. In the city, land is so expensive, it’s all used for commercial buildings and apartments,” Annie explained.
Huaimin complained, “Our yard is so small, it only fits two cars. During coffee and tea harvests, the cars have to be parked outside, and the small yard isn’t enough for drying the beans and leaves.”
Annie suggested, “Then buy another plot of land and design the space yourself!”
“That’s the only solution, but convincing my parents to leave the tribe might take a lot of talking,” Huaimin replied.
Annie smiled: “They like being around family and friends—it’s natural.”




