Having eaten and drunk their fill, everyone was pleasantly buzzed, and they opted to walk back to the Deji Guesthouse on foot. Passing through the square in front of the Potala Palace, they slowed like the many other tourists around them, tilting their heads back to gaze up at the divine palace on Marpori Hill. Under the night sky, the Red Palace and the White Palace were equally striking. Every year, many devotees willingly offered milk and yak butter, ensuring that the Potala Palace’s butter lamps never went out and the white walls — painted with milk — remained forever holy and serene.

A group of tourists was being led past by a tour guide when someone among them received a phone call — ringtone set to a song called “I Want to Go to Tibet.” In ordinary life it was nothing but a cheerful melody belted out by older folks doing square dancing, but standing in this vast and mysterious highland, after everything they had been through, you could finally hear what the song truly meant.

The light of the Buddha passes through The boundless desolation A voice speaks in peace and joy At dawn I beat my wings on white clouds At night I prostrate myself in your paradise All living things flow along the Yarlung Tsangpo Time stretches ever longer at the Potala Palace …

“Every year, so many people rush to Tibet to ‘cleanse their souls.'” Ba Yunye raised her chin slightly. The brilliant city lights were reflected in her eyes, like the vast sweep of a galaxy ablaze with stars. “A clean soul doesn’t need cleansing. A filthy soul can’t be cleaned no matter how hard you scrub.”

Xiang’an stood beside her. “What does Tibet really mean to visitors, then?”

Ba Yunye smiled. Her hands were tucked in her trouser pockets — a very easy, unaffected stance. “Every mountain range here is an ancestor on your family’s ancestral hill. Every small river is the father of your mother rivers back home. It takes you far from the life you’ve grown tired of, lets you look down on the dust and vanity of the world, lets you feel the heaven and earth and rivers and mountains that no human force can shake, and lets you witness what true devotion looks like. Of course, you’ll feel like you don’t amount to much here — but once you go back, you can dine out for years on the story of your journey into Tibet and have people think you’re impossibly impressive. For example, years from now when you have grandchildren, you can tell them: your grandfather once stood on the highest public square in the world and discussed the meaning of Tibet with Master Ba.”

Xiang’an listened with a dazed, captivated expression — his sense of admiration growing stronger by the second.

Diao Zhuo was not so easily impressed. He posed a pointed question: “So then — what makes the grandfather impressive in the grandson’s eyes? The fact that he once stood on the world’s highest public square, or the fact that he once discussed the meaning of Tibet with Master Ba?”

“Of course it’s…” Ba Yunye started to answer, then caught herself. Whoever answered that question was calling themselves the grandson! She shot him a withering glare, fuming. “I am the grandfather here!”

Everyone stifled a smile and kept walking, breaking off into small groups and chatting as they went.

As it turned out, Long Ge was quite interested in the rescue team. He said he was thinking of applying to become a volunteer, to do some good for society. He tore open a new pack of cigarettes and passed one to each person who smoked, flipping the lighter in his fingers as he asked, “Leaving tomorrow? Why not stay a few more days and let Master Ba take you around the area, or pick up some genuine local specialties to bring home.”

Tan Lin smiled, “Next time — we’ll come as tourists, and let Master Ba give us a proper tour.”

Long Ge was just being polite and didn’t press them. “Fair enough. Master Ba, you see them back to the guesthouse — I’ve made plans with some old friends to go settle this year’s caterpillar fungus. River Horse, you haven’t drunk much — come with me.”

River Horse was reluctant. Long Ge pulled a long face, and River Horse immediately plastered on a smile, hunched his shoulders, and shuffled after him. Long Ge threw an arm around him, tucking him in like a little chick under one wing, and walked off berating him for having no situational awareness. “You and your fixation on following Master Ba around.”

“For crying out loud, it was you who told me to partner with Master Ba when I left the Blazing Sun convoy to join you! And now you’re complaining that I’m always around her!”

“You’re a light bulb. Can’t you see that Diao Zhuo and Master Ba have been exchanging glances back and forth?”

“All I’ve seen is Master Ba casting glances at him — but the great Team Leader Diao has never cast any glances back.”

Watching the figures of Long Ge — round — and River Horse — lean — walk away arm in arm and shoulder to shoulder, Ba Yunye waved a hand to signal for everyone to follow her. “How are you all getting out tomorrow? Flying?”

Da Qin said, “Diao Zhuo and I are flying direct to Xi’an. The others have layovers in between.”

“Anyone going to Yunnan?” Ba Yunye said with a grin.

“What for?”

“I’m heading back to Lijiang in a few days to take a group of clients on the Dian-Tibet Route.” She said, “Whoever’s heading to Yunnan, I can take you on the way. We pool together and see if anyone else is going — just split the fuel costs.”

“What a mind for calculation…” Da Qin said, exasperated.

Diao Zhuo asked, “Do you live in Lijiang?”

Ba Yunye shook her head. “Too many tourists in Lijiang.”

Da Qin’s eyes lit up. “But Lijiang is great — it’s the city of chance romantic encounters…”

“Lhasa is also a city of chance romantic encounters.” Ba Yunye theatrically covered her eyes. “If you don’t want to go back to the guesthouse, vanish now. I’ll pretend I didn’t see you, and I guarantee I won’t tell anyone.”

“We are all perfectly respectable people,” Da Qin emphasized.

“Perfectly respectable people can still have chance romantic encounters.” Ba Yunye shrugged. “Since you’re passing up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, just come along with me.”

Xiang’an glanced at her and said with genuine feeling, “Meeting Master Ba on this trip was itself the greatest chance encounter of all.”

“Wonderful! You all have my contact information — once you’re home, if any of your family or friends want their own ‘chance encounter,’ send them my way. Shared rides, chartered vehicles, whatever they need — we can accommodate any group size.” Ba Yunye never missed a chance to drum up business for the club.

“You money-minded creature!”

The group laughed and talked their way back to the guesthouse, sat in the courtyard a while longer drinking tea to sober up, and then gradually dispersed.

Every time Ba Yunye came to Lhasa to rest and regroup, she stayed at the Deji Guesthouse. After so many visits, whenever it wasn’t peak season, she had grown accustomed to staying in the room on the very end of the ground floor — the one with the plaque reading “Namche Barwa” — a standard double room. Open the window and you could see the courtyard bathed in sunlight, brilliant with blooming primrose flowers. When Long Ge happened to be brewing sweet tea, the fragrance reached her room first of all.

She swiped the card to open the door, stretched a long, lazy stretch, tossed her coat onto the bed, and was just about to close the door when she heard familiar footsteps. She poked her head out — Diao Zhuo.

His room was on the third floor. He was making his way around the corner toward the stairs.

“Hey, perfect timing — do me a favor, would you?” Ba Yunye turned her back to him and pointed at the button at the back of her sweater’s collar.

The button didn’t actually need to be undone before the sweater could be pulled off — with her characteristically no-fuss approach, she could just yank up the hem and wrestle it over her head without a second thought. But since she was going to flirt, she was going to see it through to the very last moment.

This was the night for it. Dark sky, strong wind — prime hours for mischief.

Diao Zhuo suspected nothing. He stepped forward, swept her hair aside, and set about undoing the button at the back.

Ba Yunye could feel the warm, faint breath he exhaled — carrying the mingled scents of wine and tobacco — brushing past the side of her neck with each breath. A few strands of loose hair near her ear stirred in the subtle current of air, tickling her sensitive earlobe with a restless, irrepressible itch that reached somewhere deep inside.

Diao Zhuo’s mind was occupied with something else, and he was oblivious to the charged intimacy of the moment. He had been mulling it over for a while, and he finally decided to speak: “There’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you, about…”

Ba Yunye suddenly stepped backward, her back pressing against him. A woman’s figure is naturally curved — what did she expect to happen pressing against him like that? It was the most direct and the most brazenly provocative move possible, its intent completely transparent.

Diao Zhuo was taken aback. The words that were about to leave his mouth were swallowed back down, and a rush of heat flooded from somewhere below up into his brain. He didn’t step away. In fact, he planted himself more firmly and pressed forward — meeting the curve of her back exactly. He calmly finished undoing the small button at the back of her collar, then, when he was done, lifted one leg behind him, propped his foot against the door, and with a light kick — thud — shut it.

Now we’re getting somewhere.

The corner of Ba Yunye’s mouth curved upward.

“Ba. Yun. Ye.” He sounded out each character of her name, slow and deliberate — as if biting down on each one, as if savoring every syllable. “You are way too wild for your own damn good.”

She turned around and looked at him with a faint smile. Her eyes held the fierce, defiant certainty of someone who already knew they had won.

Diao Zhuo turned his back to her — and Ba Yunye felt the light in her eyes dim. Then she watched as he gave the double lock a firm twist, and bolted the door from the inside.

Ba Yunye laughed again. “Tonight, no one is walking away.”

Diao Zhuo swept her up and hoisted her over his shoulder. “Just don’t chicken out on me.”

Ba Yunye was dumped onto the bed. He came down over her. She let out a small, startled shriek. “Ah! If I’d known, I would have told you to shave first — that stubble is scratching me to death!”

A contest between two wild forces. The battle grew heated. No thought for the past, no thought for what was to come.

By morning, the air in Lhasa was cool and dry. Some guests who wanted to catch an early trip to Namtso Lake had risen before dawn and hurried out. Others who had pre-booked tickets to visit the Potala Palace were strolling over at their leisure. A family of three who had driven all the way from Longyan in Fujian Province had checked in the night before, the father having suffered a bout of altitude sickness that kept him running to the bathroom for several days. Long Ge helped arrange for the vehicle to be shipped back to Longyan through a transport company. The family of three had no choice but to fly home to Fujian — which, as it happened, coincided with the same time the rescue team members were heading to catch the airport shuttle bus.

Long Ge’s sweet tea had run dry. He glanced at the time — a few minutes shy of nine o’clock. He looked across at the room across the way, its door still firmly shut, and let out a heavy sigh. He said to River Horse, “What is Master Ba doing — everyone’s about to leave, and she’s sleeping in?”

“She’s not even answering her phone,” River Horse complained. “If I weren’t afraid she’d come out and beat me to a pulp, I’d go knock on her door myself.”

Diao Zhuo had slipped out of Ba Yunye’s room a little after five o’clock in the morning, gone back to take a shower, and was now already refreshed and clear-headed — no trace of a night’s worth of indulgence visible on him. Whether she came out to say goodbye made no difference to him, frankly. What weighed on him was that he still hadn’t told her about his father or her elder sister — and that unfinished business had quietly become a knot in his chest.

The truth was, even if Ba Yunye got up right now, he wouldn’t know where to begin.

“Long Ge, River Horse — take care.” Da Qin, Tan Lin, Xiang’an, and the rest filed out with their rolling suitcases, smiling and waving their goodbyes.

The rescue team members and the family of three from Longyan left one after another. The inner courtyard, which had been noisy and crowded just moments ago, suddenly fell quiet and empty. River Horse was briskly clearing the cups, chatting with Long Ge about a recent scam going around where tourists were being sold fake celestial beads. Before they knew it, it was nearly noon — and only then did Ba Yunye emerge, languid and unhurried, dropping into a rattan chair, legs crossed at the knee, scrolling through Weibo and posting to her friend circle to attract more clients:

Eagle’s Wing Club — Western Routes, year-round departures. June 5th: Sichuan West–Yunnan West Loop, 8-day itinerary now open for reservations. Two vehicles departing together from Lijiang, heading to Daocheng Yading, disbanding in Chengdu. All you gorgeous young travelers — come find your chance encounter. What are you waiting for?

“Master Ba, who knew you could be so heartless! You’ve really broken Team Leader Diao’s heart!” River Horse propped his chin on his hand and stared at her. “You couldn’t win him over, so now you’re acting like the wounded one. You failed to handle him, and now it looks like you’re the one who dumped him!”

Ba Yunye raised one eyebrow and gave him a sidelong look. “And how do you know I failed? He’s probably pining for me as we speak.”

River Horse let out a scoff.

Long Ge made a dish of spicy blood curd stew for lunch. When things quieted down, he asked, “This trip to Qiang Tang — what did you take away from it?”

“Got to fire a gun again.” Ba Yunye rubbed her hands together with a nostalgic expression. The last time she had fired one — when was that? She glanced sideways at Long Ge. Ah, never mind, too embarrassing even to mention — and if not for Long Ge then…

Long Ge looked mildly surprised. “Nothing else?”

Ba Yunye smiled, a little deviously. “… Diao Zhuo turned out to be not very resistant to flirting, actually.”

“And?”

“That’s all.”

Long Ge let out a slow breath, a quiet suspicion rising in his chest. This whole trip, and neither of them had brought up Diao Jun or Ba Xiye? Not even once?

Ba Yunye stretched lazily and began reviewing the video footage and photos she had taken near Zou Kaigui’s body. The sharp, pointed summit of Gama Mountain looked strangely familiar — like she had seen it somewhere before, though she couldn’t be certain enough to say so.

After the accident, the personal effects of everyone involved had been sent back to their respective hometowns. Among her elder sister’s belongings, she had found a wallet — one that didn’t look like it belonged to her sister at all, but more like a man’s. Inside the wallet, tucked alongside a family photo of three people, were three more photographs: one black-and-white, two in color.

The man in the family photo was perhaps the wallet’s true owner. His wallet had been kept close to her sister’s body and was returned as part of her effects. Ba Yunye had never told anyone about this. If she had, it would have been nearly the same as confirming the rumors that her elder sister had been involved with a married man.

On the back of the black-and-white photo was written: “Photographed at Yuzhu Peak in XX month, XX year” — the year had been blurred by some kind of liquid, the characters no longer legible. The people in the photo were so thoroughly bundled in hats, masks, and sunglasses that their faces were impossible to make out — but Ba Xiye was likely not among them. The other two photos had no inscriptions and no indication of where they had been taken: one showed a mountain, the other looked like a desert lake. Even Long Ge — who boasted of having traveled across half of China — could not identify the locations in the two photos.

One of them — a mountain with a sharp, blade-like peak — looked almost identical to the Gama Mountain she had photographed on this trip. She had thought briefly about asking Diao Zhuo to help her identify it, but the idea had flickered out just as quickly. She didn’t entirely trust him yet.

“What are you looking at? If there’s anything interesting, send it to me!” River Horse had made it his ambition to become a travel personality on short video platforms. In the past few days, he had gained quite a following just from posting short clips of the Qiang Tang crossing — his view count had climbed to over ten thousand.

Ba Yunye thought it over and closed her phone. “Nothing — what I shot is the same as everything you’ve got. Oh — Long Ge, are you really planning to take over that courtyard in Lijiang?”

Long Ge nodded. “Go take a look for me when you head back. I just managed to recover some funds recently — we can start renovations right away.”

“When will I ever save up enough money to lease a courtyard in Dali and just settle in there?” Ba Yunye mused aloud.

River Horse laughed and teased her. “Are you planning to settle down, get married, and have children?”

“Forget it.” The very mention of it made her want to retreat. “You men are all undying devotion and seven rounds a night when you’re in love — and then barely married and it’s ’emotionally unavailable’ and all the rest of it. Who can put up with that?”

Long Ge and River Horse exchanged a glance, and shifted their eyes away awkwardly to stare at the sky.

After a brief silence, she spoke more slowly. “And besides — some people can abandon their own flesh and blood without a second thought. What’s the point of marriage and children?”

Long Ge thought of the stretch of Ba Yunye’s life she had spent growing up in the orphanage. He patted her shoulder in quiet comfort. She had wanted to leave school and start working after finishing middle school — he had talked her back into high school. After finishing high school, she had wanted to go out and earn money right away — he had held her back. Not that money was her burning concern, exactly. The bigger issue was the younger ones in the orphanage — the “little brothers” who needed money for medical treatment. In their orphanage, there were more girls than boys, but it was the girls who mostly grew up safely. The boys, one by one, passed away. Why? Girls were abandoned simply because of their gender. Boys who were abandoned usually had illnesses that could not be cured and cost too much to treat. From what Ba Yunye had told him, some of the little brothers died at two or three years old, others had barely managed to live to ten before failing to hold on.

Long Ge understood Ba Yunye too well. She appeared the most carefree of anyone — but in truth, she could never let go of too many things.

Ba Yunye stretched. “I want to be free like this my whole life. I have no interest in being tied down by anyone.”

“There’s no saying ‘free like this’ as a chengdu…” River Horse mocked. “Uncultured.”

“Fine, fine — I’m uncultured.” Ba Yunye was completely unbothered. She stuck her thumb up and pointed it at her own nose. “You two active-duty, well-past-your-prime single men can stop pushing me — the reserve-roster, well-past-her-prime single woman — to get married and have children. I’m living the good life right now!”

“Go on! I’m nothing like you — I’ve been married and divorced!” River Horse shot back with contempt.

Ba Yunye burst out laughing. River Horse was actually more than ten years older than her — not only had he been married and divorced, he even had a daughter. Because his height and presence were both no match for hers, he ended up looking more like her sidekick even though he was older.

Long Ge didn’t join in their bickering. He gazed blankly at a corner of the courtyard. He himself had not been without a marriage — only that it wasn’t yet time for what Ba Yunye described as emotional unavailability and all the rest of it when his beloved had passed away, far too soon.

River Horse and Ba Yunye were still going at it. Long Ge flipped open today’s morning newspaper. The news of the Beidou Rescue Team’s deep push into Qiang Tang to recover Zou Kaigui’s body occupied nearly half a page. In the journalist’s interview with the team members who had participated in the rescue, not a single one of them had mentioned anything about the Celestial Lake.

“Beidou Rescue…” Long Ge turned the name over quietly in his mind. It seemed he had something in mind. Professor He Zhengren — one of the witnesses to the accident all those years ago — was currently one of the senior advisors to the Beidou Rescue Team’s headquarters. Relying on Ba Yunye alone wouldn’t be enough. He too would need to take his own steps, one by one, toward the truth.