Chapter 40 As evening fell, they finally arrived…
As evening fell, they finally arrived at Xinduqiao. This small town, at an altitude of over 3,300 meters, nestled quietly in a wide valley. They found a Tibetan-style guesthouse. The room had a warm fireplace, and the windows offered views of the mountains and the starry sky.
He handed the camera to Ren Xiyao: "Look."
Ren Xiyao took the camera and quietly flipped through the photos. When she saw the picture of herself at the mountain pass, her fingers paused for a moment. In the photo, she gazed into the distance, with a sense of vastness and peace that she herself was unaware of.
"The photos...are pretty good," she said softly.
Kwon Ji-yong gazed at her cheeks, flushed red by the firelight, his heart surging with emotion. This was a long-lost feeling of freedom; he was certain of how much he cherished the girl beside him. He knew this trip to western Sichuan was no longer just about companionship and protection, but a mutual fulfillment and healing.
Under the vast starry sky of the plateau, the night was warm and peaceful. Quan Zhilong looked at Ren Xiyao, feeling a peace and contentment he had never experienced before. Tomorrow, a new journey awaited, and he was incredibly grateful for every moment spent with her. This overflowing joy, these simple moments focused solely on a single goal, were so fulfilling.
The first rays of sunlight on the plateau awakened Xinduqiao from its slumber, but had not yet completely dispelled the chill of the night. A thin layer of morning frost gently covered the window, etching unique patterns. Ren Xiyao woke up early and sat quietly by the window, watching the outlines of the distant mountains gradually become clear in the dim morning light, her fingers unconsciously tracing the cool windowpane. She watched the changing light and shadows outside the window gradually become clearer.
Over the past few days, Ren Xiyao could clearly sense that Quan Zhilong was opening himself up to her without reservation, like a passionate child. Her own emotional expression, however, was always delayed and restrained; she was used to shielding herself with calm and rationality, especially after her injury, forcing herself to be coldly rational in every single moment. The night Quan Zhilong arrived was the only time she lost control of her emotions in front of others. She said she wanted him to leave. But deep down, she longed for his exclusive affection, and Quan Zhilong understood.
Kwon Ji-yong was awakened by the sunlight streaming in. He opened his eyes groggily, momentarily disoriented. Unlike the familiar blackout curtains and city noise of his Seoul apartment, here there was only extreme quiet and blinding light. He stretched, his joints making a slight cracking sound, and then immediately saw Ren Xiyao by the window.
She wore a simple sweater and windproof pants, her long hair casually pulled back. The lines of her profile appeared particularly distant in the morning light, yet carried an imperceptible sense of fragmentation. She seemed to be looking at the scenery, or perhaps lost in thought. Kwon Ji-yong quietly got up, walked behind her, and with a touch of sleepy languor, gently wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
"Good morning." His chin rested on the crook of her neck, his warm breath brushing against her skin.
Unlike her stiff demeanor yesterday, Ren Xiyao seemed more accustomed to this greeting today: "Good morning." They weren't living separately anymore. On the first night Quan Zhilong arrived, overwhelmed by strong emotions, they couldn't bear to let go. Bringing it up again later would seem deliberate, so they both silently maintained their boundaries, not overstepping them. They also cherished this hard-won extended period of time together.
Kwon Ji-yong nuzzled against her neck and whispered, "What are you thinking about?"
"It's nothing," Ren Xiyao tilted her head slightly and adjusted her posture: "Watching the sunrise, thinking about the journey of today."
Nestled in his arms, she felt the warmth emanating from his body and the undisguised intimacy and affection. In the secluded western Sichuan, far from the hustle and bustle, seeing the unreserved love in his eyes, she began to set aside the calm and rationality she had maintained these past few days and slowly savor this affection.
“I’ve already checked the route,” Kwon Ji-yong raised an eyebrow with a boastful smile. “Today we’ll be crossing several high mountain passes to get to Litang, the ‘world’s highest city.’” He deliberately used Chinese, his pronunciation a little awkward but endearing, yet full of sincerity. His Chinese had improved considerably these days; sometimes he could even exchange a few sentences with Ren Xiyao.
She chuckled involuntarily, a hint of longing in her voice: "Litang, the place that Tsangyang Gyatso longed for."
A new journey officially began. Heading west along National Highway 318, the car soon began to spiral upwards, entering the famous "Eighteen Bends of the Heavenly Road." The highway, like a giant dragon, wound its way through the mountains, each sharp bend testing driving skills while also offering breathtakingly beautiful scenery. Kwon Ji-yong, sitting in the passenger seat, couldn't help but exclaim in amazement as he watched the snow-capped mountains and deep valleys constantly shifting in angle outside the window.
"Wow...this road is insane!" He took out his camera and started snapping pictures of the scenery outside the window.
Ren Xiyao gripped the steering wheel, her expression focused yet also excited. Her driving skills were excellent, smoothly navigating each curve.
"The altitude rises very quickly here, so be careful with your breathing and breathe slowly," she reminded her.
"Why are you such a good driver? You're not that old." Kwon Ji-yong put down his camera and looked at her curiously.
"I like it," Ren Xiyao said casually. "I like road trips, it's a hobby. I told you before. It was my 18th birthday present to myself. After getting my driver's license, I went to Tibet to see the stars."
Kwon Ji-yong was slightly taken aback; her world seemed to be even richer than he had imagined.
After navigating the winding mountain road, the altitude continued to climb, and they soon arrived at the Kazila Mountain Pass. At an altitude of 4718 meters, a cold wind howled, and prayer flags fluttered in the wind. They got out of the car, and the biting cold wind instantly enveloped them. Kwon Ji-yong couldn't help but shrink his neck; altitude sickness gave him a slight headache, and his breathing became rapid.
I noticed Ren Xiyao; she seemed to be in much better spirits today. She took a deep breath, gazing at the distant, snow-capped mountains and the vast expanse of sky and earth, her eyes clear and serene. Countless colorful prayer flags danced wildly in the wind, a prayer connecting heaven and earth to all living beings.
Even though I had seen similar scenes yesterday, I still felt awe, and each flutter of the prayer flags resonated strangely with my soul, prompting different reflections.
“These are ‘wind horse flags’ hanging here.” Ren Xiyao bent down to look at the pattern on them.
Kwon Ji-yong stood beside her, watching the fluttering prayer flags: "It's amazing... Although my faith is different, I can feel the power here, a very ancient and pure belief." He paused, looked at her, his eyes seemingly sparkling with starlight: "Just like the feeling you give me. Pure."
Ren Xiyao did not avoid his gaze, but sighed softly, "We are all just passersby on this land. It is already lucky to be able to feel its blessing."
Kwon Ji-yong stood up, squinted at the winding highway in the distance, hesitated for a moment, and then asked cautiously, "Doesn't it look like the curves on your short track?"
Kwon Ji-yong suddenly covered her mouth: "We're still on a date, Ren Xiyao."
She blinked, her tongue unconsciously licking his palm. Kwon Ji-yong recoiled as if burned, his ears instantly turning red.
"Let's go," Ren Xiyao turned and walked into the car, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Litang is still a three-hour drive away."
Kwon Ji-yong caught up with her: "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
"What?"
"……never mind."
In the afternoon, we finally arrived in Litang County. This small town, at an altitude of over 4,000 meters, is known as the "City in the Sky." Under the winter sun, it appeared serene and solemn. In the distance, houses on the hillside were stacked one on top of another, their white walls and red roofs standing out against the backdrop of the snow-covered peaks.
We drove to Changqing Chunke'er Monastery in the north of the city. This Gelugpa monastery is the largest in southern Kham, built against the mountainside, and is magnificent. The golden roof gleamed in the sunlight, and the red walls were solemn and dignified.
"Can you go in and take a look?" Ren Xiyao tilted her head slightly to look at Quan Zhilong.
Kwon Ji-yong nodded as he tidied his wind-blown hair.
Stepping into the temple, the air is filled with the unique aroma of butter lamps and incense. Monks, dressed in crimson robes, walk briskly or chant sutras in hushed tones. The temple's architecture, murals, and sculptures all exude a strong Tibetan Buddhist artistic atmosphere.
Kwon Ji-yong's gaze was immediately drawn to the exquisite murals and Thangkas. As someone with a fervent love for modern art, he had frequented major art museums around the world, admiring countless avant-garde works. His own creations were also filled with avant-garde and experimental elements. But at this moment, facing these ancient works of art imbued with religious symbolism, he felt a completely different kind of awe.
"What are these?" he asked Ren Xiyao in a low voice, pointing to a painting depicting a story of Buddha.
“Thangka is a unique form of painting art in Tibetan culture.” Ren Xiyao’s voice was also very low, with reverence for the place: “The pigments used to paint Thangka are all taken from natural minerals and plants, such as gold, silver, coral, agate, turquoise, cinnabar and so on. These can remain unchanged for hundreds or even thousands of years. The painting process is very complicated, requiring not only superb skills from the painter, but also a devout heart.”
She meticulously explained to him the symbolic meanings of the different figures on the Thangka: the hand gestures of Buddha, the implements of Bodhisattvas, the majesty of guardian deities… Her voice was calm and clear, as if telling an ancient and mysterious story. He watched Ren Xiyao's focused explanation; her eyes sparkled with understanding and appreciation for these ancient arts. He suddenly realized that her "purity" wasn't merely a simple and direct personality, but rather an ability to see the essence of things and not be misled by superficial appearances. She could appreciate the ultimate beauty of speed and skill on the ice rink, and also immerse herself in the tranquil solemnity of ancient Thangkas.
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