Zhong Hua's shoulders were trembling. When Ah Yu let go of her, he saw ice crystals clinging to her eyelashes, like a miniature snowfall. "Tomorrow we're going to Namtso." He helped her tie her scarf to her chin, his fingertips brushing against the bodhi seed on her wrist. "Dunzhu said the lake there can reflect a person's true heart."
Zhong Hua developed a high fever that night. Ah Yu stayed by her bedside, listening to her muttering words that repeatedly mentioned "recording pen," "fire," and "Gu Yanting." When he placed a damp towel on her forehead, he noticed a red mark on her clenched palm—from when she tied the red string during the day, where the copper ring had pressed against it.
As dawn broke, Zhong Hua's fever finally broke. She opened her eyes and saw Ah Yu asleep by the bedside, a red string clutched in his hand, the character "Yu" on the silver bell gleaming in the morning light. She quietly untied her own red string and tied it together with his, then hung the two strings on the prayer wheel at the head of the bed.
The prayer wheel spun in the wind, its two red strings intertwined and turning, the clinking of silver bells sounding like someone whispering a wish. Zhong Hua touched the scar behind his ear and suddenly felt that the scar was no longer an ugly mark, but a medal—a commemoration of those days when he held a torch in the darkness and finally reached the foot of the snow-capped mountain.
When Ah Yu woke up, she saw Zhong Hua smiling at the prayer wheel. Her red string and his red string were intertwined in a knot, looking like a newly blooming Gesang flower in the morning light. He was about to speak when he saw her turn around and take out a silver box from her bag, inside which was a ring she had bought in Tibet.
"After we've circled these mountains three times," she said, placing the ring in his hand. The warmth of her fingertips made his heart skip a beat. "Let's go to Africa to find Wanqing. She always says she'll teach us the bonfire dance."
Ah Yu gripped the ring tightly and discovered three tiny letters engraved on the inside: Z, Y, and L. The prayer wheel was still turning, the silver bells on the red rope sang softly, and the distant snow-capped mountains were slowly melting in the morning sun. The meltwater formed streams, like a silver ribbon, quietly connecting the three people separated by oceans.
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