Chapter 103

The final thousand kilometers, two thousand li of road. The Golmud River, Kunlun River, Tuotuo River, Nagqu, high mountains, meadows, snowfields, herds of yaks, sheep, horses, wild wolves, stray dogs, sky burials—the sky meeting the earth, clouds as curtains, a world like an ink-splashed painting. On Shang Zhitao’s bucket list before turning thirty, one item was to visit Tibet.

She achieved it, together with Luan Nian.

From then on, Tibet was no longer just words and pictures in books, but something truly seen and felt.

As the altitude slowly rose, Shang Zhitao still felt unwell, but she could endure it. Luan Nian took care of her the whole time and hardly lost his temper, but his mouth remained sharp. For example, when Shang Zhitao said, “Can we bring some butter tea back?”

Luan Nian replied, “You don’t know how to shop online, do you?”

And so it went, too many instances to list.

After bickering and squabbling all the way, the two finally arrived in Lhasa.

All the place names she had once seen in books and online now unfolded before her eyes: Barkhor Street, the Potala Palace, milk tea, yak meat, pilgrims with dark red faces, the clean, clear eyes of Tibetan girls like little beasts, and the snow-white teeth of young men when they smiled. The people here spoke of their faith with immense piety; when the spirit is satisfied, the heart is enriched.

They stayed at an inn on Barkhor Street, with a bookstore below and a folk music bar next door. The Tibetan dogs here were particularly majestic. Luke placed his front paws on the low windowsill, wanting to go out and play with his companions.

“Are you stupid?” Luan Nian finally couldn’t help scolding him. “You don’t even know how to fight, and you want to play with Tibetan dogs? They’d bite you to death in one bite.”

Luke tilted his head, processing for a long time, then barked twice: “You’re lying! They’re all my friends!” Just like a stubborn son arguing with his parents.

The two found a milk tea shop to drink tea, securing a spot on the flat rooftop with a view of half of Lhasa below. Shang Zhitao wore a wide-brimmed hat, and Luan Nian wore a baseball cap, yet they still felt the intense ultraviolet rays.

Shang Zhitao’s skin was a bit sunburned. She felt she no longer looked good, but Luan Nian said, “Was beauty ever your strong suit anyway?”

“Then what is my strong suit?” Shang Zhitao retorted.

“Good in bed?” Luan Nian glanced at her. Everything about Tibet was great—the scenery, the people—except the nights. Holding someone like her, he couldn’t do anything, afraid she’d feel unwell.

Shang Zhitao’s face flushed instantly. Luan Nian’s gaze fell on her, burning through her clothes and searing her skin.

“Luan Nian.”

“?”

“Can you stop looking at me? Look over there.” Shang Zhitao pointed below, where someone was taking Tibetan-style photos. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Luan Nian curled his lip.

Shang Zhitao wanted to take photos and have Luan Nian join her. Resting her chin on her hand, she watched for a long time before asking softly, “Luan Nian, how many times is this for you in Lhasa?”

“The third.”

“You’ve been to Lhasa three times and never taken photos like that? Then what did you come here for?”

“…” Luan Nian was momentarily stunned by Shang Zhitao’s question. He had never imagined that one day he’d be stumped by such a thoughtless question.

“Do I have to take those kinds of photos when I come to Lhasa?” he shot back.

“Yeah, otherwise?”

Luan Nian waved his hand. “Go ahead if you want. I’m not taking any.”

“Then you won’t even go with me?”

“I can go with you.”

“Then let’s go now!”

Shang Zhitao pulled Luan Nian out the door and found a photo studio. She went inside to pick out clothes while Luan Nian waited outside with Luke.

As she browsed the outfits, Shang Zhitao asked the shop owner, "Do you have models? Male models who can take photos with me?"

"Yes, for an extra fee. They're all Tibetan men, very handsome."

"I want an especially handsome one!"

"With my dog! Couple photos!"

Shang Zhitao raised her voice, glancing outside. Sure enough, Luan Nian walked in. He shot her a glare, pinched a few garments between his index and middle fingers with a disdainful expression. The shop owner looked at Shang Zhitao, who winked back at her.

"Which ones have you picked?" Luan Nian asked her.

Shang Zhitao showed him the clothes draped over her arm: "This one, this one, and this one."

Luan Nian glanced over them and pulled out a few sets.

"Luke is going to take photos too? Didn't you say this is tacky? Didn't you say you'd never take these touristy photos?" Shang Zhitao continued provoking him, undeterred.

Luan Nian gave her a cold, piercing glare, took the clothes, and headed to the fitting room. Shang Zhitao followed him, standing outside the door, and said, "You don't have to force yourself, you know! The owner said the models are very handsome too, I could still get good photos!"

"And I don't think we'd necessarily look good together in photos!"

"I think I'd be better off taking photos with a model."

Shang Zhitao stood outside the door, deliberately annoying him. The fitting room door opened, revealing Luan Nian dressed in Tibetan attire. Shang Zhitao inwardly exclaimed, "Holy shit," feeling a sudden burst of excitement. Heaven really was biased, giving him a physique that looked good in anything.

The shop owner walked over, giving a thumbs-up: "I've never seen such a handsome Tibetan young man."

Luan Nian remained indifferent to the praise, glancing disdainfully at Shang Zhitao: "No makeup?"

Makeup it is!

Shang Zhitao applied a Tibetan girl's makeup—rosy cheeks, two thick braids, exaggerated Tibetan headpieces, and Tibetan silver bracelets on her wrists. Smiling, she asked Luan Nian, "How do I look?" Her white teeth stood out even more, making her look genuinely like a Tibetan girl—rustic and earthy.

Luan Nian raised an eyebrow, picked up one of her braids to weigh it—quite heavy—and let it go.

While Shang Zhitao took solo photos, Luan Nian stood to the side and watched. He didn't quite understand why women had such enthusiasm for taking photos. Shang Zhitao let the photographer pose her—now bowing, now kneeling—looking utterly ridiculous.

He stood to the side and said to Luke, "See that? Your mom's gone crazy." He considered himself Luke's father and called Shang Zhitao Luke's mother, completely unaware of how intimate the terms "mom" and "dad" were.

When the makeup artist patted powder on his face, he frowned, clearly displeased. Before he could protest, Shang Zhitao spoke up: "Wow! With the powder, you look even more like a tough guy!"

When it came time for the group photos, he didn't need the photographer's instructions—just standing casually made for great shots. The photographer, having an easy day, was in a good mood. He said to them, "Husband, lean a little closer to your wife."

"Wife, smile a little."

"Husband and wife, pray together..."

"Have the dog sit down and smile together."

He kept calling them "husband" and "wife," a professional habit he'd somehow developed. Shang Zhitao felt awkward and finally waved her hand to clarify when the photographer asked the husband to hold the wife: "We're not husband and wife..." She was afraid Luan Nian would refuse too directly and embarrass everyone.

"We're not..."

Before the sound of "no" could fully leave her lips, she was already lifted into the air. Staring at Luan Nian in surprise, his eyes met her panicked gaze—there was no impatience there, only a hint of amusement. The photographer, skilled at capturing moments, snapped several shots in quick succession, then reminded Shang Zhitao, "Don’t stiffen up, relax a little."

Shang Zhitao felt uneasy, unsure what "relax a little" meant. Luan Nian teased her softly, "Aren’t you usually quite soft?"

After speaking, he kissed the corner of her lips and gently set her down.

Altitude sickness, after all—handle with care!

Was this what love felt like?

Shang Zhitao secretly messaged Sun Yu: "I think I’m experiencing first love. My heart flutters every time he looks at me."

"I’ve looked at him for so many years, yet I’ve never grown tired of him. I’ve slept with him for so many years, yet I’ve never grown tired of it either. Why is that?"

"And also, why is he so gentle? So gentle it doesn’t seem like him."

Shang Zhitao felt like she was back in her teens, secretly confiding her feelings to a close friend. Sun Yu watched her messages pour in one after another and finally couldn’t help but say, "Tao Tao, you’re truly in love."

Shang Zhitao put away her phone and hurried to the computer, thinking every photo looked beautiful. She stood there selecting for several minutes. Luan Nian couldn’t stand her wasting time like this and asked the shop owner, "How much extra to keep all the photos?"

"No need for extra payment, but could we choose one to hang in the shop?" The owner had run a photography studio in Lhasa for many years and rarely captured such perfect photos. The subtle, indescribable intimacy in their eyes, the man’s striking handsomeness, and the girl’s quietly captivating charm—they were a perfect match.

"Then you’ll have to pay me," Luan Nian glanced at the owner. You really know how to do business, your calculations are sharp. But a few seconds later, he changed his mind: "You can pick one, but it must be hung in the center of the shop. Use premium photo paper, and I’ll inspect it once it’s framed." He spoke seriously, leaving no room for compromise. Yet the owner was already delighted—one photo was enough. Happily, he gave all the negatives to Shang Zhitao and said to her, "Don’t worry, miss. With photos this good, the retouching will be excellent. Just wait to receive them. Once they’re developed, you can keep them at home—they could even serve as wedding photos. Tibetans often use these for wedding photos."

Shang Zhitao didn’t know how to respond to the owner’s excessive enthusiasm and simply murmured in agreement. She packed the digital copies into her bag and walked out with Luan Nian. At the door, Luan Nian turned back and asked the owner, "Will it be hung there?"

He pointed to the most prominent spot in the shop. The owner nodded, "Yes, it can hang there for many years. It’ll be hard to find photos better than these."

They walked out of the photography studio and crossed the street, both glancing back. From then on, on the bustling Barkhor Street, any passerby who paused for a moment would see the large photo hanging inside the studio.

It was a memento of love between a man and a woman.

In the prime of their youth, deeply in love.

After staying in Lhasa for two days, they drove to Nyingchi. Luan Nian had booked a hotel there, saying it was perfect for someone like Shang Zhitao with altitude sickness—because there was nothing to do but lie in bed, draw back the curtains, and see snow-capped mountains, lakes, and forests. They planned to relax in the hotel for two days before beginning their journey back.

Shang Zhitao trusted Luan Nian’s judgment.

He hadn’t lost his temper during the trip, nor had he left her alone in Lhasa. He had become the most trustworthy person in Shang Zhitao’s heart.

It was in a hotel in Linzhi. Shang Zhitao sat on the couch basking in the sun when Old Shang and Da Zhai called to ask about her trip. She answered each question one by one: "It's great, the scenery is beautiful, the food is delicious, I didn't suffer much from altitude sickness, and Luke is having a lot of fun."

"Then who exactly did you go with? A boyfriend?" Shang Zhitao glanced at Luan Nian, who was sprawled on the sofa across from her. The Linzhi sunlight fell on half of his face, making him look unusually calm and even serene.

After a moment's thought, she said, "Yes, my boyfriend."

Da Zhai's exclamation nearly shattered her eardrum: "You're in a relationship? Since when? What does your boyfriend do? Is his family well-off? Is he healthy? What kind of person is he?"

Faced with so many questions, Shang Zhitao was clearly at a loss, unsure where to begin. Luan Nian stood up from the sofa, walked over to her, took the phone, and said calmly and respectfully, "Hello, Auntie, I'm Luan Nian."

He answered all of Da Zhai's questions—age, height, income. When it came to income, he heard Da Zhai whisper to Old Shang, "Isn't it a bit too high? It might be suspicious..."

So he thought for a moment and said, "Less than two million a year," significantly downplaying the amount.

In this back-and-forth exchange, he laid out all his personal details. Shang Zhitao pursed her lips and looked at the shimmering light on the lake outside, feeling her eyes grow warm, as if tears might fall at any moment.

As Sun Yu would say: Perseverance pays off, and the clouds part to reveal the moon.

That night, she was intoxicated by the moonlight and snuggled into Luan Nian's arms, feeling that with such beautiful scenery, they should do something. Luan Nian firmly pressed her hands to the side of her head, locked his legs around hers, and threatened her fiercely, "Behave yourself! Otherwise, I'll throw you out to feed the wolves!"

"I want to."

"Get your breathing under control first!" Luan Nian pinched her cheek. "Don't touch me, or if something happens, I'll have to clean up your mess."

"I'm doing okay today," Shang Zhitao clung to him again, only to be firmly held back by Luan Nian. "Get lost!"

He told her to get lost, yet he pressed against her rigidly, as if he wanted to crush her. Through gritted teeth, he whispered in her ear, "I really want to kill you!"

He pushed her away and went to sleep on the sofa.

Once he left, Shang Zhitao felt empty again. She teased him, "Let me help you."

"No need."

"Then can we talk for a while?"

"Mm."

"Let's start from the beginning of the universe..." As soon as Shang Zhitao finished speaking, she heard Luan Nian snort. "Don't laugh," she protested. "I meant from the first time I saw you..."

It was the summer of 2010. She was sitting in the lobby on the first floor of Lingmei when Luan Nian pushed open the back door of the café and walked out, looking like a gentleman with impeccable style. At that moment, Shang Zhitao thought, "Is this the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life?"

She rambled on, and Luan Nian listened quietly. Eventually, she grew a little sleepy but still persisted, asking Luan Nian, "What about you? What did you think of me the first time you saw me?"

Luan Nian thought for a long time before saying four words: "Like an idiot."

A big idiot.

The trip to Tibet ended, and with this journey, the rest of the year no longer felt difficult. Shang Zhitao printed a few of their photos together and tucked them into her book, occasionally flipping through them and feeling content.

And so, another year passed just like that.

Another year like this, Shang Zhitao returned to Ice City, while Luan Nian went to the United States, and they wouldn’t see each other again for another two or three months.

That year, fireworks were banned in Ice City, with only a few sporadic firecrackers heard. Luke sat by the window, utterly bewildered—where had all the dazzling colors gone? Shang Zhitao comforted it, "The era of setting off fireworks is over, but maybe in a few years, it’ll be allowed again. At least there’s still your favorite snow here."

Luke barked once, and Shang Zhitao understood, but what was missing here was its favorite Luke.

Across the ocean, Luan Nian seemed to have heard Luke’s bark and, for the first time ever, sent Shang Zhitao a New Year’s greeting: "Happy New Year. Would you like to watch the aurora together next year?"

Shang Zhitao stared at the message for a long time before chuckling softly.

Happy New Year. As long as it’s with you, I’d go to the ends of the earth.

2015 had passed, and they would forever cherish its memory.