1

The doctors at Qinggang Hospital’s diagnosis had not been wrong. After multiple consultations in the provincial capital, the newborn was diagnosed with Tetralogy of Fallot combined with atrial septal defect and underdeveloped left ventricle—an extremely complex form of congenital heart disease that required surgical treatment.

Chen Zihui refused to give up hope. She went to great lengths to invite two renowned national experts for another consultation, but the conclusion remained the same. The experts told her that this disease varied greatly from case to case—it could manifest as pulmonary artery atresia or near-atresia with extensive collateral vessels, or merely as ventricular septal defect accompanied by mild stenosis of the outflow tract or pulmonary valve. Therefore, surgical outcomes also varied considerably.

One expert spoke very directly, frankly telling them that most children with Tetralogy of Fallot have satisfactory systemic blood oxygen saturation at birth, with hypoxia symptoms progressing gradually before cyanosis appears. However, this child exhibited severe symptoms immediately after birth. The surgery would be extremely painful for the child, with many postoperative complications and higher mortality and disability rates compared to other cardiac surgeries. The family must prepare themselves mentally.

Chen Zihui’s vision went dark, and she needed Gao Xiang’s support to stand steady. But her attitude was firm—even if there was only a thread of hope, they must try their utmost and never give up.

Regarding treatment, the experts offered different opinions. One expert suggested the earlier the surgery the better—early surgery could reduce secondary hypertrophy of the right ventricle and minimize myocardial damage to the infant. The other expert believed that although radical surgery for Tetralogy of Fallot had become more common in recent years, it required the pulmonary artery and left ventricle to develop to at least 60% of normal size. Given that the newborn was premature and, aside from complex cardiac problems, was extremely weak with none of the indicators meeting standards, the child could not withstand a one-step radical surgery. It would be best to perform the surgery in two stages—first conducting a shunt procedure after the child reached three months old to create a shunt between systemic and pulmonary circulation, increasing pulmonary blood flow and oxygenated blood to improve the child’s hypoxia symptoms. Once the child grew older and cardiac-pulmonary function and pulmonary arteries developed sufficiently, they could proceed with radical surgery.

After consulting various sources, Gao Xiang learned that treatment for congenital heart disease in China was still in its early stages, and both opinions had merit with their respective advantages and disadvantages. Chen Zihui leaned toward the latter expert’s view. She believed the child’s body was simply too weak, and waiting until he was older and somewhat stronger before operating would be safer.

To facilitate timely medical care for the child, Chen Zihui moved into Gao Xiang’s apartment in the provincial capital. The two-bedroom apartment had previously housed only him, making it quite spacious and comfortable. Now, with his mother, the baby, a live-in nanny, a day-shift nurse, an hourly housekeeper, and various baby supplies, it suddenly became cramped and crowded. The sick and weak child slept restlessly, easily startled awake, frequently caught colds and fevers, and even experienced seizures without warning, terrifying them into rushing to the hospital at all hours.

Chen Zihui and the nanny took turns caring for the baby, but after just over half a month, the nanny protested. She found the child difficult to care for and Chen Zihui excessively demanding and harsh. Even when Gao Xiang offered to increase her wages, she refused and left.

Gao Xiang had no choice but to put aside his work and take his secretary to the labor market to find a nanny. With great difficulty, they found a suitable candidate who could only start the next day.

Chen Zihui cared for the baby alone for two days, unable to get more than a few hours of complete sleep. She was utterly exhausted. Gao Xiang felt sorry for his mother and forcibly moved the crib into his own room, telling her to get some sleep while he watched over the baby.

The room was unusually quiet. He stared at the child in the crib—that face no bigger than a peach, with light eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, combined with downturned little lips, displaying a standard unhappy expression. He couldn’t find any hereditary features to associate with this face, yet he remembered the hand that had grasped his lapel and refused to let go at the town clinic, and that pale, miserable face.

Their entire family was so entangled by the child’s condition they could barely catch their breath, with no time yet to think about naming him. Probably starting with Chen Zihui, they all casually called him “Baobao.” But children grow up and need a proper name eventually. Thinking about how he had once promised Zuo Si’an through gritted teeth not to let the child bear the Chen surname, Gao Xiang couldn’t help but sigh.

As if sensing his troubles, the infant who had been sleeping peacefully suddenly struggled with his little hands and began crying. He hurriedly reached out to gently pat him, but the infant cried harder and harder. His face and extremities immediately turned cyanotic, scaring Gao Xiang into helplessness. He wanted to pick him up but, touching that tiny soft body, didn’t know where to start.

Chen Zihui, hearing the noise, came in wearing her clothes and picked up the child, gently soothing him.

“This is too frightening. Should we go to the hospital?”

He shook his head. “The doctor said that before surgery, these symptoms cannot be alleviated. Going to the hospital won’t help.”

That hoarse, exhausted wailing gradually calmed under Chen Zihui’s soothing. After feeding him a little milk, she placed him back in bed, looking at him lovingly. “Look at his nose—so high and straight. He looks just like Ziyu. This is inherited from the Chen family. Your nose is the same way.”

He frowned. “He’s still just a blob of flesh. You can’t tell.”

“Nonsense, he clearly—”

“Alright, alright. Go rest.”

Chen Zihui refused to leave. “Once he’s three months old and can have surgery, things will be better. Sigh, I just don’t know if the surgery will be safe.”

“Don’t scare yourself. Mom, tomorrow I’ll rent a bigger place and hire two nannies to take shifts. Otherwise, your health won’t hold up.”

Chen Zihui still disagreed. “Renting is inconvenient. I’m planning to buy a bigger place. But nannies are outsiders after all—they can’t possibly care for Baobao as attentively as I do. No matter how many I hire, I can’t let go. I’m fine. Ziyu was also a crybaby when he was little. The moment I sat down, he’d start crying endlessly. I had to hold him and walk around all night.”

She mentioned Chen Ziyu again, and Gao Xiang could only fall silent.

“Are you like your father, resenting me for focusing all my attention on Ziyu when you were little and not caring for you at all?”

He shook his head. “Let’s not bring up those things.”

Chen Zihui stared at him blankly. “Before, whenever your father said this to me, I’d tell him our son never complained about it, never brought it up—only he was petty. He said that just because you didn’t mention it doesn’t mean you didn’t mind. Looks like he was right.”

Gao Xiang searched his heart. He didn’t hold a grudge, but he truly wasn’t completely indifferent either. However, he was now a twenty-three-year-old adult man, and Chen Ziyu had died tragically, becoming a heavy shadow weighing on their entire family. He had no reason to bring up that grievance again to discuss with his exhausted mother.

“You’re too tired. Go get some proper sleep.”

The new year of 1997 passed in busyness and worry. Gao Xiang tried to repair his relationship with his girlfriend, but when Sun Ruodi finally answered his call, he momentarily didn’t know where to begin. To Sun Ruodi, this hesitant attitude naturally showed a complete lack of sincerity, and she hung up in anger.

He knew it would be best to meet in person, and given Sun Ruodi’s gentle personality and his usual persuasiveness, it wouldn’t be difficult to coax her into changing her mind. But somehow, he couldn’t muster the energy to make further efforts.

His car had been thoroughly cleaned and the cushions replaced, yet every day when he got in, he suspected he could still smell a faint trace of blood. He didn’t know if this counted as being unable to move past some influence, a psychology at work preventing life from returning to normal.

Could Zuo Si’an’s life return to normal? This thought would float into his mind from time to time.

One afternoon near the end of the workday, while Gao Xiang was handling work in his office, he suddenly received a call from Yu Jia. “Gao Xiang, please go to my house right now and check on things.”

“What happened?”

Yu Jia’s voice was urgent and somewhat shrill. “I’m in City H right now. My work unit assigned me to attend a very important conference that I really can’t refuse. I can’t return until tomorrow. Xiao An still had a slight fever yesterday. I wanted to take her to the hospital, but she adamantly refused. This morning I made her take medicine before I left. I’ve been calling home for the past two hours, but the line’s been busy. I’m afraid something might have happened to Xiao An. I’m sorry, I can’t entrust this to anyone else. I can only ask you to help me go check.”

He asked for the address and hurriedly drove over.

The Zuo family lived in a dormitory complex on Zhongshan Road. With great difficulty, he found the address Yu Jia had given him among a large cluster of similar-looking old dormitory buildings. After going up to the third floor, he repeatedly rang the doorbell and knocked directly, but no one answered. He called Yu Jia. “Teacher Yu, is it possible Xiao An went out?”

“She had surgery less than a month ago. Her body is very weak. How could she go out? Besides, she’s been in a state of depression and hasn’t shown any desire to go out for a stroll. Why don’t you find a locksmith to come up and open the door?”

Gao Xiang tried pressing the doorbell once more. Still no response. He was about to turn and go downstairs when the door suddenly opened. Zuo Si’an stood there with disheveled hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing a set of powder-blue plaid pajamas, a pair of fluffy pink slippers, and clutching a cloth teddy bear. She not only looked like a little girl again but displayed an excessively typical childishness that made Gao Xiang somewhat helpless with mixed feelings.

She looked straight at him, still as if she had never seen him before. He relaxed but also felt somewhat annoyed. “Why did it take you so long to open the door?”

“I was asleep.” Her voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

“Did you not hang up the phone properly?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s almost dinner time. What do you want to eat? I’ll buy it and bring it up.”

She shook her head. “There’s chicken soup at home. I don’t want to eat.”

“Then… call your mother, and go back to sleep.”

She said “Oh,” and he reached out to close the door for her. Just as the lock was about to catch, he suddenly felt something was wrong. He pushed the door open again and examined her carefully. She was still standing in the same spot, her face flushed with an unnatural redness, her gaze scattered and unfocused. She was clearly looking at him but seemed to see nothing. He reached out to touch her forehead. Unlike before, she didn’t instinctively dodge. The heat his palm felt made him start—she was obviously running a high fever.

“Go get dressed. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

She seemed to recover a bit of consciousness. “I hate hospitals. I’m not going.”

“That won’t do. You’re burning up like this. Don’t be willful.”

She stood there without response. He was at his wit’s end and had to take off his jacket. As soon as he took her arm, she suddenly screamed. He was startled and hurriedly explained, “It’s very cold outside. You must put on clothes.”

“It hurts.”

“Where does it hurt?”

She bit her lip and refused to speak. He was puzzled but carefully helped her into the jacket. “Come with me.”

She still clutched the teddy bear and followed him out. He casually closed the door, only then noticing she was still wearing slippers. Going down the stairs unsteadily, she nearly stumbled and fell after just one step. He had no choice but to carry her. She didn’t resist at all, staring ahead as if sleepwalking. This was the second time he had carried her. Compared to last time, she was as light as a feather, almost weightless.

He put her in the car and drove toward the hospital. Suddenly he heard her say, “That’s not right, Dad. This stop is Shanghai Road. The next stop is Kunming Road. We still need to take three more stops and get off at Shenyang Road, right?”

There were indeed many roads named after cities in this city, but right now he was driving neither on Shanghai Road nor Kunming Road. He glanced at her and found her head tilted to one side, pressed against the glass window, gazing blankly ahead, not knowing what kind of hallucination she had fallen into. She murmured, “Dad, don’t be angry. I’ll never run off alone again. I’ll wait for you to come pick me up.”

Her slender neck bent at an almost dangerous angle, causing an nearly buried memory to flash unexpectedly through his mind. When he was probably only six or seven years old, playing behind the school with Chen Ziyu, who was the same age, Chen Ziyu had caught a young night heron and showed it off to him. That bird also had such a long neck, tilting to one side as if unable to bear the weight, its eyes terrified, its cry unusually piercing.

He didn’t know why he would suddenly think of such a distant past, especially thinking of Chen Ziyu at this moment, which made his chest churn with a hundred mixed feelings, unable to calm down.

 2

Gao Xiang registered emergency care for Zuo Si’an. The female doctor on duty inquired about the situation. Zuo Si’an had completely fallen into a state of scattered consciousness and couldn’t answer the doctor’s questions, while Gao Xiang could provide only very limited answers.

The female doctor took out her stethoscope. As soon as it touched Zuo Si’an’s chest, she screamed again and shrank back. “It hurts.”

The female doctor was greatly surprised and took her into the inner room. After a while, she came out and called to a nurse, “Please ask Dr. Wang to come over immediately.”

Dr. Wang was a middle-aged male doctor. He hurried over and went in with the nurse. Gao Xiang had to go to the corridor to call Yu Jia.

“When I left, she only had a slight fever. I told her to take medicine. How could it suddenly become so serious? What did the doctor say?”

“Her fever has reached thirty-nine point seven degrees. The doctor is examining her now. Don’t worry. I’ll notify you when there’s news.”

“I’m heading back right now. Please stay at the hospital and watch over her for me.”

After another ten minutes or so, the two doctors came out. Dr. Wang glanced at Gao Xiang and left first. The female doctor looked at Gao Xiang with a grave expression and stern eyes. “What is your relationship to Zuo Si’an?”

Gao Xiang asked in confusion, “Doctor, what’s wrong with Zuo Si’an?”

The female doctor pressed her lips tightly together and looked him up and down. “I just asked a surgical doctor to examine her together. We found she has acute mastitis. The problem is she’s only a fourteen-year-old girl. How could she get a disease that only lactating mothers might get? What happened to her? What have you done to her?”

Gao Xiang was speechless, momentarily not knowing how to explain this confused situation. The female doctor became even more suspicious, looking at him with more disgust. “If you don’t say, I can call the police. She’s still a minor. I can’t just watch her be victimized and do nothing.”

People in the corridor were curiously watching them. He had to face the doctor directly. “Doctor, your suspicion and sense of justice are both reasonable. I can only say I did nothing. This girl did indeed have a cesarean section nearly a month ago. Her mother is out of town on business and is rushing back. I won’t leave. Please go do your best to treat her and respect her privacy. Don’t spread this around.”

The female doctor still stared at him, as if judging his credibility. After a while, she silently turned and left. Gao Xiang sat down dejectedly. He had never imagined he would become a criminal in others’ eyes, unable even to defend himself with confidence. More importantly, from the look in others’ eyes, he once again realized how much anger and disgust this kind of crime would provoke. He had to admit that he actually couldn’t maintain a completely calm and innocent attitude.

When Yu Jia arrived at the hospital, it was already nine o’clock at night. That stern female doctor didn’t spare her either, questioning her harshly, “How do you mother your child?”

“I… she didn’t tell me.” Yu Jia explained with difficulty. “She’s still so young, and with the premature cesarean, she didn’t breastfeed. I thought she wasn’t producing milk at all.”

“Having your daughter encounter this situation is already parental negligence. If you had been even slightly attentive, during the early stage of mastitis when your daughter’s breasts were swollen, red, and painful, you should have noticed and brought her to the hospital promptly. You actually dragged it out until she had a high fever with complications, and you left her alone at home to go on a business trip. Do you know how dangerous that is?”

Yu Jia had no defense. She stared blankly at the doctor. Gao Xiang couldn’t help but interject, “Doctor, her husband works out of town. She’s already working very hard caring for her daughter alone. She can’t possibly turn down all work and just stay home guarding her.”

The doctor was momentarily at a loss for words. Looking at Yu Jia’s devastated state, she really couldn’t continue her tirade. She waved her hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. Your daughter is receiving an IV now. She must stay in the hospital for observation today. Go stay with her.”

After the doctor left, Yu Jia said bitterly, “Thank you, Gao Xiang. You’ve really been troubled today. You should go home now.”

“I’ll come pick you up tomorrow to go home.”

“Thank you, but there’s no need. We can easily take a taxi home.”

When Gao Xiang returned home and opened the door, he was stunned. Sun Ruodi was sitting on the living room sofa, gently humming a song while holding Baobao.

“Ruodi, how are you here?”

Chen Zihui came out from the kitchen with a baby bottle. “Why are you only coming back now?”

“I had something to deal with.”

“The nanny asked for leave today. Fortunately Ruodi came over to give me a hand.”

Chen Zihui took the baby and fed him milk. Sun Ruodi placed a cushion behind her back so she could sit more comfortably. She praised, “Girls are more thoughtful and know how to care for people.”

Sun Ruodi was somewhat bashful. “Auntie, I should go now.”

Chen Zihui was very warm toward her. “Have Xiao Xiang see you out. Come visit again when you’re free.”

Gao Xiang accompanied Sun Ruodi downstairs. “How did you come over?”

Sun Ruodi huffed. “You have the nerve to ask me. I came to get my things and was planning to return your key. Why didn’t you tell me your mother was here? When I opened the door and came face to face with her, it was so awkward.”

“Sorry, I—”

But Sun Ruodi covered his mouth. “I should be the one saying sorry. Last time I lost my temper and hung up without letting you finish. I really had no idea your family had gone through so much. Sigh, poor Baobao. Before he was even born, his father died in a car accident, his mother died in childbirth, and he’s so little but has heart disease and needs surgery.”

He was greatly shocked and immediately understood this could only be a story Chen Zihui had made up. He couldn’t accuse his mother of lying, nor could he explain the dark and sinful facts contained in this tragic story that brought tears to Sun Ruodi’s eyes. He could only keep his mouth shut and maintain silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I know you and your little uncle grew up together like brothers. You must be very devastated. I’m sorry—I wasn’t there to comfort you and just kept quarreling with you. It’s my fault. I was too willful…”

“Let’s not mention this anymore.” He wearily held her hand. “I’ll take you home.”

Sun Ruodi got in the car and picked up a cloth teddy bear from the floor. “Oh, this must be a toy you bought for Baobao. It’s so cute.”

He took it. The teddy bear wore a red plaid shirt, black corduroy pants, and a big bow tie, looking charmingly naive. He thought of the fragile girl who had clutched it tightly in her hand, wondering if she would look around searching for it when she woke up. He almost unconsciously sighed.

Sun Ruodi misunderstood and reached out to touch his face, saying softly, “Don’t worry. Baobao will get better.”

He nodded, casually placed the teddy bear on the center console, and started the car.

 3

Over a month later one evening, Gao Xiang and Sun Ruodi had just bought movie tickets and were preparing to enter when his phone rang. It was Yu Jia calling. “Xiao Gao, are you busy right now?”

He stepped aside a bit. “Teacher Yu, what’s the matter?”

Yu Jia’s voice was extremely hoarse. “I have an unreasonable request. I’d like to trouble you to drive me to Liuwan right now and help me bring my daughter back.”

“How did Xiao An end up in Liuwan?”

“She ran away from home. I’ve been looking for her everywhere. Just now I received a call from Mei Yi and learned she went to Liuwan. I’ve tried to flag down several taxis, but they all refused to go to such a remote place. I’m sorry, I can only ask you. Please do me this favor.”

He came back and handed the ticket to Sun Ruodi. “Sorry, Ruodi. Something came up. I have to leave first.”

It had been so difficult for them to finally have a date. Sun Ruodi was naturally unhappy. “Is it your mother calling? If Baobao needs someone to look after him, I can go with you to help.”

He said hastily, “It’s something else. You watch the movie alone. Take a taxi home afterward. I have to go.”

Gao Xiang rushed to the location Yu Jia had specified and picked her up. In the lingering winter, with continuous drizzle day after day, Yu Jia was quite disheveled this time. Her pant legs were splattered with mud, her high-heeled leather boots were unrecognizable, and her pinned-up hair was somewhat loose. She got in the car and collapsed in the seat, obviously exhausted to the extreme, without her usual straight back and elegant demeanor.

As he started the car, he asked her, “Teacher Yu, I have to meddle and ask clearly—why did Xiao An run away from home?”

Yu Jia fell briefly silent, then said expressionlessly, “My husband asked me for a divorce. Xiao An probably thinks the responsibility for the marriage breakdown lies with me, that I forced her father to flee to Tibet. She hasn’t spoken a word to me for over a month. The day before yesterday she secretly took money and went to the train station to buy a ticket, planning to go to Chengdu and then transfer to Tibet to her father. Fortunately, the train police saw she was too young and stopped her in time, notifying me to pick her up from the station. She’s not starting school until September. I can’t stay home watching her all day. I didn’t expect her to run away again today.”

Gao Xiang felt an indescribable anger. “When your daughter needs you most, you’re getting divorced. Teacher Yu, forgive me for being blunt, but you’re a couple of parents I simply cannot understand.”

“Don’t lecture me,” Yu Jia said wearily. “I’m equally unable to understand what happened to my daughter.”

He was struck speechless.

“I know I said we don’t need to stay in contact anymore, and there’s really no reason to pressure you into managing this kind of business. But I really can’t drag unrelated people into this matter, so I have to shamelessly approach you again and again. I’m truly sorry.”

With things said to this point, he could only stop talking and concentrate on driving.

When Gao Xiang and Yu Jia arrived in Liuwan, it was already late at night. The village was extremely quiet. The only place with lights on was Mei Yi’s house. She, Jingjing, and Zuo Si’an were sitting in the east wing room, each reading books or doing homework. When they saw them enter, Zuo Si’an quickly lowered her head.

Mei Yi stood up and gave them a meaningful look. The three of them walked to the west wing room. “I advised her for a long time. She agreed to go back with you. However, she still insists on going to see her father right away.” Mei Yi sighed. “It’s at this age that they have this kind of stubbornness.”

Yu Jia smiled bitterly and said nothing. Jingjing suddenly ran over. “Actually, if Sister Xiao An doesn’t want to go back, she could just live at our house and keep me company. That would be great.”

Mei Yi glared at her. “Have you thought about how worried Xiao An’s mother is about her? Besides, how would Xiao An go to school if she stayed here? Go do your homework. Don’t interrupt when adults are talking.”

Jingjing pouted, greatly displeased, and went out. Mei Yi said to Yu Jia, “Teacher Yu, don’t mind what children say.”

Yu Jia shook her head. “Anyone can see my daughter doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m a failed mother. How could I blame an honest child?”

Gao Xiang tentatively said, “If Xiao An wants to see her father, you could go with her. You two could also communicate face to face.”

“Easy for you to say. From when this happened until now, I’ve taken countless days off and accumulated a pile of work. Leaving business trips early without notice and running home—I’ve completely lost all reasonable explanation to give my leaders and colleagues. Unless I resign, there’s no way I can spare time right now to take her to Tibet.”

“In that case, can you communicate with her father and have him persuade Xiao An to temporarily give up this idea and wait until he comes back? Even if he wants to divorce you, he still has to come back in person to handle the paperwork, right?”

“Do you know where in Tibet Zuo Xuejun went? Ali. A vast plateau uninhabited zone, primitive and backward, with sporadic communication that cuts in and out. He’s also deliberately avoiding contact. If I can get through to him once every half month, that’s already quite something. All he says to his daughter is to stay home and make up schoolwork so she doesn’t fall behind when school starts in September. He didn’t even symbolically say, ‘Your mother is working very hard, you should listen to her.'”

Gao Xiang and Mei Yi looked at each other, neither knowing what to say.

These words had obviously been building up in Yu Jia’s heart for a long time. Once she started, it was hard to stop. “Yes, I’m not a good mother. I’m not the type of woman who treats her child as everything. I have my own work and want to accomplish something in my career. My commute takes an hour and a half each day, and I often have business trips. When Xiao An was very young, her father started taking care of her. He took her to kindergarten and elementary school, never leaving her. To let me work with peace of mind, when he went for job training, he took her to Qinggang for middle school.”

Mentioning this point, her expression darkened. They simultaneously thought of what happened in Qinggang, even more unable to say anything. After a long while, Yu Jia continued in a flat tone, “He devoted much more to his daughter. Her feelings for him are far deeper than for me. It’s always been this way. After that incident, I felt very guilty. I wanted to compensate her, give her more care, do everything I could. I turned down work, took long leave to accompany her in Qinggang, spent three or four hours whenever I had time taking two long-distance buses to Liuwan to see her, humbled myself to find connections to handle transfer procedures for her. But no matter how much I do, it’s useless. She just won’t talk to me.”

“Perhaps you’re overthinking it. After all, she’s still young and can’t bear such a great upheaval, which is why she’s acting abnormal. You should still communicate more with her, let her speak her thoughts.”

“I know what she’s thinking, of course. But I believe what she should do most is try to forget that incident as soon as possible. Bringing it up repeatedly is like licking a wound—it only reminds her she experienced harm and makes her more self-pitying.”

Her calmness made it difficult for Gao Xiang to refute. Mei Yi could only say, “Xiao Gao is right. Now that her father isn’t by her side, you’re her closest relative. I’m afraid you’ll need even more patience.”

“The key is what she wants isn’t my patience, but her dad. Now she won’t talk to me at all. Even when she’s uncomfortable, she won’t tell me. I promised her that when I can take leave, I’ll take her to her father. She thinks I’m just putting her off.” Yu Jia rolled up the sweater sleeve covering her right hand, revealing two long red scratch marks from the back of her hand to her forearm. “The day before yesterday when I picked her up from the train station, she even fought with me. I never imagined that she, who had always been quiet and well-behaved from childhood, would throw a tantrum in public, crying, cursing, and scuffling with me.”

Mei Yi was obviously also shocked and couldn’t speak for a moment.

“It’s not because her father wants to divorce me that I’m slandering him. After the incident, he… completely changed into a different person, rude to everyone, abandoning work, ignoring family, not caring about his daughter or even saying goodbye to her, just walking away to Tibet. Xiao An seems to think all this is my fault. When I try to reason with her, she won’t listen at all. I comfort her saying things will get better, but she says I’m cold-blooded. I… really don’t know what to do anymore.”

Saying this, Yu Jia could no longer hold on. She slowly sat down, supporting her temples, obviously completely exhausted. Mei Yi patted her shoulder, comforting her not to worry. Gao Xiang stood awkwardly to the side. Looking up, he found Zuo Si’an standing straight at the guardhouse watching her mother. She wore a thick denim jacket, her figure thin to the point of frailty, that posture carrying a heavy grimness inconsistent with her tender face.

Meeting Gao Xiang’s gaze, she turned and walked away.

 4

Zuo Si’an came to the courtyard and stood under the osmanthus tree. The night sky was clear and cloudless, with a large half moon hanging high and distant on the western dark blue horizon. The bright moonlight filtered through the osmanthus tree’s luxuriant branches and leaves, casting dappled light and shadow. The leaves shone with a ghostly light as if waxed. The village night was as quiet and peaceful as the days she had lived here, yet she couldn’t calm her emotions.

“…Rude to everyone, abandoning work, ignoring family, not caring about his daughter or even saying goodbye to her, just walking away to Tibet…” Yu Jia’s description was objective, but the father in Zuo Si’an’s heart was certainly not like this.

Neither Zuo Xuejun nor Yu Jia’s family was from the local area. After having their daughter, Yu Jia continued reading for her master’s degree after maternity leave ended. Zuo Xuejun’s mother and Yu Jia’s parents each came over to help care for Zuo Si’an until she was a year and a half old, but due to health and lifestyle habits, they each returned to their hometowns. Zuo Xuejun had no choice but to start taking Zuo Si’an to work early, dropping her off at the agency kindergarten’s day care program before going to work.

Every day Zuo Xuejun would wake Zuo Si’an up and dress her. Her eyes couldn’t even open. The moment he released his hand, she would tilt over and fall asleep, making him both annoyed and amused. She remained drowsy throughout, letting her father brush her teeth, comb her hair, and wash her face, then carry her out to catch the bus. Zuo Si’an quickly learned that when the long and short hands on the wall clock pointed to a certain position, it meant Dad might rush over to see her during his lunch break, and when they moved to another angle, it meant Father was coming to pick her up and take her home. After getting off the tram, Zuo Xuejun would take her along to buy groceries. By the time he had dinner almost ready, Yu Jia would also be home from work.

This daily repetitive life mired in trivial matters was certainly not easy for a man, yet Zuo Xuejun never complained. He was a model father and model husband in everyone’s eyes. Yu Jia acknowledged that with her husband’s support, she successfully completed her master’s degree while pregnant and giving birth to Xiao An, later completing her doctorate. She spent most of her time on work and achieved considerable success—she couldn’t be called a devoted wife or loving mother. With Zuo Xuejun’s abilities, he should have had more career development, but caring for the family somewhat affected his promotion. Zuo Xuejun himself felt the same way, which was why he accepted the job training assignment in Qinggang when Zuo Si’an was thirteen.

Zuo Si’an never felt she lacked maternal love. Zuo Xuejun’s care made up for all regrets. Like her father, she accepted Yu Jia’s career pursuits without complaint. She felt her childhood was very complete. If given a choice, she would want to stay in that stage, never having to grow up.

However, time never stops for anyone. She still grew up, and in a brutal way, transitioning from child to young woman.

If being raped and impregnated was already beyond a fourteen-year-old girl’s comprehension and endurance, then giving birth to the child was far from the liberation she had imagined. To some extent, she was completely crushed by the process.

She underwent cesarean section surgery under partial anesthesia, clearly conscious as the doctor cut open her lower abdomen and removed a mass, while simultaneously discussing her identity and the newborn child’s identity as if she didn’t exist.

“Sigh, so young. She’s really quite pitiful.”

“Yes, I heard her father is being transferred away.”

“After something like this happens, how could he stay?”

“The Chen family people are waiting outside to take this child.”

“The baby looks somewhat abnormal…”

The process seemed endlessly long, never to finish. She lay numbly, motionless as they sutured the incision stitch by stitch.

The last time she was stitched up was over a year ago when learning to ride a bicycle. She fell and cut her forehead, requiring only three stitches. Zuo Xuejun stayed by her side, more nervous than she was, repeatedly asking the doctor if it would leave a scar. Her body was sutured together, but she had a strange feeling: she had been permanently torn apart and could never be pieced together completely again.

Thinking of this, she finally cried. The doctor glanced over, moved by compassion, and comforted her. “Hold on a bit longer. It’ll be over soon.”

The ending the doctor spoke of had no meaning for Zuo Si’an. Yu Jia explained with difficulty about her father’s whereabouts. She couldn’t understand this sudden news—she only knew that Zuo Xuejun wasn’t on a short-term business trip but had completely disappeared from her life, without even saying goodbye. The thing that had troubled her for so long in her abdomen was indeed gone, but an ugly scar remained permanently on her body. Every time she bathed, she could see it just by lowering her head.

Actually, she didn’t need this reminder at all. The scene etched in her mind was so clear, as if her soul had left her body at the time, overlooking and recording the entire process, and as time passed, continuously supplementing bloody details, automatically replaying in her dreams. She frequently woke from nightmares. Eventually she couldn’t distinguish which parts had really happened and which came from her uncontrolled imagination.

Fear, shame, and despair pressed down on her until she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t sleep all night. Yu Jia tried hard to communicate with her. She loved her mother and could see that her mother, who wasn’t skilled at housework and wasn’t particularly meticulous, was trying to make up for her. But the relative she had always relied on most was her father. She had never established an intimate relationship with her mother where they could talk about anything. Because of her father’s sudden departure, she didn’t know where to begin.

She developed that acute mastitis that even doctors couldn’t explain. After treatment, she slowly recovered. Yu Jia painfully blamed her. “When you’re uncomfortable, why don’t you tell me? Even if you blame me, you can’t deliberately torture yourself to make me feel guilty.”

That her mother would misunderstand her like this left her speechless. Actually, she had no intention of deliberately concealing anything. Her extreme aversion to hospitals was one aspect. Additionally, her spirit couldn’t bear the burden and was in a dazed, distracted state, completely unaware of various physical discomforts. The violent fever, abscess, and severe pain nearly took her life, but at least they let her sleep for several days, temporarily taking her away from the edge of mental breakdown.

After treatment, her body slowly recovered, but she still couldn’t free herself from her father’s departure without saying goodbye. When she heard her mother criticize her father, she felt angry. Hearing them discuss divorce on the phone, she immediately could no longer stay home.

“Don’t run off alone like this again. It’s too dangerous. Your father definitely wouldn’t want you to do this either.”

Zuo Si’an turned around. Gao Xiang stood not far from her in the moonlight, his expression very gentle and friendly.

“Please don’t keep bringing up my father.”

He was somewhat helpless. “Your mother—”

“Don’t mention my mother either.”

“Alright. You running over here without a word will make Mei Yi very nervous. You should at least respect her feelings.”

Zuo Si’an didn’t respond, staring straight ahead. After a long while, she suddenly spoke. “That time… I mean that day, did you really go see my father?”

She knew she was contradicting herself, yet he answered seriously, “Of course I went to see him.”

“What did you talk about? Don’t make up things he didn’t say to deceive me. I can tell.”

Gao Xiang was stumped. After thinking, he could only say, “We didn’t talk for very long. He mentioned that a provincial colleague who went to aid Tibet had a car accident, and he had to rush to replace that person’s work, so he left in a hurry.”

Zuo Si’an breathed a great sigh of relief, murmuring, “I knew Mom was wrong. He wouldn’t deliberately avoid me.”

Gao Xiang realized he had put himself in an awkward position again. By his judgment, Zuo Xuejun’s volunteer request to aid Tibet was largely an escape from reality. Yu Jia had every reason to be angry. He didn’t approve of Yu Jia revealing this point to Zuo Si’an, but he felt that under current circumstances, if he exacerbated the opposition between her and her daughter, even with good intentions, it probably couldn’t be considered a sensible approach. Once Yu Jia found out, she would have every reason to accuse him of hypocrisy.

“Regardless, he’s in Tibet now. When you needed care most, the person by your side caring for you was your mother. You keep running away from home, making her anxious. Is that fair to her? Even if you’re dissatisfied with her about something, you shouldn’t use her love for you to punish her.”

She bit her lip. “She blamed Dad first. She scolded Dad for not fulfilling his responsibility to take care of me. But she didn’t think about the fact that the person who always took care of me was Dad. She always cared most about her career, had no time to look after me, which is why I came with Dad to study in Qinggang. Last summer vacation, she was going to Yunnan for a research project and didn’t have me come back either.”

“It’s normal for parents to have disputes. You can’t blame everything on one side.”

“I’m not blaming them. I blame myself. You wouldn’t understand.”

Gao Xiang was stunned. “Xiao An, you’re the victim. There’s no reason to blame yourself.”

“Yes, I’m the victim. Sounds so pitiful. Anyone can come sympathize with me.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?” Tears glimmered in her eyes. She struggled not to let them fall. “My teachers and classmates all look at me like I’m a monster. They turn around and whisper about me. My father won’t even look me in the eye anymore. Mom only tells me to forget everything, act like nothing happened. But how can I forget?”

“This will pass.”

“Will it? I don’t know. I only know my parents don’t see it that way. When they argue, they say my whole life has been ruined.”

Gao Xiang said with difficulty, “Xiao An, when people argue, it’s hard to stay rational. You did encounter something very bad, but you’re still young. Everything can start over.”

Zuo Si’an didn’t pay attention to him, speaking to herself. “All this was caused by me. If I had just stayed home properly that day instead of wanting to go to the movies, I wouldn’t have been… grabbed onto the car, and these things wouldn’t have happened. Who else can I blame except myself?”

She choked up, gasping for breath. Gao Xiang also felt suffocated, almost blurting out for her to stop talking.

“I want to see my father, let him see that I’m the same as before now, nothing to worry about. I want him to stop talking about divorcing Mom. I want to promise him that incident was nothing. I can barely even remember it. I’ll definitely forget it, and they don’t need to keep it on their minds either. I’ll go to the new school and study hard. Our family can live like before.”

She lowered her head, her voice growing quieter and quieter, as if knowing this wish, once spoken, already seemed unrealistic, making her even more desperate. When she spoke again, she hadn’t cried. “Whether Mom agrees or not, I’m going to where my father is.”

After a long silence, Gao Xiang suddenly said, “If your mother agrees, my girlfriend and I can take you to Tibet together.”

She jerked her head up sharply, unable to believe her ears. Yu Jia, who had walked out with Mei Yi, also stopped in shock.

 5

Sun Ruodi asked Gao Xiang, “You seem to have been preoccupied lately. Are you worried about Baobao?”

“Baobao’s condition is alright. Now that we’ve somewhat figured out his patterns, he’s much easier to care for than at the beginning.” Gao Xiang looked at his girlfriend. “You’ve always wanted to go to Tibet, haven’t you? I’ll go with you.”

Sun Ruodi was quite surprised. “You mean now?”

Gao Xiang nodded. Sun Ruodi looked at him puzzled and asked, “How is that possible? Baobao still needs to prepare for surgery. How can you leave?”

“He just recovered from pneumonia. We’ve discussed with the doctor—we’ll do his surgery in May. Going to Tibet will probably take about half a month, and we can come back.”

Sun Ruodi still hesitated. “Summer and autumn are the best seasons to go to Tibet. It must be very cold there now.”

“You’ll have to start work right after graduation. Right now you don’t have many classes. Plus, a friend happens to be working in Ali, Tibet. I need to help deliver his daughter there.”

“Ali? I’ve always wanted to go to Ali, to see the sacred mountains and holy lakes there. I didn’t want to just circle around Lhasa and come back. That’s wonderful.”

Sun Ruodi became excited at once, jumped up to hug Gao Xiang and kissed him, then opened her computer to show him the travel guides she had collected, pointing out places she wanted to visit. Gao Xiang listened absentmindedly, feeling somewhat guilty. If not for wanting to take Zuo Si’an to Ali, he certainly wouldn’t have the leisure now to accompany his girlfriend to Tibet. Even though he considered himself aboveboard, traveling alone as her escort would still be very inconvenient. How a girl like Zuo Si’an in such a sensitive period would react was hard to say. Yu Jia would be the first to disagree. Bringing his girlfriend seemed like an arrangement benefiting both sides, but it seemed unfair to Sun Ruodi, who knew nothing about it.

“…Hey, are you even listening?”

“I’m listening. What did you say?”

“Where exactly in Ali does your friend work?”

“Shiquanhe Town.”

Sun Ruodi followed the map searching. “That’s where the Ali regional administrative office is located. How do you have a friend working in such a remote place?”

“He’s a cadre who went to aid Tibet.”

“Oh. How old is his daughter? If she’s too young, it’s not convenient to go to the plateau.”

“Fourteen.”

“Doesn’t she need to go to school?”

“She’s taking a year off for health reasons.”

“Poor health isn’t suitable for going to Ali either.”

“She’s already recovered. Tomorrow I’ll arrange a meeting so you and she can meet her mother. By the way, she’s very introverted. Don’t ask her about the reason for taking leave.”

Yu Jia had been hesitant, completely unable to decide whether to agree to this, but Zuo Si’an’s displayed stubbornness left her completely at a loss. And just as Gao Xiang expected, she felt relieved after meeting Sun Ruodi. Sun Ruodi was beautiful in appearance, refined in speech, and clearly a well-raised girl. She was very close with Gao Xiang. When talking about Tibet, she was full of anticipation and readily promised Yu Jia she would take care of the little sister and safely deliver her to her father, then bring her safely back.

Sun Ruodi immediately contacted other possible companions and planned the itinerary. Gao Xiang went home and told Chen Zihui and Gao Ming about this travel plan. After a moment of shock, Chen Zihui indeed erupted.

“Why do you still have contact with them? Didn’t they say so decisively that after the child was born, they’d never see each other again? I said long ago to give them money and be done with it, but you and your father didn’t listen to me. Now look—you’re being entangled by them.”

“Mom, don’t put it so unpleasantly. They haven’t entangled me at all. I feel I have a responsibility to compensate them.”

“Ridiculous. What responsibility do you have for something completely unrelated to you?”

“She’s still a child. Whatever way adults participated in this matter, they all have responsibility.”

Gao Ming, sitting to the side, also spoke up. “Let him go. This is what we owe the Zuo family.”

Chen Zihui glared at him furiously. “Stop your nonsense. What we owed their family, Ziyu already paid back with his life. Not only are you not stopping your son, you’re encouraging him. You’re deliberately opposing me, aren’t you!”

Gao Xiang had to step between them. “Mom, be reasonable. Going to Tibet was completely my own idea. It has nothing to do with Dad. Besides, Ruodi has always wanted to go there to visit. It’s perfect to take her along.”

“You’re even dragging Ruodi into this. How will you explain her origins to your girlfriend?”

“You’ve already told Ruodi such a touching story. What else do I need to explain?”

Chen Zihui was so angry she pointed at him with her finger. “Now you’re even better than your father at angering me. Let me tell you, Xiao Xiang, Baobao is still small. For his future, you shouldn’t have any further contact with the Zuo family.”

“That’s why I want to settle this matter now.” Gao Xiang knew that continuing to argue with his mother would be futile and hurtful. But he had always known how to deal with her. He said soothingly, “Mom, I’ve already decided. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to settle down. I’ll arrange work properly. Dad will also arrange work on his side and come over to help you take care of Baobao for a while. Don’t worry. I’ll definitely come back as soon as possible.”

No matter how angry Chen Zihui was, she couldn’t keep chasing after her calm son to argue. Plus, hearing that her long-absent husband was coming over made her happy. She could only glare at him resentfully. “Anyway, you don’t take me, your mother, seriously at all.”

Going to Tibet was after all a distant and unfamiliar journey. The preparation work was more complicated than Gao Xiang had anticipated. He carefully read the materials Sun Ruodi had on her phone, then consulted friends with experience entering Tibet. The advice he received was that transportation there was extremely inconvenient, with vast uninhabited areas and no regular buses. To reach the places they wanted to go, they could only hire vehicles for self-driving. Currently, the “Guoshi Highway” was the only main road from Lhasa to Shiquanhe Town in Ali—nearly 1,800 kilometers with extremely poor road conditions and sparse population along the way. Route 219 was undergoing major repairs. Several hundred kilometers were difficult to traverse. Going deep required sufficient provisions and preparation for dealing with emergencies. They needed at least two off-road vehicles traveling together for mutual rescue if necessary.

With that friend’s help, Gao Xiang contacted Old Zhang in Beijing. He had been to Tibet once before and had rich experience in off-road self-driving and hiking. He was preparing to enter Tibet with seven other outdoor enthusiasts in two vehicles to cross Ali. After repeated communication, they finally settled on an itinerary. Old Zhang’s group would self-drive in via the Qinghai-Tibet line, while they would rent a car locally after arriving in Lhasa.

One day in late April, Gao Xiang took Sun Ruodi and Zuo Si’an and flew to Chengdu, stayed there one night, then took an early morning flight to Lhasa.

Yu Jia saw them off at the airport. Her eyes were slightly red as she tried to maintain composure. Zuo Si’an seemed habitually to keep her head lowered, refusing to look at her. She called Gao Xiang aside and said quietly, “It was only ten days ago that I finally got through to her father on the phone with great difficulty. The moment I mentioned Xiao An wanted to see him, he flew into a rage and yelled at me over the phone, completely ignoring my explanations. I’m afraid if he knows Xiao An is really coming, he’ll hide. How could we find him in that kind of place? If she can’t see him, Xiao An will be heartbroken, so I didn’t call him again.”

“Seeing his daughter, he’ll definitely still be happy.”

“Not necessarily. I just hope that after making this trip, Xiao An can let go of this concern and come back to study properly. I’m counting on you, Gao Xiang.”

Gao Xiang nodded. She walked over, took Sun Ruodi’s hand, and said earnestly, “Ruodi, please take good care of Xiao An.”

Sun Ruodi also nodded repeatedly. “Teacher Yu, I will.”

On the plane from Chengdu to Tibet, Sun Ruodi was full of excitement, showing materials she had collected to Zuo Si’an and trying to get her to talk. Zuo Si’an appeared to listen carefully, staring intently at the map, but responded very little. The plane landed on time at Lhasa Gonggar Airport. After disembarking and seeing the transparent blue sky and white clouds, Sun Ruodi became even more excited. Despite Gao Xiang’s warnings, she immediately dragged him and Zuo Si’an to see the Potala Palace she had longed for, then wandered around the city after dropping off luggage at the hotel.

Several hours later, all three of them experienced altitude sickness to varying degrees. Zuo Si’an and Gao Xiang only had headaches, but the overly excited Sun Ruodi also developed chest tightness and shortness of breath. Unable to continue, she had to return to the hotel and lie down. Gao Xiang knew that while flying to Lhasa saved time, it didn’t allow gradual adaptation to the high altitude like driving would. He went out to buy medicine for them to take and told them to rest early.

By the next afternoon, Sun Ruodi had finally recovered. She said to Zuo Si’an, who came over to pour water for her, “Your mother told me to take care of you, but I was so useless. I’m really embarrassed.”

Although they had been together for three days, Zuo Si’an still maintained a reserved distance, not warming up to Sun Ruodi. She just pulled the corners of her mouth in what counted as a smile and said nothing.

Old Zhang’s group had assembled in Xining and departed by self-driving Toyota off-road vehicles via the Qinghai-Tibet line into Tibet, arriving in Lhasa one day after Gao Xiang. After they reached the hotel, they called Gao Xiang. When the two teams met, Gao Xiang discovered only one vehicle had come from their side—two men and two women. Old Zhang told him that while crossing Kunlun Mountain, the other vehicle had flipped over due to icy road conditions. Fortunately, the speed wasn’t high, and the people in the car only suffered minor injuries. The vehicle was towed for repairs and could no longer keep up with the itinerary. Despite experiencing this setback and driving for six days, traversing Kunlun Mountain, the Kekexili uninhabited zone, and Tanggula Mountain through a grueling journey, the few of them looked weathered but showed no signs of discomfort. Their spirits were all very full, forming an interesting contrast with the two girls’ sickly cat appearance.

Old Zhang worked for a foreign company and was actually only three years older than Gao Xiang, but he looked relatively mature. Everyone respectfully called him Brother Zhang. He was witty and talkative. First, he advised Gao Xiang to get a buzz cut like him and another man, saying it would be more convenient on the road. Before Gao Xiang could respond, Sun Ruodi objected first. “No need, no need. His hair is already short enough.”

Old Zhang stroked the short stubble on his head and grinned. “In a few days, you’ll know how practical my advice is. You two ladies, if you can’t handle it, speak up immediately. There’s no shame in backing out here.”

Zuo Si’an clearly couldn’t handle this kind of familiarity and stood aside silently. Sun Ruodi smiled and shook her head. “I’ve already adapted. I won’t hold everyone back.”

Old Zhang had extremely strong organizational and action abilities and also had wide connections. He had already asked local friends to help Gao Xiang rent a Toyota and hire a Tibetan driver named Dorje to take turns driving with them. Dorje was born in Ali, familiar with local roads, and could serve as their guide. After the vehicle handover, they promptly replenished supplies that day and set out early the next morning.

 6

Heading west from Lhasa, a journey beyond imagination—long and arduous—began.

This road belonged to Route 318, also called the China-Nepal Highway, with an average elevation of 4,000 meters. Dorje drove in front, Gao Xiang drove the other vehicle closely behind. Old Zhang came over to sit in the passenger seat, taking over after Gao Xiang drove for two hours, talking animatedly the whole way as if completely unaffected by altitude sickness.

Sun Ruodi listened to him talk about what he had seen and heard coming via the Qinghai-Tibet line, envious beyond measure. Gao Xiang also found it eye-opening. The only silent person in the car was Zuo Si’an. She sat in the back seat, constantly turning her head to look at the unfamiliar scenery outside the window. Even when Old Zhang and Sun Ruodi tried to get her to talk, she only vaguely responded with “Mm” as an answer.

They arrived in Shigatse and settled in. The next morning they hit the road, passed through Pengcuolin Township (an old district name; in 1960 it merged with Lazi District to establish Lazi County) and reached Gyatso La Pass. Four mountains with elevations exceeding 8,000 meters, including Mount Everest, suddenly appeared in their field of vision. They all stopped to gaze into the distance. After Sun Ruodi took a photo with Gao Xiang, she called Zuo Si’an over for a group photo, but she shook her head and refused. Sun Ruodi whispered to Gao Xiang, “Is this child somewhat autistic?”

“Nonsense.”

“How am I talking nonsense? Look at how indifferent she is even toward her mother. When we left, she didn’t say a single word…”

“That’s other people’s family business.”

“Fine. These past days we’ve been together constantly. No matter what, we count as acquaintances now. But so far, the words she’s said to me add up to less than ten sentences.”

“She’s still young after all, and it’s her first time traveling far from home. Be more patient with her and talk to her more. Eventually, she’ll get used to communicating with you.”

Sun Ruodi looked at him thoughtfully. He was somewhat puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

Sun Ruodi smiled. “No wonder you keep talking to her even when she doesn’t respond. I’m only now discovering you can be quite attentive.”

“Have I always seemed careless?”

“You’re not careless either, but I used to think you never spent much effort on other people.”

“That’s worse than saying I’m careless—it’s indirectly accusing me of being selfish.”

Sun Ruodi glared at him. “Stop it. You’re not selfish either. I don’t know how to put it. You’re very good to me, but… you’ve never been attentive enough.”

Gao Xiang felt somewhat ashamed. This was the first time Sun Ruodi had complained so explicitly. He roughly understood what she meant. She was his first love, but his personality had matured early. He had never had the same fervent total devotion as his peers, nor did he think he could be as detailed and thoughtful as his girlfriend hoped. He could only say softly, “Taking advantage of oxygen deprivation to settle scores with me and make me deeply reflect—that’s not very humane.”

Sun Ruodi was amused by him. Besides, they were in an exciting journey with high spirits. She wasn’t really holding a grudge and turned to continue photographing the scenery.

Gao Xiang walked over to Zuo Si’an, who was crouching to one side, and also crouched down, asking softly, “Are you feeling unwell?”

Zuo Si’an’s face was pale. She hesitated, then said, “A bit stuffy. I can’t catch my breath.”

“The oxygen content in the air here is less than half of what it is inland. Feeling stuffy is normal.” He unscrewed the water bottle cap and handed it to her. “Drink some hot water.”

She obediently took it, drank two sips, and handed the bottle back to him. “Is it really still six more days of driving before we arrive?”

“If things go smoothly, it might only be five days. But there are some places where we need to stop and sightsee, so the journey could be delayed. In any case, don’t be anxious. If you feel uncomfortable, go lie down in the car. If it’s inconvenient to tell me, just tell Ruodi. She’ll take care of you.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. I’m just thinking—if even breathing is this difficult, what would it feel like to live here long-term?”

“People adapt to their environment.” He knew she was worried about her father. He pointed to Dorje standing casually in the distance. “Look at Dorje. He truly loves this place and doesn’t find life here harsh at all.”

She looked over. Just then, Dorje also looked in their direction, waved his hand, and revealed his snow-white teeth in a smile. Gao Xiang smiled and waved back at him.

“Ruodi really likes to travel and always uses her holidays to go out. I’m different from her. Since starting university, I’ve spent all my spare time working. Thinking about it now, having too little experience outside of work makes life rather dull. Not everyone has the opportunity to come here, so try to let everything else go and really enjoy the journey.”

He hadn’t expected a response, but she softly said “Mm.”

After a brief rest, they continued on the road. Exiting Lazi and entering the Xinjiang-Tibet Highway, Gao Xiang drove while Old Zhang took a break. Despite the headache, he rubbed his hands together and said, “This time we’re only going through Ali, but if I have time in the future, I definitely want to travel this entire route properly.”

Sun Ruodi looked at the materials in her hand and exclaimed, “My goodness, Old Zhang, that’s too ambitious. You know the Xinjiang-Tibet Highway goes from Gar County to Yecheng County in Xinjiang—a total of 1,179 kilometers.”

“Right. Along the way, you have to cross five mountains over 5,000 meters high, pass through sixteen ice mountain passes and forty-four glacial rivers, traversing several hundred kilometers of uninhabited zone. It’s the world’s highest-altitude, most difficult highway, and one of the most dangerous road sections.” Old Zhang was obviously intimately familiar with this. “I know a friend who drove this route alone and drove all the way back to Beijing from Yecheng.”

Sun Ruodi could only express admiration. “Getting to Ali is already enough for me to die happy.”

She turned to ask Zuo Si’an, “Xiao An, what’s the farthest place you’ve been to before? Where do you most want to go?”

She was just responding to Gao Xiang’s instruction to try to bring Zuo Si’an into the conversation. But unexpectedly, Zuo Si’an thought about it and answered, “When I graduated from elementary school, my parents took me to Beijing. The place I most want to go is Kanas in Xinjiang. My dad said it’s the most beautiful place he’s ever been. He also said he’d take me and Mom there if he had the chance.”

“When I was your age, I only left the city limits when school organized spring outings. I was so innocent my brain was almost blank. I had no imagination about the outside world at all.”

Old Zhang also laughed heartily. “That’s right. My childhood and adolescence were the same. A friend of mine analyzed that this is probably why I later retaliated by wanting to visit every place I haven’t been to.”

“Is there anywhere more remote than here?”

Although Zuo Si’an seemed more to be talking to herself than asking a question expecting others to answer, Old Zhang still nodded affirmatively. “There must be. I firmly believe it.”

Gao Xiang glanced at Zuo Si’an in the rearview mirror. She was still lost in thought, but her expression wasn’t as dazed as before. He guessed it wasn’t so much that his words had much effect on her, but rather that communication was a natural human need after all. Traveling in such sparsely populated areas, even seeing an oncoming vehicle would bring small excitement. Not to mention the lively Old Zhang—even the usually quiet Sun Ruodi was far more talkative than in the lowlands. For a fourteen-year-old child, the artificially self-imposed isolated state would eventually be broken.

 7

Zuo Si’an’s sole purpose in coming to Ali was to see her father. Gao Xiang had no understanding of or longing for Ali—he was only there to escort her to fulfill this wish. Old Zhang had long ago set his sights on seeing all the world’s scenery and experiencing life’s limits. Sun Ruodi, like the young couple from Northeast China, Da Ming and Xiao Yun, urgently wanted to see the novel world. And the twenty-eight-year-old southern girl Shi Wei wholeheartedly longed to find faith and spiritual sustenance. Everyone came here with different purposes. Whether hastily setting out or fully prepared with research, truly setting foot on this vast land of over 300,000 square kilometers with an average elevation of 4,500 meters, they all felt the same awe.

The sky here was clear and pure blue. Large clusters of white clouds seemed within reach. The sun appeared exceptionally bright, not setting until ten o’clock at night. Looking around, all colors were rich and saturated. The air was exceptionally fresh, making hearts beat faster. Every movement had to be slowed down.

On this plateau, mountains gathered and great rivers originated. With rich topography, the entire journey traversed narrow canyons that seemed endless, passed continuous towering snow peaks. Along the way were both vast meadows and grasslands, as well as desolate, uninhabited expansive Gobi deserts. When you thought the wilderness outside the car window would never end, lakes as green as jade and as deep blue as the ocean would suddenly appear before you. The brilliant starry sky, incense-wreathed temples, colorful prayer flags fluttering in the wind, mani stone piles, Tibetan pilgrims prostrating in full-body worship, lonely tents in the wilderness, purely smiling Tibetan children, solemn and magnificent sacred mountains and holy lakes—all imprinted themselves in their minds.

The magnificent scenery made them exclaim with joy, while the wreckage of trucks beside the highway constantly reminded them to abandon all romantic fantasies—the shadow of death wasn’t actually far away. The headaches and chest tightness caused by oxygen deprivation plagued everyone constantly. Food was monotonous. Lodging was usually dormitory beds in small county towns without typical sanitary facilities—they could only simply brush teeth and wash faces.

They spent almost all their time on the road, constantly moving without pause toward the next unfamiliar place name shown on road signs. The roads were more treacherous than anticipated. Many sections of the long highway line lacked maintenance. The roads were very bumpy. Rough gravel roads mysteriously disappeared at times, forcing them to carefully drive by tire tracks. On the fourth day after departure, both vehicles had consecutive flat tires. After using up spare tires, with no village ahead and no inn behind, they had to stop in place, shivering in the bitter cold wind, craning their necks in hope, spending most of the day waiting for passing vehicles to rescue them. Late at night, they finally waited for a large truck that towed them for two hours to a temporary resting point consisting of two tents. The tent owners were a Tibetan couple who welcomed them to squeeze in together. Just as everyone had barely settled down, they suddenly heard Zuo Si’an scream outside, her voice carrying uncontrollable terror.

They hurriedly grabbed flashlights and ran out. In the chaos of swinging light beams, they saw her standing not far from the tent, curled up in a ball.

“What happened?”

“Did you see a wolf?”

“Impossible. There are Tibetan mastiffs here. Wolves won’t come near.”

Zuo Si’an huddled there. After a while, she barely answered, “A mouse suddenly jumped out.”

Everyone was stunned, then they all laughed. Sun Ruodi smiled and said, “Xiao An, it’s just a mouse. Was it necessary to scream so terrifyingly?”

Gao Xiang also laughed. “Hey, you scream just as much when you see cockroaches, as if you’ve seen a murder scene.”

Sun Ruodi shot him a look and was about to speak when he smoothed things over. “Alright, it’s very cold outside. Let’s go in.”

When they went in, he said to Zuo Si’an, “It’s okay. Everyone isn’t laughing at you. It’s not strange for girls to be afraid of mice.”

She didn’t speak, but in the starlight, her face was deathly pale, obviously still in extreme panic, not like a simple fright.

“What’s wrong, Xiao An?”

“I…” She hesitated, finally saying quietly, “I’ve had nightmares about mice. Suddenly seeing a mouse run past so close scared me.”

He relaxed. “It was just a dream. Don’t be afraid. Don’t think about it anymore. Go inside.”

She lowered her head and walked into the tent.

The plateau climate changed constantly—sometimes sunny and warm with comfortable sunshine, sometimes wild winds wrapped in sand howling past, making it impossible to open one’s eyes, sometimes suddenly snowing heavily across the sky, covering everything so the road completely disappeared. Except for Gao Xiang and Sun Ruodi, the others had more or less travel experience. But facing the vast emptiness with no signs or traces of human activity visible, even the boldest person couldn’t help but feel afraid.

The Tibetan driver Dorje demonstrated abilities that seemed completely inconceivable to them. He could accurately identify the correct direction based on memory of mountain ranges and lake positions. Old Zhang marveled at this and specifically asked about the tricks involved. Although Dorje could speak fluent Chinese, he couldn’t explain accurately. When pressed to the end, he could only scratch his head and laugh awkwardly. Old Zhang had to admit this was an innate talent that couldn’t be learned even if one wanted to.

On the evening of the sixth day after leaving Lhasa, having passed through six counties—Shigatse, Lazi, Ang Ren, Saga, Zhongba, and Pulan—Gao Xiang’s group finally reached Shiquanhe Town, the transportation hub of the Ali region. A stretch of lights appeared before them in the distance. Actually, it couldn’t compare at all to the dense, prosperous lights of cities they were used to, but it was enough to make them cheer. Zuo Si’an’s eyes shone with excitement. Sun Ruodi teased her, “Stay calm, stay calm. Getting excited here consumes oxygen. You won’t have the strength to speak when you see your father.”

Zuo Si’an smiled awkwardly. Old Zhang took the others to check into a hotel while Gao Xiang took Zuo Si’an to get off first at the government guesthouse. She impatiently ran inside, then leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, unable to speak.

Gao Xiang followed in, couldn’t help but find it amusing, and gestured for her to calm down. He asked the front desk receptionist which room Zuo Xuejun was staying in. The receptionist looked them over. “County Magistrate Zuo has already gone to Cuoqin.”

Gao Xiang asked, “When will he be back?”

The receptionist shook his head. “I’m not sure about that.”

At this moment, a middle-aged man who was about to walk inside interjected, “Old Zuo went to take up his post in Cuoqin as county magistrate half a month ago. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

Gao Xiang was shocked and turned to look at Zuo Si’an. Her eyes went blank. She supported herself against the table to barely stand. He quickly steadied her. “Don’t worry. I’ll just take you to Cuoqin.”

The middle-aged man said, “You can’t walk fast here, and you can’t get excited either. Quick, have her lie down on the sofa.”

The receptionist was very kind and immediately brought hot tea for Zuo Si’an to drink. The middle-aged man scolded Gao Xiang, “How could you bring a little girl to this place? Not to mention taking her to Cuoqin. That’s the county with the highest altitude and harshest conditions in the entire Ali region. Even adults would have trouble going up there, much less—”

Before he could finish, Zuo Si’an suddenly cried out “Waa,” but it was as if an invisible hand immediately blocked her mouth. The crying stopped. She gasped rapidly, her face turning blue, her lips purple, her hands and feet convulsing. Gao Xiang was frightened and immediately picked her up, asking the receptionist, “Where’s the nearest hospital?”

The middle-aged man quickly stopped him, immediately rolled a newspaper into a cone shape, tore the tip to expose a small hole, pressed the wide end tightly to Zuo Si’an’s face, and told her not to be afraid—just breathe inside the mask.

Gao Xiang asked worriedly, “Is this enough?”

“She has respiratory alkalosis,” the middle-aged man explained to Gao Xiang. “It’s a type of altitude sickness. Simply put, she’s breathing too deeply and rapidly, expelling all the carbon dioxide from her body. Using this mask, she breathes the expelled carbon dioxide back in. She’ll be fine after a while. Your face doesn’t look good either. Sit down and rest quickly.”

Gao Xiang let out a long breath, only then realizing he was dizzy, his heart racing as if about to jump out of his throat. His legs went so weak they couldn’t support standing. He tried to put Zuo Si’an down but couldn’t muster the strength. At this moment, Zuo Si’an moved the makeshift mask away slightly and said hoarsely, “Sit down quickly.”

He sat on the sofa holding Zuo Si’an, staring tensely down at her. The mask covered most of her face, leaving only a pair of curved eyes visible, their gaze hollow as they looked at him. This seemingly simple measure actually worked. Her breathing gradually returned to a normal rhythm. Her body relaxed and quieted in his arms.

He exhaled in relief, his whole body suddenly going slack. In the small front hall of the guesthouse, people came and went from time to time. A TV in the corner played a Tibetan-language program they couldn’t understand. Gao Xiang sat motionless. Under the combined effects of disappointment and altitude sickness, a feeling of utter exhaustion and emptiness struck him. His heartbeat was heavy. His limbs lost coordination. His brain seemed unable to effectively transmit any action commands. All thoughts left him. Only the little girl in his arms clutched his lapel, staring fixedly at him, reminding him he must keep breathing and try to return to normal. He subconsciously held her tighter, and she nestled deeper into his embrace.

After a long while, Zuo Si’an recovered first. She climbed out of Gao Xiang’s arms and stood before him, looking at him with concern. “What’s wrong with you?”

His head ached as if it would split. He forced a smile. “Nothing.”

She wasn’t convinced. After hesitating, she raised her hand and used her ice-cold fingers to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead, then handed him the hot tea the receptionist had brought over. He didn’t really want to move or feel thirsty, but afraid she’d worry, he reluctantly accepted it and took a sip.

The middle-aged man watched them curiously. “What do you need County Secretary Zuo for?”

“He’s my father. I want to see him.”

The middle-aged man was stunned. “My name is Zhou. I also came from inland to aid Tibet. Before your father went to Cuoqin, he roomed with me. Little girl, why aren’t you in school but have come all this way?”

Zuo Si’an didn’t explain, only repeated, “Uncle Zhou, I want to see my father. Is Cuoqin far from here? Is it really very harsh there?”

Old Zhou’s eyes suddenly reddened. “It’s still a daughter who thinks of her father. You’ve come this far already. Going to Cuoqin isn’t that far. Don’t worry. It just has a higher elevation. Everything else is fine. Tomorrow I’ll see if there’s a ride going that way for you.”

Gao Xiang said, “Thank you, but we drove here. We won’t trouble you.”

“Little girl, sit here.” He said to Gao Xiang, “Come with me. I’ll give you a detailed traffic map.”

Old Zhou took Gao Xiang to the back and suddenly asked him, “What’s your relationship with Old Zuo?”

“I’m a friend of his family. His wife asked me to bring his daughter here.”

Old Zhou nodded. “There are some things I can’t say in front of that little girl. You know we cadres who came from inland to aid Tibet are here alone. There’s really no other entertainment here. After finishing work, we definitely talk about our families, about life inland. Only Old Zuo is strange—brooding, heavy with worries. In the three-plus months we roomed together, he never picked up this topic, and I’ve almost never seen him call home. I thought he was alone without family. I never imagined he had such a lovely, devoted daughter. Does he know his daughter is coming?”

Gao Xiang could only shake his head.

“The organization originally arranged for Old Zuo to work at the regional administrative office. He insisted on going to the harshest place. I’m worried…” He was obviously experienced in human affairs and hesitated mid-sentence. “You’d better call Old Zuo first. Don’t let him break that little girl’s heart.”

“We’ve already come this far. Whatever her father says, I must take her to see him. He loves his daughter.”

“I’m also a father. How could I not love such a good daughter? Sigh.” Old Zhou sighed, not continuing this topic. He took out a map and opened it, pointing it out to him. “Anyway, you’ll be returning to Lhasa from here to go back inland. Take this route—it passes right through Cuoqin. The road is somewhat easier to travel, just no scenery along the way. Be very careful on the road. As for Cuoqin, sigh, you’d better be mentally prepared. The conditions there really are very harsh.”

Gao Xiang came out. Zuo Si’an sat motionless on the sofa, her body curled up small, her eyes immediately looking toward him, filled with terror, as if she were a child forgotten in a strange place by adults, afraid that any movement would lose the hope of being found.

He walked over and extended his hand to her. “Let’s go. We’re going back to where we’re staying.”

She stood up, hesitated, then carefully grasped his fingers. The two walked slowly out.

The night in Shiquanhe Town was unusually quiet and deserted. Wind wrapped in dust roared and assaulted them head-on. Waste paper and empty plastic bags on the road tumbled about. They couldn’t see a single pedestrian. The houses on both sides had sparse, scattered lights, crouching silently in the darkness with an indescribable eeriness. She involuntarily drew closer to him. The two walked slowly on the empty street.

“How far is Cuoqin from here?”

“Not far—about a day and a half’s journey. When I get back, I’ll discuss it with Old Zhang and the others. Don’t worry. I’ll take you there.”

“But I heard Sister Ruodi say the itinerary has all been planned, and there are still many places she wants to visit.”

“She’ll understand.”

“But—”

“Don’t think too much. You came to see your father. I came to take you there. I’ll get you there, Xiao An.”

She stopped talking, only gripping his palm tightly. The two walked slowly forward. The dim streetlights stretched their shadows longer and longer until they gradually merged with the deep black of night.

 8

The travel companions were gathered in the room eating instant noodles. Hearing that Gao Xiang planned to take Zuo Si’an to Cuoqin the next day, everyone looked at each other, all very surprised. Their original itinerary was for Zuo Si’an to reunite with her father in Shiquanhe for two days while they went sightseeing at Pangong Tso, only a hundred-plus kilometers from Shiquanhe, then take the scenery-rich “Super Northern Route” back to Lhasa together.

If they continued traveling together, it meant they had to change plans—return via the minor northern route, first to Cuoqin, then back to Lhasa. If they parted ways here, it meant they each had to drive back to Lhasa alone, unable to rescue each other on the road. After experiencing the dangers of the journey here, everyone understood that regardless of which route they took, they had to travel together. If isolated, they would face many unimaginable dangers.

In the silence, Shi Wei spoke first. “Then let’s take the minor northern route and take Xiao An to meet her father.”

Old Zhang chimed in, “I agree. This route is also good.”

After the two of them took positions, although Da Ming and Xiao Yun were reluctant, they felt too embarrassed to say anything more. Zuo Si’an sat to the side, head lowered, not speaking. Old Zhang noticed her tense, stiff-shouldered posture and said playfully, “Buddy here has been out too long on this trip and had enough adventures. It’s good to head home earlier to work and earn money for the next trip.”

Sun Ruodi quickly said, “That’s right. I also need to go back to revise my thesis. Gao Xiang still needs to go home and help take care of his little cousin.”

Gao Xiang was startled and quickly looked at Zuo Si’an. She first looked bewildered, then her expression froze, her face suddenly turning deathly pale. He hurriedly changed the subject. “Old Zhou told me that ‘Cuoqin’ in Tibetan means ‘big lake.’ Inside the county is a large saltwater lake called Zarinnamtso, not well known but also very beautiful. We can go have a look.”

The hotel where they were staying had basic conditions, with only one bathroom with limited opening hours on the first floor next to the boiler room. After eating noodles, everyone collected their washing clothes and rushed downstairs to shower. The bathroom was enclosed. Staying in it too long made oxygen deprivation worse. They didn’t dare take chances and quickly washed until refreshed before coming out, all feeling light and agile as if their altitude sickness had lightened.

Sun Ruodi went into the boiler room to get hot water to wash clothes. Gao Xiang accompanied her. She suddenly sighed, “We were supposed to go to Balin Township to see Tibetan antelope and wild donkeys, to visit the Guge Kingdom ruins at Dongga Township in Zanda. Now we’ll have to give up all of it.”

“When you saw the sacred mountains and holy lakes, you were so excited you said you were completely satisfied and could die without regrets.”

“But coming here is so difficult. Of course I want to visit all the worthwhile places. She continued counting places in their plans. “Pangong Tso is so close but we can’t go. There are also the Ritu rock paintings, the Qiangtang lake groups in Nagqu, the mysteriously vanished Xiangxiong culture sites, Stone Age sites, the Alung Valley burial groups… Sigh, we’ll miss all of these. We finally got here. What a pity.”

“Ruodi, don’t say this in front of Xiao An.”

“Have I said it? Haven’t I been generous enough? But that girl is so self-centered and rude. She treats everything everyone does for her as if it’s natural, not even saying a word of thanks. Her expression is so strange too. Just now I told her to go shower, but she kept a straight face and refused. I really don’t know what she’s being moody about.”

He couldn’t explain for Zuo Si’an and was somewhat displeased. “Kids this age are probably all a bit difficult.”

“I’ve never seen another kid as difficult as her.”

“You also know she’s still a child. Be more tolerant of her.”

Sun Ruodi got angry. “You’re being overly tolerant of her while being too harsh on me. I’m your girlfriend. I’ve already been accommodating enough. Just venting privately to you a bit, and you criticize me like this?”

“I’m not criticizing you. I just—”

“Just I can’t criticize her, right? I really don’t understand why you’re so protective of her. You didn’t even consult with me beforehand—you just directly said you’re going to Cuoqin.”

“Ruodi, Old Zhang and Shi Wei love travel even more than you. The itinerary was painstakingly arranged by them, yet they all gave up those places you mentioned without hesitation, not mentioning their regrets. Besides, if not for taking Xiao An here—”

Sun Ruodi suddenly became furious. “Are you reminding me to be grateful to Xiao An? That without her, you wouldn’t have brought me here at all?”

Gao Xiang sighed, only feeling that oxygen deprivation had probably affected his brain. He said in a conciliatory tone, “Don’t get angry here. It consumes oxygen. Your body won’t be able to handle it.”

But Sun Ruodi was already so angry her chest heaved up and down, her breathing uneven. She stood up, opened her mouth. For a moment, she was short of breath and couldn’t say anything. She could only vigorously shake the soap bubbles off her hands and storm off.

Gao Xiang felt very annoyed. His head throbbed faintly. He wanted to smoke but knew that smoking here would be working against his own lungs. Just having this thought made him start coughing uncontrollably. He squatted down gloomily to continue washing clothes when he suddenly heard a voice say, “Are you catching a cold? Let me help you wash them.”

He looked up to find Zuo Si’an coming around from behind the boiler with a plastic basin containing washed clothes.

“How long were you standing there?”

“I came in first. You can’t accuse me of eavesdropping.”

This childish statement made him torn between laughter and tears. He stood up. “She’s angry with me, not with you.”

She pursed her lips in a slightly mocking expression. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Alright. You can’t be angry at her for what she said to me privately.”

“I know.”

Gao Xiang was somewhat surprised and didn’t want to continue this topic. “I’ll wash the clothes myself. You go take a shower quickly.”

She lowered her head silently. He could only patiently say, “This is probably the only place where you can shower before getting back to Lhasa. You wouldn’t want to meet your father looking dirty, would you?”

She didn’t answer.

“Soon they won’t be supplying hot water. Look—no wonder Ruodi criticized you. She kindly told you to go shower, but you insisted on being difficult and ignoring her. Aren’t girls supposed to love cleanliness?”

She still didn’t move or speak. He became somewhat irritated. “Xiao An, I know you’re unhappy and can’t force you to pretend to be happy. But except for me, no one else has any reason to bear the burden of your troubles. Treating them this way is unfair.”

She looked up at him and said softly, “On my belly… there’s a scar, very noticeable. I don’t want to go into the bathroom and have them see it.”

Gao Xiang froze, remembering the cesarean section she had undergone over four months ago. For a moment, he had nothing to say. The boiler room fell utterly silent except for a faucet dripping water, that drip-drop sound monotonous and unsettling. After a long while, Zuo Si’an walked over and tightened the faucet, then spoke again. “I’m sorry for causing you to quarrel. I really wasn’t being difficult with anyone or deliberately giving anyone attitude. Sister Ruodi has been very good to me all along. I’m not angry at her, and I hope she won’t be angry at me.”

Gao Xiang waved his hand. “Forget it. She won’t stay angry.”

“I just… don’t really know what to say. Of course I’m grateful to you… and to everyone. Everyone changed their itinerary and gave up a lot for me. If I just say thank you, it’s nowhere near enough for everything you’ve done for me.”

She suddenly broke free from her withdrawn state and the particular awkwardness children have facing adults. She looked him directly in the eye, expressing herself sincerely and fluently, surprising him even more. Water vapor filled the boiler room. She stood only a few steps from him yet seemed somewhat blurred and indistinct. She hadn’t washed or groomed properly for days. Her clothes were covered in dust, her hair tangled, but that face reddened by intense UV radiation appeared unusually calm, as if she had suddenly grown up a bit, acquiring the characteristics of a young woman.

Gao Xiang felt an indescribable emotion. “Ruodi will understand. No need to say more. The bathroom still has fifteen minutes before closing. Shi Wei and the others have all gone up. No one’s in there now. Go shower quickly.”

 9

From Shiquanhe Town to Cuoqin required passing through Geji, Xiongba, Gaize, and Dongcuo—nearly 800 kilometers.

The first day went fairly smoothly. On both sides of the road, the yellow wasteland occasionally showed small “tsos” like palette colors. Sometimes thin, winding little rivers flowed quietly. Suddenly they’d enter vast expanses of white, snow-covered saline-alkali land. However, their group had already experienced too much scenic stimulation. Going this route again, everyone felt tired and couldn’t muster enthusiasm for appreciation.

Zuo Si’an was always silent. Sun Ruodi was sulking and refused to talk, her camera never leaving her hand now set aside. Even Old Zhang and Gao Xiang chatted sporadically. The atmosphere along the way was quite gloomy.

The next day on the road, the weather was very overcast. As elevation increased higher and higher, everyone began experiencing varying degrees of difficulty breathing and severe headaches. Sun Ruodi and Xiao Yun’s symptoms were especially serious. They had to take out portable oxygen tanks and start breathing oxygen. Gao Xiang also felt his heartbeat extremely irregular with some breathing difficulty.

During a stop to rest, everyone got out for brief activity. Zuo Si’an suddenly tugged Gao Xiang’s sleeve and asked quietly, “Are you alright?”

He shook his head.

“But your complexion looks terrible. And today you seem to be constantly drinking water.”

He was indeed terribly thirsty. He hadn’t expected her to notice this. He looked at her. Her face was equally pale and haggard, her lips somewhat purple. “I’m fine. Don’t force yourself either. Tell me immediately if anything feels wrong.”

By noon, they had entered Cuoqin territory. Hail suddenly began falling—crystalline particles the size of fingertips densely pelting the car roof and windows with heart-stopping sound. The muddy road became even more rugged and difficult. The car jolted violently, forcing them to advance at a slow speed. But after rounding a mountain pass, the car Gao Xiang was driving suddenly sank into a mud pit. The wheels spun idly, immediately becoming completely stuck.

The men from both cars got out and began placing stones under the wheels as much as possible. The bitter cold wind cut like knives. Hail pounded painfully on their heads. Gao Xiang was crouching by the wheel stuffing stones underneath when he suddenly noticed that the stones being brought to his side were carried by a pair of slender hands. He started, turned around, and found Zuo Si’an had gotten out at some point and kept bringing stones from the roadside.

“Get back in the car quickly. You’ll catch cold.”

Zuo Si’an shook her head and continued gasping for breath as she picked up stones. When tired, she’d squat for a while. After catching her breath somewhat, she’d continue. Shi Wei also came down to help, moving as slowly as she did.

Gao Xiang clearly understood that moving stones on the plateau took much more effort than usual. Even as a young, strong man, he felt overwhelmed—headache aside, breathing became doubly difficult. How much more so for Zuo Si’an, just a child who had undergone cesarean section four months ago and been seriously ill three months ago. He glanced at her thin figure, very worried in his heart.

After laying stones, they hung steel cables. Dorje drove the front vehicle, Old Zhang the rear one. At a shouted signal, both cars started simultaneously. Everyone pushed from behind together. The engine roared. The cable stretched taut as a rod, but the rear vehicle still didn’t budge. Disappointed and exhausted, they could only continue finding more stones to fill under the wheels.

Zuo Si’an carried stones over, stumbling and staggering, and slipped and fell in the muddy water. Gao Xiang reached out to pull her up, saw blood on her hands, and said sternly, “You’re not allowed to do this anymore.”

She still ignored him. He picked her up, opened the car door, and forcibly shoved her inside. “Ruodi, help her clean and bandage the wound. Don’t let her out of the car.”

He slammed the door hard, only feeling utterly exhausted, his heart pounding wildly, his throat burning as if on fire, a continuous “buzzing” ringing in his ears. Looking at Dorje, Old Zhang, Shi Wei, and Da Ming, they were all the same, leaning against the car gasping heavily.

Old Zhang waved his hand weakly. “Rest a bit. Otherwise, we can’t handle it.”

They each leaned against the car to rest. The hail had stopped, and goose-feather snowflakes drifted down, whirling and circling above their heads and around them. Old Zhang looked worriedly at the dark, leaden gray sky. “If the snow doesn’t stop, we’ll be in trouble.”

Dorje suddenly called out loudly, “There’s a car coming.”

An off-road vehicle with headlights on slowly approached. Several people waved desperately. The vehicle stopped, and three men got out simultaneously, all wearing felt hats and thick green military cotton coats. One of them, speaking Mandarin, asked, “What happened?”

Old Zhang said, “The car’s stuck. There’s too much mud—we can’t tow it out.”

The man came over and crouched down to examine it, saying calmly, “Don’t worry. We brought shovels.”

He stood up and walked to the back, calling to the driver to open the trunk. At this moment, the door of the car Gao Xiang was leaning against suddenly opened. Zuo Si’an rushed out. Sun Ruodi stuck her head out calling, “Hey, you child—I told you not to get out. Don’t go make trouble!”

Gao Xiang was also somewhat angry. “Xiao An, get back in the car.”

Zuo Si’an didn’t pay attention to them. She ran toward that man, splashing through muddy water the whole way, and hugged his waist from behind, calling hoarsely, “Dad.”

The man seemed to freeze in shock. After a long while, he slowly turned around.

At this moment, Gao Xiang also recognized him—he was indeed Zuo Si’an’s father, Zuo Xuejun. But his skin had become dark and rough. Like many people here, due to prolonged oxygen deprivation, his face was somewhat swollen, completely unlike his refined appearance in Qinggang. He was still in a state of shock, staring at his daughter before him as if unable to believe his eyes.

“Dad, it’s me. It’s Xiao An.” Zuo Si’an pleaded with him. He finally came to his senses and slowly raised his hand to embrace his daughter.

This scene moved everyone. No one spoke. Only the wind howled past between them. After a long silence, Zuo Xuejun patted his daughter’s back. “Come. Get in the car and wait. Dad will help them tow the car out first.”

They had brought tools and obviously had rich experience dealing with this situation. Efficiency immediately improved greatly. An hour later, the vehicle finally broke free from the mud pit. Zuo Si’an got into her father’s car. That vehicle led the way in front while they set out again. Sun Ruodi held Gao Xiang’s hand and said softly, “You were right. We should take Xiao An here.”

Gao Xiang didn’t speak. On one hand, he was extremely fatigued with a splitting headache, his body as heavy as that off-road vehicle just dragged from the mud pit. On the other hand, while Zuo Xuejun had obviously recognized him after releasing his daughter, he glanced coldly at him without any expression of gratitude, then methodically arranged the towing steps, his manner very calm, showing no joy at reuniting with his daughter.

He had never hoped for any gratitude, but Zuo Xuejun’s self-restrained attitude gave him a strong sense of unease.