From the novel: I Promise You a River of Stars

The convoy pulled over in a sheltered spot out of the wind. Everyone broke out camp stoves and pressure cookers; some boiled noodles, others gnawed on compressed biscuits. Back when they’d passed through Songxi Village, they’d also bought steamed buns and air-dried mutton — a luxury they couldn’t afford to finish too quickly.

The ham sausages they’d brought were frozen stiff; while waiting for them to thaw, Ba Yunye pulled out the Beidou communicator and sent a brief message to those outside, letting them know all was well.

“Is the water we brought enough?” Xiao Zi asked worriedly.

“Qiang Tang is cold, but it’s not a desert — water isn’t scarce. As long as you can find clean ice and snow, melt it, heat it, and you can drink it.” Ba Yunye tore open a ham sausage and dropped it into a bowl of instant noodles that was almost done soaking.

Xiao Zi wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Won’t there be parasites?”

She fired back: “If you were a parasite, would you rather live in the Pearl River Delta, or out here?”

“Master Ba… here, have some of this — it’ll warm you up.” Ye Xun sidled over with a smile, holding a jar of Laoganma chicken oil chili sauce, his eagerness as transparent as a politician’s ambition.

“Thank you.” She was perfectly polite in that moment, took it and poured it straight into her noodles. When she handed it back, she caught his eye: “You know I’m feeling chilled, too?”

Several people who had witnessed Ba Yunye nearly come to harm laughed coldly inside.

Ye Xun quickly changed the subject: “Captain Diao, so we’re heading to the Changre Protection Station, right? The last place Zou Kaigui was spotted?”

Diao Zhuo had just taken a sip of hot water; his throat moved as he swallowed. “According to the information given by the first two search-and-rescue teams that went in, after he was registered and checked by armed border police, they took him to a nearby protection station for a meal. The following morning he departed and was never heard from again.”

“He won’t have followed his original route.” Ba Yunye separated a pair of disposable chopsticks and broke them apart; the steam and aroma of the noodles rose together. “The armed border police at the checkpoint would have warned him to turn back along the same route he came in on. After that, to avoid checkpoints and protection stations, he’d have to detour by twenty to thirty kilometers.”

Diao Zhuo agreed with her assessment and opened the satellite map. “Once we reach the Changre Protection Station, we’ll ask about Zou Kaigui’s situation, then veer slightly off the standard route and search as we go.”

Ba Yunye ate a couple of bites, then raised her head to look at the sky in the distance, looking somewhat uneasy.

“What is it?” Diao Zhuo asked.

“Weather changes are hard to predict out here. I’m worried about a sudden blizzard.” Ba Yunye pointed toward the horizon. “From the look of things, there’s definitely one coming.”

“It’s already May — it can still snow…?” Xiao Zi was wide-eyed with astonishment.

River Horse glared at her. “Never mind Qiang Tang — it snows all the time in Tibet even in July and August.”

Xiao Zi let out a sharp breath. “That’s terrifying…”

Ba Yunye slurped her noodles; perhaps out of concern for Xiao Zi, she patiently explained: “I told you earlier, water isn’t scarce here because there are so many lakes. The cold keeps the ice hard, which is what allows vehicles to cross. Now it’s May, with big temperature swings between day and night — the ice thaws a little during the day, then when temperatures drop at night it freezes back over. So some lakes that look solidly frozen actually aren’t. Don’t go out onto any lake surface without me, understand?”

“Like falling through an ice hole the way they do in TV dramas?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s certain death!” Xiao Zi’s face went pale with fright.

Ba Yunye laughed. “Just eat your noodles! I’ve only been talking to you for a moment and your soup’s already half cold.”

They had hoped to reach the Changre Protection Station that evening, but the weather took a turn for the worse. By afternoon, the wind was howling savagely, reducing the world to a murk of sandy yellow and cutting visibility severely. After crossing a mountain pass and descending to the lowest point — a relatively flat plain — everyone had no choice but to make camp.

The dashboard altimeter read 5,228 meters.

“Snow’s coming…” She sighed. “Tonight will be very cold. Everyone take care — absolutely do not catch a cold.”

Just past seven in the evening, the sky darkened unnaturally early, and within moments the blizzard arrived, blanketing everything. Ba Yunye and Xiao Zi shared a tent; on the ground were moisture-proof pads, and two sleeping bags rated to withstand -30°C were laid out side by side.

Heavy snow is nothing like heavy rain — it lands on the tent with a soft, muffled pattering sound. Xiao Zi couldn’t resist reaching outside and scooping up a handful. She wasn’t a stranger to snow — but the snow at home melted quickly in your hand, and even if it didn’t, left your palm cold and soaking wet, chilling you to the bone. Qiang Tang’s snow was, apart from being pure white, strangely light and airy — loose and dry. Even cupped in her palm, it didn’t turn to slush. When she tossed it back outside, her hand was still smooth and dry.

“Go to sleep.” Ba Yunye wriggled into her sleeping bag, yawned, and looked thoroughly exhausted.

Xiao Zi climbed in too and still couldn’t stop shivering. The altitude was too high, the air too thin; she felt her breathing was strained and her heart was racing. She turned over several times and only felt worse — a headache, a heavy, stifling pressure in her chest.

Ba Yunye must have felt the cold too; she switched on a torch and checked the thermometer. “Nearly minus twenty degrees.”

In the dark, Xiao Zi was quiet for a moment, then spoke: “Master Ba, I saw everything today. Mr. Ye wouldn’t let you into the car.”

Ba Yunye let out a dry laugh. She’d almost forgotten, and now Xiao Zi brought it up again.

As Hegel noted in his Logic, essence and inner character can only be proved real and true when they manifest as outward phenomena. Ba Yunye had always sensed Ye Xun was not what he appeared; today’s events were proof enough.

She said with indifference: “So what? It’s nothing. Besides, a client’s safety comes before my own. If opening the door posed any risk, I’d rather he kept it shut.”

“Sometimes I feel like people in business are really… one face for show, and a different one behind the curtain.”

“Simple solution: just do the same with him — one face to his face, a different one behind his back.”

“Master Ba, I really admire you.”

“Oh.” Ba Yunye received the compliment without pride.

“You’re so free. It seems like no web of social obligations can trap you. It’s because you look like you fear nothing that others fear you.”

“I have things I’m afraid of too.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Not making enough money. And I don’t feel particularly free, because wherever the client wants to go, I can only go there too.”

“Every gain has its price!”

“Fair enough. Gain money, lose worry.”

Xiao Zi burst out laughing. As a person knows best what it’s like to walk in their own shoes, Ba Yunye smiled silently in the dark.

“I want to be like you.”

“You’re afraid of too many things.” Ba Yunye said. “What’s so scary about that smiling tiger?”

Xiao Zi fell silent.

Ba Yunye added: “Worst case, leave it all behind, go somewhere new, start over.”

A warmth rose in Xiao Zi’s chest — the idea of leaving Ye Xun’s company felt like a kind of rebirth, something she’d previously not dared to imagine. She thought of Ye Xun’s words — “say what needs to be said, keep quiet about the rest” — and so she went ahead and said something that didn’t need to be said: “Actually, Mr. Ye has known all along that Zou Kaigui was planning to cross Qiang Tang.”

Ba Yunye’s heart gave a sudden lurch.

Xiao Zi went on: “I work in finance at Mr. Ye’s company. He’s sponsored every one of Zou Kaigui’s cycling trips. Zou Kaigui was basically a promotional banner for the company’s activities. In the days before Zou Kaigui entered Qiang Tang, Mr. Ye transferred a sum of money to him.”

“The number of people who can solo trek across Qiang Tang is tiny, and many who go in never come out. If Mr. Ye wanted to use Zou Kaigui for publicity, why would he let him attempt something this dangerous? Doesn’t he fear losing his investment as a businessman?”

“He’s not afraid — Zou Kaigui had taken out a lot of insurance.” Xiao Zi blurted it out quickly, then suddenly pressed her lips shut.

A lot of insurance — the image in Ba Yunye’s mind suddenly became crystal clear.

She recalled that news reports had mentioned Zou Kaigui’s wife had long since divorced him, leaving only him from the family. What were the terms under which Ye Xun had funded his cycling over so many years — purely for advertising? And where had Zou Kaigui gotten the money to take out so much insurance, and why had he been so foresightful as to do it? If he had insurance, who was the beneficiary?

Ba Yunye didn’t want to follow that line of thinking any further.

Many people maintain their carefully constructed personas in the city’s crowded spaces, but the moment they enter the no-man’s land, they’re exposed in ways that are almost too much to witness. Ye Xun wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last.

In the middle of the night, the snow seemed to have stopped; thick drifts had piled up on both sides of the tent, and the temperature inside rose by a few degrees. Ba Yunye took out her phone, connected it to the Beidou communicator, and sent Long Ge a text message asking him to dig deeper into Zou Kaigui’s background.

At dawn, the sky had cleared completely. The sky again showed that piercing blue, and the distant peaks were sharp and clear. The ground — a mix of sand and snow — looked as if dusted with ash. Qiang Tang resumed its grandeur; sunlight fell gently on every living thing.

The hissing of a pressure cooker drew in several curious Tibetan wild donkeys. Most of their bodies were covered in reddish-brown fur, with white fur across the chest and belly, and they were twice the size of ordinary donkeys — more like horses. While everyone ate breakfast, the wild donkeys didn’t leave; they paced back and forth, occasionally lowered their heads to graze, but spent most of their time cautiously watching this group of humans — much like kindergarteners watching tigers at the zoo.

“Much cuter than wild yaks.” Xiao Zi held her bowl and couldn’t help smiling.

“Did everyone sleep okay?” Ba Yunye asked the group.

Diao Zhuo said: “Not bad.”

Da Qin had two dark circles under his eyes. “Too cold, too much wind. Didn’t close my eyes all night.”

Xiang’an stretched out a long yawn, still looking drowsy.

Ye Xun said: “Awful. I felt terrible.”

River Horse, who treated Ba Yunye like a fellow man and didn’t bother to hide a thing, said: “Same as always — I dropped off the moment I lay down. Only real misery was getting up to pee in that cold. Absolutely brutal!”

Ba Yunye slapped her knee with a laugh: “Learn to endure it — once you get back out of the no-man’s land, you’ll have leveled up into a master practitioner of the art of holding it in!”

Several people burst out laughing at once. Having spent these days together, everyone seemed accustomed to treating her like one of the guys.

Heading east into the rising sun, the convoy drove toward the Changre Protection Station. Cresting a small dirt rise and reaching the bottom, something dark and shapeless suddenly appeared in the path ahead. Ba Yunye reacted fast and swerved around it; the vehicle behind didn’t react in time and drove straight over it, the car lurching with the impact.

Ba Yunye jumped out to look — it was a bear cub. Everyone gathered around. Diao Zhuo got out from the passenger seat of the third vehicle, glanced at it, and his brow creased. “It’s already dead.” Qi Zi, who had driven over it, let out a distressed “oh no” and looked very guilty.

When everyone came closer, they saw what Diao Zhuo meant — it had died before the car ran over it. A poaching snare had been looped around its neck, and its face and body were covered in dried bloodstains. The broken end of the rope was ragged and uneven — it had apparently wrenched itself free from the trap by force, or perhaps bitten through it. It had clearly fought desperately to escape the poacher’s snare, but could not survive the severe injuries and the rope cutting into its throat, and had fallen here. Judging by how desiccated the body was, it had been dead several days.

“Oh dear,” Ye Xun said, covering his chest as though unable to look. “Let’s find a spot to bury it!”

Ba Yunye said: “Digging here would take too much time. We’ll have to move it to the side, so at least passing vehicles don’t run over it again.”

Several people moved the cub’s body carefully; then they stood in silence.

Ba Yunye sighed again, her heart not in it — completely unlike her usual breezy manner. “There are more animals the deeper you go. Everyone keep your eyes open.”

Xiao Zi asked curiously: “Are there Tibetan antelope?”

“Right now is the pregnancy season for female Tibetan antelope. They absolutely must not be disturbed. That’s one of the reasons the Hoh Xil and Qiang Tang reserves prohibit unauthorized crossings.”

As she spoke, she glanced imperceptibly at Ye Xun. His face was blank, as though he still saw nothing wrong with having allowed or even funded Zou Kaigui’s crossing. He even said with interest: “Do you know where we could see them? We’ve come all this way — if we can spot a herd of Tibetan antelope, that’d be quite something.”

Ba Yunye shrugged and said she didn’t know.

Ye Xun still wasn’t satisfied, pressing: “You must have seen them on previous trips in here?”

“It’s a protected area. Who would dare wander in casually? It’s not as though I’m a poacher.” She gave a derisive snort, pulled the gaiter up around her neck to cover her mouth and nose, and kicked the ball toward the Beidou Rescue Team: “Captain Diao, when your team went to Hoh Xil before — did you see Tibetan antelope?”

“Never mind all that. We didn’t come in here for sightseeing.” Diao Zhuo saw she didn’t want to say more and ended the topic for her, waving everyone back into the vehicles.