Chapter 46: Hometown
Chuchen's grandmother opened the cabinet, taking out an almost century-old, yellowed photograph that she treasured.
Eighty-three years ago, when she was just a seven-year-old girl, she took a photo with her father, mother, grandfather, and grandmother in front of the Potala Palace. The photo was taken by an Englishman.
Another black-and-white photo was even older, passed down before Chuchen’s grandmother was born. It showed her young grandfather in a suit, and indeed, there was a resemblance to Jiang Hong.
This photo was taken in 1890 when her grandfather was in his forties.
Chuchen pointed at the photo, explaining to them. Lu Xiu listened silently, then suddenly looked at Jiang Hong's face with a strange expression.
“What does it say?” Jiang Hong took the photo, quite puzzled.
“Chuchen says his grandmother's family were local chieftains,” Lu Xiu explained, “After marrying into their family, she brought some old photos. Ordinary people didn't have the privilege to be photographed. It was an Englishman who took these photos.”
Jiang Hong said, “It does look a bit like me, indeed.”
"Do you feel familiar with this place?" Lu Xiu suddenly asked.
Jiang Hong: “I... don’t feel anything.”
Lu Xiu fell silent. Jiang Hong was still suffering from altitude sickness, his head throbbing intermittently, making it hard to concentrate. He understood what Lu Xiu meant. It couldn’t be possible, right? It’s already been confirmed... Overwhelmed with thoughts, Jiang Hong felt a bit of avoidance, not wanting to delve deeper into what this might imply.
"Are there more photos?" Lu Xiu asked again, this time forgetting to switch to Tibetan, but Chuchen still understood and got up to help his grandmother to the attic.
Jiang Hong said, “It's just a resemblance. Didn’t you say that child died young, probably never married, or had children?”
Lu Xiu didn’t respond, just quietly looking at the photo of Chuchen's great-grandfather.
After a while, Chuchen returned with his grandmother, who was holding a small photo frame, handing it over and saying a few words.
This time, Chuchen translated: “His brother, his brother.”
The photo showed a very young boy, around thirteen or fourteen, smiling radiantly.
As soon as Lu Xiu glanced at it, his hand started trembling uncontrollably, his gaze fixed on Jiang Hong.
That was unmistakably Jiang Hong!
The two fell into a prolonged silence. Lu Xiu gripped the photo frame tightly, no longer looking at the photo, instead staring blankly at Jiang Hong.
In that moment, as he gazed at Jiang Hong, Lu Xiu’s eyes were reddening.
“This…” Jiang Hong didn’t know what to say.
“Does it resemble?” Chuchen asked with a smile, playfully commenting, “It does! Drink! Lu Xiu! Drink!”
Lu Xiu stared blankly at Jiang Hong, while Jiang Hong also looked at Lu Xiu, somewhat at a loss.
The boy in the photo was unmistakably Jiang Hong's spitting image – the eyebrows, nose, and smile were identical.
Chuchen spoke a few more words to Lu Xiu, but Lu Xiu seemed to turn a deaf ear, standing still like a statue. Jiang Hong glanced at Lu Xiu and then back at the photo in his hand.
“Passed away,” Chuchen mimed a 'child' gesture, even though the boy in the photo was no longer a child, and explained, “He died in his teens, sick.”
“Can I...” Jiang Hong said, “take a photo of this? I don’t know why, but it’s like seeing myself…”
Chuchen gestured that it was fine, making a motion and attempting to hand the photo frame to Jiang Hong, who hastily refused. Chuchen's grandmother came over, her face filled with kindness, insisting he keep the photo.
Jiang Hong's mind went blank, and he ended up keeping the photo close to his chest.
“I believe it now,” Lu Xiu suddenly said.
Jiang Hong: “What… what?”
Everything had happened so fast that Jiang Hong was still reeling. Lu Xiu said, “I believe in fate now. From this moment, I accept the arrangements of destiny.”
He suddenly stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the heavy snow, then turned back to gaze at Jiang Hong.
“Senior…” Jiang Hong said uneasily, “It might not be like that, right? My head hurts so much. It's not amnesia, but altitude sickness... No, I can’t think straight right now, I... I need to rest a bit.”
Jiang Hong felt like he was about to collapse. He had started the day with a slight headache, then visited Yamdrok Lake, encountered a blizzard, and now felt even worse due to the heating. His whole body was overheating as if someone was hammering at his forehead.
“You sleep,” Lu Xiu said, returning to his side, “Rest your head on my lap for a while. Come on, Chuchen! Keep drinking! I want to see how long you can go!”
Jiang Hong: “…”
Jiang Hong lay on his side, and Lu Xiu bent one leg on the couch to let Jiang Hong rest his head on it, explaining Jiang Hong's altitude sickness. Soon after, Chuchen's mother brought over a blanket and covered Jiang Hong with it.
Lu Xiu started drinking with Chuchen. Amidst the crisp scent of the highland barley wine, Jiang Hong drifted in and out of sleep, his head aching terribly, but gradually feeling a bit better.
After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Hong felt himself being lifted.
“What time… is it?” Jiang Hong asked. “Oh, Chuchen has passed out? I have... too.”
Lu Xiu carried Jiang Hong into another room, laid him on the bed, and sat quietly beside him, watching him without speaking. Jiang Hong opened his mouth to say something, but Lu Xiu fed him an ibuprofen tablet. After drinking some water, perhaps due to a placebo effect, Jiang Hong felt slightly better.
He opened his eyes and looked at Lu Xiu, the dim room lit only by a bedside lamp.
Jiang Hong managed a weak smile and said, “I kind of hope... it's me. Honestly, I was quite happy just now. Really.”
Lu Xiu's eyes reddened again. This time, he turned his face away, not wanting Jiang Hong to see clearly, and reached out to stroke his head.
In this quiet moment, someone knocked at the door. It was Chuchen's mother, and Lu Xiu got up to answer.
Chuchen's mother brought two Tibetan robes, smiling and saying something. Lu Xiu pondered for a moment, then thanked her with a gesture of hands pressed together and took the robes.
“You have altitude sickness; you can't bathe today,” Lu Xiu said, returning to Jiang Hong, “Change into clean clothes before sleeping.”
“Ah, Tibetan robes!” Jiang Hong exclaimed, “I’ve always wanted to try them on... I feel much better now. What time is it... only ten o'clock, it’s so early...”
Lu Xiu: “…”
After taking the ibuprofen, Jiang Hong felt revived and started to move around energetically.
“Let me see?” Jiang Hong jumped up, “How do I wear this? Left over right, or right over left? No, wait, I’m Han Chinese, is it a bit inappropriate—never mind, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Trying it on won’t hurt...”
Lu Xiu: “………………”
Jiang Hong: “Has the snow stopped? It looks bright outside. Shall we get dressed and go out for a photo later?”
Lu Xiu: “…………………………”
Lu Xiu showed Jiang Hong how to wear the Tibetan robe. As Jiang Hong was dressing up and looking in the mirror, Lu Xiu picked up the photo frame from the bed, gazed at it for a while, then looked at Jiang Hong with a gaze full of tenderness.
“Wow, so handsome! The most handsome in the world.” Jiang Hong admired his reflection in the mirror and urged, “You should put one on too. Let me take a photo of you, quickly.”
The white inner shirt and trousers, the dark red outer robe with bright yellow edges, black hunting boots – the clothing from Chuchen's family was finely made, complete with a white scarf tied inside the robe.
At this moment, Lu Xiu would agree to any of Jiang Hong's extravagant requests, even if he asked him to join in destroying the world.
After Lu Xiu changed into the robe, Jiang Hong immediately thought: Oh no, the title of the most handsome is about to change hands again…
Lu Xiu, with a well-built waist and strong shoulders, had milky white skin, slightly curly hair, clear eyes with a hint of redness. What was more remarkable was his presence when seated, emanating a majestic and powerful aura unique to a dragon.
“Want to see more?” Lu Xiu asked.
“No, no,” Jiang Hong replied, “This is enough... My head is starting to hurt a little again. I think I’d better lie down.”
Lu Xiu: “……”
Lu Xiu sat on the bed, and Jiang Hong crawled over, resting his head on Lu Xiu's lap. Having changed into clean clothes, he felt much more comfortable and warmer, with the room’s kerosene heater casting a yellow glow.
Jiang Hong picked up the photo frame, glanced at Lu Xiu, and noticed Lu Xiu was also looking at him.
“Did you bring me to this village on purpose?” Jiang Hong asked.
“No,” Lu Xiu replied, somewhat awkwardly, “I just remembered this place. I haven't come back here since you died.”
Jiang Hong: “I’m not dead yet!”
Lu Xiu: “Your past life, or perhaps, the life before that.”
Jiang Hong: “It doesn’t necessarily have to be me…”
Lu Xiu: “It is you, I always felt it was you, Jiang Hong. In my heart, there's always been a voice…” He paused, placing his hand on Jiang Hong’s head. This time, he didn’t look at the photo and stubbornly continued, “I thought, even if it’s not you, it doesn’t matter much. That’s why I came to Chongqing to find you... But now, none of it matters anymore.”
Jiang Hong: “Speaking of which, even if you couldn’t remember the face, didn’t you ask anyone for a name? I mean the guy in the photo, well, let's say he is my past life or the one before that.”
Lu Xiu: “Back then, I hardly knew how to interact with people.”
Holding the photo frame, Jiang Hong recalled Yuan Shiyu’s face and indeed, Yuan Shiyu didn’t resemble him.
“But my eyes and eyebrows are inherited from my mom,” Jiang Hong said, “How do you explain that?”
“It’s fate,” Lu Xiu replied, “Genetics aren’t always exact copies, there are always subtle changes that let you gradually manifest traces of life after life, lifetime after lifetime.”
Jiang Hong put down the photo frame, sat up and said, “Then where did it go wrong? Ah, my head is starting to hurt again... better lie down.”
Lu Xiu: “Maybe there was a sudden mistake, I should ask her again. No, the mistake was not hers, from beginning to end, it was all my own. I shouldn’t have wavered, sorry, Jiang Hong…”
“Nonsense,” Jiang Hong laughed, thinking to himself that it would be wonderful if it was really him, but in that moment, he didn’t dare to admit it, fearing another mistake and disappointment.
“But,” Jiang Hong said, “what did the sudden revelation say? It said the person you’re looking for is a descendant of a great Feng Shui master, which is definitely Yuan Shiyu. My ancestors weren’t Feng Shui masters, just ordinary people.”
Lu Xiu: “I don’t know, but you must be him. Definitely. Don’t doubt it anymore.”
But after much thought, in the end, it seemed they were just idling away — obsessing over past lives and such. Was there any point? Jiang Hong found it all quite absurd.
He didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but the morning sunlight on his face woke him up.
Finally, it was morning, and his altitude sickness had improved.
Lu Xiu was still sitting beside him. Jiang Hong’s outer robe had been removed at some point, leaving him in his white inner clothes, covered with a blanket. Lu Xiu had let him rest on his lap all night, holding the photo frame and watching Jiang Hong.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jiang Hong said, feeling embarrassed, “Senior! That look in your eyes is too suggestive! It could make someone's heart flutter!”
Lu Xiu laughed.
Jiang Hong sat up with a turn, feeling completely rejuvenated. Great! No more headache!
“Shall we go for a walk?” Lu Xiu suggested, “Breakfast isn’t for a while yet.”
Jiang Hong eagerly agreed. Last night's events felt like a dream. Before leaving the room, he saw the photo frame on the bedside table and remembered that it all really happened.
It was still snowing heavily outside, but without wind, the snow fell vertically, creating a gentle ambiance.
Wearing the Tibetan robe made him much warmer than yesterday. The robes of the Tibetans had a thick layer of yak felt lining for insulation. Outside Chuchen's house, the alley was flanked by eaves, forming a natural corridor. They walked under this corridor, heading to a small hill behind the village.
“This place feels so familiar to me,” Jiang Hong remarked.
Lu Xiu found this amusing and just laughed without responding.
Jiang Hong: “It’s like I’ve seen it somewhere before.”
Lu Xiu: “Hmm.”
Jiang Hong didn't know if it was psychological or a real awakening, but everything looked familiar. Reaching a small white pagoda at the top of the hill, they looked down at the village blanketed in snow, with rooftops covered in white and each household’s yak blanket door curtains hanging from the eaves.
Icicles hung from the trees, everything in sight covered in a thick layer of snow.
“Really,” Jiang Hong said, “I feel like I’ve been here before.”
Lu Xiu: “Yes, you have.”
Jiang Hong said seriously: “You must think I’m talking nonsense.”
Lu Xiu: “No, it’s just that this village was rebuilt later. Originally, it was all the estate of the Dewang chieftain, not so many houses.”
Jiang Hong awkwardly said, “I just feel like I’ve seen it before… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it doesn't matter,” Lu Xiu joined him, both looking at the peaceful village.
Despite the heavy snow, the villagers were already up and about. Living in this remote village during the dead of winter, there wasn’t much to do, so most of their time was spent visiting each other, playing cards, and watching TV.
Many young people, in groups of two or three, were playing in the heavy snow outside, throwing snowballs. When they saw Jiang Hong and Lu Xiu approaching, they shouted “Tashi Delek!” and threw a snowball, which Lu Xiu quickly blocked, getting his arm covered in snow.
“Tashi Delek!” Jiang Hong also shouted back, “Tashi… Tashi Delek…”
Jiang Hong joined them in the snowball fight, initially making snowballs for Lu Xiu. Soon, finding Lu Xiu too gentle, he rolled up his sleeves and joined in, chasing the others around.
Lu Xiu warned, “Don’t overexert yourself, or your headache will come back.” Then he grabbed Jiang Hong and walked away.
Chuchen came out to find them, inviting them back for breakfast. He seemed a bit dazed from last night’s drinking. He tried to grab Lu Xiu's hand several times, but Lu Xiu didn’t allow it, so Chuchen ended up grabbing Jiang Hong’s hand instead. Jiang Hong felt a bit awkward and managed to slip away.
Jiang Hong noticed that in Tibetan customs, young men often walked hand in hand, unlike the Han people who preferred to put arms around each other's shoulders. Though it seemed a bit ambiguously intimate, it felt very affectionate.
Back at Chuchen’s home, breakfast was a big pot of steaming noodles, with everyone sitting around the warm table, eating from small bowls.
Jiang Hong remarked to Lu Xiu, “Those young people like to walk hand in hand, it seems quite intimate.”
Lu Xiu explained, “Tibetans believe gods reside on their shoulders, so they avoid slapping or putting arms around shoulders, and instead hold hands. It’s not just young people; even old men in their seventies and eighties walk hand in hand.”
Oh, so that’s why…
After lunch, as the snow lessened, Lu Xiu bid farewell to Chuchen. Chuchen tried to persuade them to stay, but Lu Xiu mentioned he also needed to return home for the New Year. Jiang Hong even made a video call to his parents to greet Chuchen’s family.
Chuchen, reluctant to part with them, especially missing a drinking buddy like Lu Xiu, personally drove them to Lhasa. Upon leaving, Chuchen’s mother and grandmother came out to see them off, standing by the road until the car left the village.
“Look! Look!” Jiang Hong, sitting in the backseat, found a copy of National Geographic and said, “Shangri-La by Yamdrok Lake. I’ve read this issue before, I knew it.”
Lu Xiu was briefly conversing with Chuchen and, looking in the rearview mirror, said, “Alright, I understand, my mistake.”
Jiang Hong: “…”
Jiang Hong remembered where he had seen the village before, but again began to wonder why he couldn’t remember anything if he had truly lived there in a past life. His expression darkened again. Lu Xiu, who had been observing Jiang Hong’s every move in the rearview mirror, asked, “What’s wrong?”
After Jiang Hong shared his thoughts, Lu Xiu said, “It’s normal not to remember.”
Jiang Hong: “True, otherwise there wouldn’t be such a thing as reincarnation.”
Lu Xiu: “No, it’s because you were a fool in that life. Expecting a fool to remember something important is obviously unrealistic.”
Jiang Hong: “…”
Upon reaching Lhasa city, they said goodbye to Chuchen and drove off.
“Wow,” Jiang Hong exclaimed, “The Potala Palace looks so beautiful after the snow.”
With five days until the Spring Festival, the streets were full of Tibetans. There were very few tourists at this time, and Lhasa was filled with its indigenous people. Young couples holding hands were everywhere, some shopping, others making pilgrimages.
Jiang Hong booked a flight home for the next afternoon, deciding to spend the day exploring Lhasa.
“Let’s visit Barkhor Street and Jokhang Temple,” Lu Xiu suggested, “It’s rare for us to be here.”
“Okay.”
Jiang Hong and Lu Xiu were still wearing the Tibetan robes given to them by Chuchen's family. Blending in with the locals coming for pilgrimage and with Lu Xiu speaking Tibetan, they looked no different from the others.
"I can..." Jiang Hong started.
Lu Xiu: "?"
Standing outside the Jokhang Temple, Jiang Hong thought and finally said, "Can we... hold hands? Uh, I don’t mean anything else, just feel like..."
Lu Xiu didn’t answer verbally but took Jiang Hong’s hand, interlocking their fingers. They walked along the road like others, everything felt so natural.
The moment Jiang Hong held hands with Lu Xiu, it was as if an electric current passed through his heart – a very peculiar feeling. Holding hands in this interlocked fingers manner with Lu Xiu felt completely natural to him, but doing so with other boys would be awkward.
If two guys walked holding hands in their school, they would definitely be perceived as gay, but in the long streets of Octagon Alley, it seemed quite natural; nobody paid any attention to them. In the eyes of Tibetans, neither Lu Xiu nor Jiang Hong were considered handsome. Tibetans admire burly men with beards, so the two of them, with their fair complexions, just looked like young boys on the street.
"How's Yuan Shiyu doing?"
In the sweet tea shop, Jiang Hong saw Lu Xiu texting on WeChat and leaned in to take a look.
"Already deleted," Lu Xiu said. "I told him not to look for me anymore, to go to Xuan Hezhi if he needed anything."
Jiang Hong: "You deleted it just like that? You didn’t even verify it. What if it's a mistake again? And what about the issue with the descendant of the Feng Shui master…"
Lu Xiu firmly interrupted, "I don’t want to verify anymore. It’s an obsession, an inner demon. I must let go."
Alright, you’re right, Jiang Hong thought. But since the day they arrived at Yamdrok Lake, Lu Xiu seemed like a changed person. He never used to smile, and now, although rare, he occasionally shows a slight smile with upturned corners of his mouth.
"Principal Cao asked you to do him a favor."
"What is it?" Jiang Hong asked.
Lu Xiu said, "Chen Zhen requested Cao Bin to ask for your help in applying gold leaf to the Buddha statue in Dazhao Temple."
Jiang Hong: "Why me?"
Lu Xiu: "I belong to the demon clan. Although I am a dragon, I am still considered a demon. You are from the human clan, so that should be the reason. Let's go."
After visiting the Dazhao Temple, they checked into a twin room for the night, retrieved their stored luggage, and Lu Xiu, after a glance at the two beds, took the initiative to move over, urging Jiang Hong to make some space in his bed and squeezing in beside him.
"Do you want to spend the New Year at my place?" asked Jiang Hong. "Does that mean you won't be going back to school?"
Lu Xiu: "Yes, are you inviting me?"
Jiang Hong, seizing the advantage, teased, "Yes, otherwise you, a solitary dragon, would have a boring New Year's. So, I reluctantly invite you."
He thought Lu Xiu would threaten him a bit, but instead, Lu Xiu said: "Then I'll impose on you."
His temperament has really improved... I just don't know if it's temporary or permanent. Is this the arrangement of fate? On the day Jiang Hong left school, he never imagined that this trip to Tibet would once again change everything.
Chapter 46: Hometown
Chuchen's grandmother opened the cabinet, taking out an almost century-old, yellowed photograph that she treasured.
Eighty-three years ago, when she was just a seven-year-old girl, she took a photo with her father, mother, grandfather, and grandmother in front of the Potala Palace. The photo was taken by an Englishman.
Another black-and-white photo was even older, passed down before Chuchen’s grandmother was born. It showed her young grandfather in a suit, and indeed, there was a resemblance to Jiang Hong.
This photo was taken in 1890 when her grandfather was in his forties.
Chuchen pointed at the photo, explaining to them. Lu Xiu listened silently, then suddenly looked at Jiang Hong's face with a strange expression.
“What does it say?” Jiang Hong took the photo, quite puzzled.
“Chuchen says his grandmother's family were local chieftains,” Lu Xiu explained, “After marrying into their family, she brought some old photos. Ordinary people didn't have the privilege to be photographed. It was an Englishman who took these photos.”
Jiang Hong said, “It does look a bit like me, indeed.”
"Do you feel familiar with this place?" Lu Xiu suddenly asked.
Jiang Hong: “I... don’t feel anything.”
Lu Xiu fell silent. Jiang Hong was still suffering from altitude sickness, his head throbbing intermittently, making it hard to concentrate. He understood what Lu Xiu meant. It couldn’t be possible, right? It’s already been confirmed... Overwhelmed with thoughts, Jiang Hong felt a bit of avoidance, not wanting to delve deeper into what this might imply.
"Are there more photos?" Lu Xiu asked again, this time forgetting to switch to Tibetan, but Chuchen still understood and got up to help his grandmother to the attic.
Jiang Hong said, “It's just a resemblance. Didn’t you say that child died young, probably never married, or had children?”
Lu Xiu didn’t respond, just quietly looking at the photo of Chuchen's great-grandfather.
After a while, Chuchen returned with his grandmother, who was holding a small photo frame, handing it over and saying a few words.
This time, Chuchen translated: “His brother, his brother.”
The photo showed a very young boy, around thirteen or fourteen, smiling radiantly.
As soon as Lu Xiu glanced at it, his hand started trembling uncontrollably, his gaze fixed on Jiang Hong.
That was unmistakably Jiang Hong!
The two fell into a prolonged silence. Lu Xiu gripped the photo frame tightly, no longer looking at the photo, instead staring blankly at Jiang Hong.
In that moment, as he gazed at Jiang Hong, Lu Xiu’s eyes were reddening.
“This…” Jiang Hong didn’t know what to say.
“Does it resemble?” Chuchen asked with a smile, playfully commenting, “It does! Drink! Lu Xiu! Drink!”
Lu Xiu stared blankly at Jiang Hong, while Jiang Hong also looked at Lu Xiu, somewhat at a loss.
The boy in the photo was unmistakably Jiang Hong's spitting image – the eyebrows, nose, and smile were identical.
Chuchen spoke a few more words to Lu Xiu, but Lu Xiu seemed to turn a deaf ear, standing still like a statue. Jiang Hong glanced at Lu Xiu and then back at the photo in his hand.
“Passed away,” Chuchen mimed a 'child' gesture, even though the boy in the photo was no longer a child, and explained, “He died in his teens, sick.”
“Can I...” Jiang Hong said, “take a photo of this? I don’t know why, but it’s like seeing myself…”
Chuchen gestured that it was fine, making a motion and attempting to hand the photo frame to Jiang Hong, who hastily refused. Chuchen's grandmother came over, her face filled with kindness, insisting he keep the photo.
Jiang Hong's mind went blank, and he ended up keeping the photo close to his chest.
“I believe it now,” Lu Xiu suddenly said.
Jiang Hong: “What… what?”
Everything had happened so fast that Jiang Hong was still reeling. Lu Xiu said, “I believe in fate now. From this moment, I accept the arrangements of destiny.”
He suddenly stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the heavy snow, then turned back to gaze at Jiang Hong.
“Senior…” Jiang Hong said uneasily, “It might not be like that, right? My head hurts so much. It's not amnesia, but altitude sickness... No, I can’t think straight right now, I... I need to rest a bit.”
Jiang Hong felt like he was about to collapse. He had started the day with a slight headache, then visited Yamdrok Lake, encountered a blizzard, and now felt even worse due to the heating. His whole body was overheating as if someone was hammering at his forehead.
“You sleep,” Lu Xiu said, returning to his side, “Rest your head on my lap for a while. Come on, Chuchen! Keep drinking! I want to see how long you can go!”
Jiang Hong: “…”
Jiang Hong lay on his side, and Lu Xiu bent one leg on the couch to let Jiang Hong rest his head on it, explaining Jiang Hong's altitude sickness. Soon after, Chuchen's mother brought over a blanket and covered Jiang Hong with it.
Lu Xiu started drinking with Chuchen. Amidst the crisp scent of the highland barley wine, Jiang Hong drifted in and out of sleep, his head aching terribly, but gradually feeling a bit better.
After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Hong felt himself being lifted.
“What time… is it?” Jiang Hong asked. “Oh, Chuchen has passed out? I have... too.”
Lu Xiu carried Jiang Hong into another room, laid him on the bed, and sat quietly beside him, watching him without speaking. Jiang Hong opened his mouth to say something, but Lu Xiu fed him an ibuprofen tablet. After drinking some water, perhaps due to a placebo effect, Jiang Hong felt slightly better.
He opened his eyes and looked at Lu Xiu, the dim room lit only by a bedside lamp.
Jiang Hong managed a weak smile and said, “I kind of hope... it's me. Honestly, I was quite happy just now. Really.”
Lu Xiu's eyes reddened again. This time, he turned his face away, not wanting Jiang Hong to see clearly, and reached out to stroke his head.
In this quiet moment, someone knocked at the door. It was Chuchen's mother, and Lu Xiu got up to answer.
Chuchen's mother brought two Tibetan robes, smiling and saying something. Lu Xiu pondered for a moment, then thanked her with a gesture of hands pressed together and took the robes.
“You have altitude sickness; you can't bathe today,” Lu Xiu said, returning to Jiang Hong, “Change into clean clothes before sleeping.”
“Ah, Tibetan robes!” Jiang Hong exclaimed, “I’ve always wanted to try them on... I feel much better now. What time is it... only ten o'clock, it’s so early...”
Lu Xiu: “…”
After taking the ibuprofen, Jiang Hong felt revived and started to move around energetically.
“Let me see?” Jiang Hong jumped up, “How do I wear this? Left over right, or right over left? No, wait, I’m Han Chinese, is it a bit inappropriate—never mind, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Trying it on won’t hurt...”
Lu Xiu: “………………”
Jiang Hong: “Has the snow stopped? It looks bright outside. Shall we get dressed and go out for a photo later?”
Lu Xiu: “…………………………”
Lu Xiu showed Jiang Hong how to wear the Tibetan robe. As Jiang Hong was dressing up and looking in the mirror, Lu Xiu picked up the photo frame from the bed, gazed at it for a while, then looked at Jiang Hong with a gaze full of tenderness.
“Wow, so handsome! The most handsome in the world.” Jiang Hong admired his reflection in the mirror and urged, “You should put one on too. Let me take a photo of you, quickly.”
The white inner shirt and trousers, the dark red outer robe with bright yellow edges, black hunting boots – the clothing from Chuchen's family was finely made, complete with a white scarf tied inside the robe.
At this moment, Lu Xiu would agree to any of Jiang Hong's extravagant requests, even if he asked him to join in destroying the world.
After Lu Xiu changed into the robe, Jiang Hong immediately thought: Oh no, the title of the most handsome is about to change hands again…
Lu Xiu, with a well-built waist and strong shoulders, had milky white skin, slightly curly hair, clear eyes with a hint of redness. What was more remarkable was his presence when seated, emanating a majestic and powerful aura unique to a dragon.
“Want to see more?” Lu Xiu asked.
“No, no,” Jiang Hong replied, “This is enough... My head is starting to hurt a little again. I think I’d better lie down.”
Lu Xiu: “……”
Lu Xiu sat on the bed, and Jiang Hong crawled over, resting his head on Lu Xiu's lap. Having changed into clean clothes, he felt much more comfortable and warmer, with the room’s kerosene heater casting a yellow glow.
Jiang Hong picked up the photo frame, glanced at Lu Xiu, and noticed Lu Xiu was also looking at him.
“Did you bring me to this village on purpose?” Jiang Hong asked.
“No,” Lu Xiu replied, somewhat awkwardly, “I just remembered this place. I haven't come back here since you died.”
Jiang Hong: “I’m not dead yet!”
Lu Xiu: “Your past life, or perhaps, the life before that.”
Jiang Hong: “It doesn’t necessarily have to be me…”
Lu Xiu: “It is you, I always felt it was you, Jiang Hong. In my heart, there's always been a voice…” He paused, placing his hand on Jiang Hong’s head. This time, he didn’t look at the photo and stubbornly continued, “I thought, even if it’s not you, it doesn’t matter much. That’s why I came to Chongqing to find you... But now, none of it matters anymore.”
Jiang Hong: “Speaking of which, even if you couldn’t remember the face, didn’t you ask anyone for a name? I mean the guy in the photo, well, let's say he is my past life or the one before that.”
Lu Xiu: “Back then, I hardly knew how to interact with people.”
Holding the photo frame, Jiang Hong recalled Yuan Shiyu’s face and indeed, Yuan Shiyu didn’t resemble him.
“But my eyes and eyebrows are inherited from my mom,” Jiang Hong said, “How do you explain that?”
“It’s fate,” Lu Xiu replied, “Genetics aren’t always exact copies, there are always subtle changes that let you gradually manifest traces of life after life, lifetime after lifetime.”
Jiang Hong put down the photo frame, sat up and said, “Then where did it go wrong? Ah, my head is starting to hurt again... better lie down.”
Lu Xiu: “Maybe there was a sudden mistake, I should ask her again. No, the mistake was not hers, from beginning to end, it was all my own. I shouldn’t have wavered, sorry, Jiang Hong…”
“Nonsense,” Jiang Hong laughed, thinking to himself that it would be wonderful if it was really him, but in that moment, he didn’t dare to admit it, fearing another mistake and disappointment.
“But,” Jiang Hong said, “what did the sudden revelation say? It said the person you’re looking for is a descendant of a great Feng Shui master, which is definitely Yuan Shiyu. My ancestors weren’t Feng Shui masters, just ordinary people.”
Lu Xiu: “I don’t know, but you must be him. Definitely. Don’t doubt it anymore.”
But after much thought, in the end, it seemed they were just idling away — obsessing over past lives and such. Was there any point? Jiang Hong found it all quite absurd.
He didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but the morning sunlight on his face woke him up.
Finally, it was morning, and his altitude sickness had improved.
Lu Xiu was still sitting beside him. Jiang Hong’s outer robe had been removed at some point, leaving him in his white inner clothes, covered with a blanket. Lu Xiu had let him rest on his lap all night, holding the photo frame and watching Jiang Hong.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jiang Hong said, feeling embarrassed, “Senior! That look in your eyes is too suggestive! It could make someone's heart flutter!”
Lu Xiu laughed.
Jiang Hong sat up with a turn, feeling completely rejuvenated. Great! No more headache!
“Shall we go for a walk?” Lu Xiu suggested, “Breakfast isn’t for a while yet.”
Jiang Hong eagerly agreed. Last night's events felt like a dream. Before leaving the room, he saw the photo frame on the bedside table and remembered that it all really happened.
It was still snowing heavily outside, but without wind, the snow fell vertically, creating a gentle ambiance.
Wearing the Tibetan robe made him much warmer than yesterday. The robes of the Tibetans had a thick layer of yak felt lining for insulation. Outside Chuchen's house, the alley was flanked by eaves, forming a natural corridor. They walked under this corridor, heading to a small hill behind the village.
“This place feels so familiar to me,” Jiang Hong remarked.
Lu Xiu found this amusing and just laughed without responding.
Jiang Hong: “It’s like I’ve seen it somewhere before.”
Lu Xiu: “Hmm.”
Jiang Hong didn't know if it was psychological or a real awakening, but everything looked familiar. Reaching a small white pagoda at the top of the hill, they looked down at the village blanketed in snow, with rooftops covered in white and each household’s yak blanket door curtains hanging from the eaves.
Icicles hung from the trees, everything in sight covered in a thick layer of snow.
“Really,” Jiang Hong said, “I feel like I’ve been here before.”
Lu Xiu: “Yes, you have.”
Jiang Hong said seriously: “You must think I’m talking nonsense.”
Lu Xiu: “No, it’s just that this village was rebuilt later. Originally, it was all the estate of the Dewang chieftain, not so many houses.”
Jiang Hong awkwardly said, “I just feel like I’ve seen it before… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it doesn't matter,” Lu Xiu joined him, both looking at the peaceful village.
Despite the heavy snow, the villagers were already up and about. Living in this remote village during the dead of winter, there wasn’t much to do, so most of their time was spent visiting each other, playing cards, and watching TV.
Many young people, in groups of two or three, were playing in the heavy snow outside, throwing snowballs. When they saw Jiang Hong and Lu Xiu approaching, they shouted “Tashi Delek!” and threw a snowball, which Lu Xiu quickly blocked, getting his arm covered in snow.
“Tashi Delek!” Jiang Hong also shouted back, “Tashi… Tashi Delek…”
Jiang Hong joined them in the snowball fight, initially making snowballs for Lu Xiu. Soon, finding Lu Xiu too gentle, he rolled up his sleeves and joined in, chasing the others around.
Lu Xiu warned, “Don’t overexert yourself, or your headache will come back.” Then he grabbed Jiang Hong and walked away.
Chuchen came out to find them, inviting them back for breakfast. He seemed a bit dazed from last night’s drinking. He tried to grab Lu Xiu's hand several times, but Lu Xiu didn’t allow it, so Chuchen ended up grabbing Jiang Hong’s hand instead. Jiang Hong felt a bit awkward and managed to slip away.
Jiang Hong noticed that in Tibetan customs, young men often walked hand in hand, unlike the Han people who preferred to put arms around each other's shoulders. Though it seemed a bit ambiguously intimate, it felt very affectionate.
Back at Chuchen’s home, breakfast was a big pot of steaming noodles, with everyone sitting around the warm table, eating from small bowls.
Jiang Hong remarked to Lu Xiu, “Those young people like to walk hand in hand, it seems quite intimate.”
Lu Xiu explained, “Tibetans believe gods reside on their shoulders, so they avoid slapping or putting arms around shoulders, and instead hold hands. It’s not just young people; even old men in their seventies and eighties walk hand in hand.”
Oh, so that’s why…
After lunch, as the snow lessened, Lu Xiu bid farewell to Chuchen. Chuchen tried to persuade them to stay, but Lu Xiu mentioned he also needed to return home for the New Year. Jiang Hong even made a video call to his parents to greet Chuchen’s family.
Chuchen, reluctant to part with them, especially missing a drinking buddy like Lu Xiu, personally drove them to Lhasa. Upon leaving, Chuchen’s mother and grandmother came out to see them off, standing by the road until the car left the village.
“Look! Look!” Jiang Hong, sitting in the backseat, found a copy of National Geographic and said, “Shangri-La by Yamdrok Lake. I’ve read this issue before, I knew it.”
Lu Xiu was briefly conversing with Chuchen and, looking in the rearview mirror, said, “Alright, I understand, my mistake.”
Jiang Hong: “…”
Jiang Hong remembered where he had seen the village before, but again began to wonder why he couldn’t remember anything if he had truly lived there in a past life. His expression darkened again. Lu Xiu, who had been observing Jiang Hong’s every move in the rearview mirror, asked, “What’s wrong?”
After Jiang Hong shared his thoughts, Lu Xiu said, “It’s normal not to remember.”
Jiang Hong: “True, otherwise there wouldn’t be such a thing as reincarnation.”
Lu Xiu: “No, it’s because you were a fool in that life. Expecting a fool to remember something important is obviously unrealistic.”
Jiang Hong: “…”
Upon reaching Lhasa city, they said goodbye to Chuchen and drove off.
“Wow,” Jiang Hong exclaimed, “The Potala Palace looks so beautiful after the snow.”
With five days until the Spring Festival, the streets were full of Tibetans. There were very few tourists at this time, and Lhasa was filled with its indigenous people. Young couples holding hands were everywhere, some shopping, others making pilgrimages.
Jiang Hong booked a flight home for the next afternoon, deciding to spend the day exploring Lhasa.
“Let’s visit Barkhor Street and Jokhang Temple,” Lu Xiu suggested, “It’s rare for us to be here.”
“Okay.”
Jiang Hong and Lu Xiu were still wearing the Tibetan robes given to them by Chuchen's family. Blending in with the locals coming for pilgrimage and with Lu Xiu speaking Tibetan, they looked no different from the others.
"I can..." Jiang Hong started.
Lu Xiu: "?"
Standing outside the Jokhang Temple, Jiang Hong thought and finally said, "Can we... hold hands? Uh, I don’t mean anything else, just feel like..."
Lu Xiu didn’t answer verbally but took Jiang Hong’s hand, interlocking their fingers. They walked along the road like others, everything felt so natural.
The moment Jiang Hong held hands with Lu Xiu, it was as if an electric current passed through his heart – a very peculiar feeling. Holding hands in this interlocked fingers manner with Lu Xiu felt completely natural to him, but doing so with other boys would be awkward.
If two guys walked holding hands in their school, they would definitely be perceived as gay, but in the long streets of Octagon Alley, it seemed quite natural; nobody paid any attention to them. In the eyes of Tibetans, neither Lu Xiu nor Jiang Hong were considered handsome. Tibetans admire burly men with beards, so the two of them, with their fair complexions, just looked like young boys on the street.
"How's Yuan Shiyu doing?"
In the sweet tea shop, Jiang Hong saw Lu Xiu texting on WeChat and leaned in to take a look.
"Already deleted," Lu Xiu said. "I told him not to look for me anymore, to go to Xuan Hezhi if he needed anything."
Jiang Hong: "You deleted it just like that? You didn’t even verify it. What if it's a mistake again? And what about the issue with the descendant of the Feng Shui master…"
Lu Xiu firmly interrupted, "I don’t want to verify anymore. It’s an obsession, an inner demon. I must let go."
Alright, you’re right, Jiang Hong thought. But since the day they arrived at Yamdrok Lake, Lu Xiu seemed like a changed person. He never used to smile, and now, although rare, he occasionally shows a slight smile with upturned corners of his mouth.
"Principal Cao asked you to do him a favor."
"What is it?" Jiang Hong asked.
Lu Xiu said, "Chen Zhen requested Cao Bin to ask for your help in applying gold leaf to the Buddha statue in Dazhao Temple."
Jiang Hong: "Why me?"
Lu Xiu: "I belong to the demon clan. Although I am a dragon, I am still considered a demon. You are from the human clan, so that should be the reason. Let's go."
After visiting the Dazhao Temple, they checked into a twin room for the night, retrieved their stored luggage, and Lu Xiu, after a glance at the two beds, took the initiative to move over, urging Jiang Hong to make some space in his bed and squeezing in beside him.
"Do you want to spend the New Year at my place?" asked Jiang Hong. "Does that mean you won't be going back to school?"
Lu Xiu: "Yes, are you inviting me?"
Jiang Hong, seizing the advantage, teased, "Yes, otherwise you, a solitary dragon, would have a boring New Year's. So, I reluctantly invite you."
He thought Lu Xiu would threaten him a bit, but instead, Lu Xiu said: "Then I'll impose on you."
His temperament has really improved... I just don't know if it's temporary or permanent. Is this the arrangement of fate? On the day Jiang Hong left school, he never imagined that this trip to Tibet would once again change everything.
