The Early Spring - Chapter 103

Chapter 103 - Prime of Youth

The last thousand kilometers—two thousand li of road. The Golmud River, the Kunlun River, the Tuotuo River, Nagqu: high mountains, alpine meadows, snow plains, herds of yaks, sheep, and horses, along with wild wolves, stray dogs, and sky burials. Here, the heavens touched the earth, using clouds as a grand curtain—a living human realm rendered like a splash-ink painting. On Shang Zhitao’s bucket list of things to do before turning thirty, one item was to visit Tibet.

She had achieved it now, together with Luan Nian.

From this moment on, Tibet was no longer mere words and images in a book, but a reality she had truly witnessed and felt with her own senses.

As the altitude climbed gradually, Shang Zhitao still felt unwell, but it was manageable. Luan Nian took care of her the entire way and barely lost his temper once, though his tongue remained as sharp as ever. For instance, when Shang Zhitao said, "Can we bring some butter tea back with us?"

Luan Nian retorted, "Don't you know how to shop online?"

Incidents like this were too numerous to list.

Bickering and squabbling all along the way, the two of them finally arrived in Lhasa.

The place names she had previously seen only in books and on the internet finally unfolded before her eyes: Barkhor Street, the Potala Palace, sweet milk tea, yak meat, pilgrims, sun-darkened faces with a reddish hue, the eyes of Tibetan girls as clear and pure as young beasts, and the snow-white teeth revealed whenever the young men smiled. The people here spoke of their faith with supreme devotion; with their spirits fulfilled, their hearts were abundantly rich.

They stayed at an inn on Barkhor Street. Below the inn was a bookstore, and right beside it was a folk music bar. The Tibetan dogs here were all exceptionally impressive. Luke rested his front paws on a low windowsill, eager to dash out and play with his fellow canine companions.

"Are you stupid?" Luan Nian finally could not help scolding him. "You fucking don't even know how to fight, yet you want to play with Tibetan Mastiffs? They'll bite you to death in one gulp."

Luke cocked his head and processed this for a long moment before letting out two barks: "You're talking nonsense! They're all my friends!" Looking every bit like a foolish son sassing his parents.

The two found a milk tea shop to enjoy some tea, securing a spot on the flat rooftop. Looking down, half of Lhasa opened up below them. Shang Zhitao wore a wide-brimmed hat while Luan Nian wore a baseball cap, yet despite this protection, they could still sense the intense ultraviolet rays.

Shang Zhitao’s skin was slightly sunburned. Feeling that she had grown unattractive, Luan Nian remarked, "It's not as if beauty was ever your strong suit anyway, right?"

"Then what is my strong suit?" Shang Zhitao countered, unconvinced.

"Great in bed?" Luan Nian swept his eyes over her. Coming to Tibet was wonderful in every way—the scenery was stunning, the people were lovely—only the nights were miserable. Holding a woman like her in his arms while being unable to do anything for fear of aggravating her altitude sickness was pure torture.

Shang Zhitao’s face instantly flushed bright red. Luan Nian’s gaze rested on her, burning through her clothes right down to her skin.

"Luan Nian."

"?"

"Can you stop looking at me? Look over there." Shang Zhitao pointed down below, where someone was taking photos dressed in Tibetan attire. "Does it look good?"

Luan Nian curled his lip dismissively.

Shang Zhitao wanted to take photos, and she wanted Luan Nian to take them with her. Resting her chin on her hands, she watched for a long while before asking him quietly, "Luan Nian, how many times have you been to Lhasa?"

"The third time."

"You've been to Lhasa three times and never taken photos like that? Then what did you come here for?"

"..." Luan Nian was caught off guard by Shang Zhitao’s question. He had never imagined that one day he would be completely stumped by such a brainless query.

"Do I have to take those kind of photos just because I came to Lhasa?" he asked back.

"Of course! What else?"

Luan Nian waved his hand dismissively. "Suit yourself. I'm not taking any."

"Then won't you even accompany me?"

"I can accompany you."

"Then let's go right now!"

Shang Zhitao dragged Luan Nian out the door and located a photography studio. As she went inside to pick out outfits, Luan Nian waited outside with Luke.

While browsing through the costumes, Shang Zhitao asked the owner, "Do you have male models? The kind who can pose with me for a photoshoot."

"We do. Just pay an extra fee. They are all local Tibetan guys, very handsome."

"I want a super handsome one!"

"Posing with my dog! A couples shoot!"

Shang Zhitao raised her voice intentionally, casting her gaze outside. Sure enough, Luan Nian walked right in. Shooting Shang Zhitao a sharp glare, he pinched a few garments between his index and middle fingers, his expression full of disdain. The shop owner glanced at Shang Zhitao, who gave her a subtle wink.

"Which ones did you choose?" Luan Nian asked her.

Shang Zhitao showed him the clothes draped over her arm: "This one, this one, and this one."

Luan Nian swept a quick glance over them, then pulled out several sets of clothing himself.

"Luke is shooting too? Didn't you say it was super tacky? Didn't you say you'd never take touristy photos like this?" Shang Zhitao taunted him with relentless persistence.

Luan Nian glared at her with icy hostility, grabbed the clothes, and headed into the fitting room. Shang Zhitao followed close behind him, standing right outside the door, and teased, "You really don't have to force yourself, you know! The boss said the models are really handsome, and my photos will turn out great either way!"

"Besides, I don't think the two of us will look all that matching in photos anyway!"

"I think I'd still be better off shooting with a model."

Just as Shang Zhitao was standing at the door deliberately provoking him, the fitting room door swung open, revealing Luan Nian clad in traditional Tibetan robes. Shang Zhitao screamed holy crap in her head as her heart gave a sudden, explosive flutter. Heavens above were truly biased, giving him a physique and visage that looked breathtaking in literally anything.

The shop owner walked over and held up a thumb in admiration. "I've never seen such a handsome Tibetan young man."

Luan Nian was completely indifferent to the praise, casting a disdainful glance down at Shang Zhitao. "Not putting on makeup?"

She was definitely putting it on!

Shang Zhitao had makeup applied to transform into a traditional Tibetan girl: rosy cheeks, two thick braided pigtails, and elaborate Tibetan ornaments adorned her head. Tibetan silver bangles encircled her wrists. Smiling, she asked Luan Nian, "How do I look?" Her mouthful of bright white teeth made her complexion seem even fairer, making her genuinely look like a local Tibetan girl—quaint and rustic.

Luan Nian raised an eyebrow, lifting one of her thick braids to weigh it in his hand. It was quite heavy. He let it go.

When Shang Zhitao was taking her solo photos, Luan Nian stood off to the side watching. He didn't quite understand why women possessed such immense enthusiasm for photography. Shang Zhitao allowed the photographer to maneuver her into various poses, bowing low one moment and kneeling in prayer the next, looking extraordinarily hilarious.

Standing to the side, he said to Luke, "See that? Your mom has gone crazy." He comfortably styled himself as Luke's father and referred to Shang Zhitao as Luke's mother, completely oblivious to how intimate the titles "mom" and "dad" were.

When the makeup artist tried to pat powder onto his face, Luan Nian knit his brows in clear displeasure. Shang Zhitao spoke up before he could voice his protest: "Wow! With that powder applied, you look even more like a tough guy!"

When it came time for the joint photos, he required no direction from the photographer at all; simply standing there casually yielded picture-perfect shots. The photographer's job was unusually easy today, putting him in a fantastic mood. He called out to them: "Husband, lean a little closer to your wife."

"Wife, give us a smile."

"Husband and wife, pray together now..."

"Let the doggy sit down and smile with you both."

Habitual professional phrasing rolled off his tongue, calling them "husband" and "wife" with every sentence. Shang Zhitao felt awkward and finally waved her hands to clarify when the photographer asked the husband to embrace the wife: "We aren't husband and wife..." fearing Luan Nian would reject it too bluntly and make everyone lose face.

"We aren't..."

Before the word "aren't" fully left her lips, she was swept up into the air. Surprised, she looked up at Luan Nian; meeting her flustered gaze, his eyes held no trace of impatience, but were instead filled with a gentle warmth. The photographer, a master at capturing candid moments, clicked the shutter rapidly several times, then reminded Shang Zhitao: "Don't be stiff, soften up a bit."

Feeling unnatural and unsure of what "soften up a bit" meant, Shang Zhitao listened as Luan Nian teased her in a low voice: "Aren't you usually plenty soft?"

Having said this, he planted a soft kiss on the corner of her lips and gently set her back down.

She had altitude sickness after all—best handle with care!

Was this perhaps what being in love felt like?

Shang Zhitao secretly sent a message to Sun Yu: "I feel like I'm in my first love. Every time he looks at me, my heart flutters."

"I've been looking at him for so many years, yet I haven't grown tired of it. I've slept with him for so many years, yet I haven't grown tired of that either. Why is that?"

"And another thing, why is he being so gentle? So gentle that he doesn't even seem like himself?"

Shang Zhitao felt as if she had reverted back to her teenage years, confiding her deep romantic feelings to her best friend. Reading message after message from her, Sun Yu finally could not help replying: "Taotao, you really are in love."

Shang Zhitao put away her phone and ran to the computer. Feeling that every single photo turned out beautifully, she stood there picking through them for several minutes. Unable to stand her wasting time like this, Luan Nian asked the shop owner, "How much extra to take all the photos?"

"No extra charge is necessary, but could we select one photo to hang inside our shop?" Having run a photography studio in Lhasa for so many years, the shop owner rarely captured such a wonderful image. The gaze between the two held an indescribably subtle intimacy: the man was remarkably handsome, while the girl possessed an understated, captivating charm. They were such a perfect match.

"Then you ought to pay me money." Luan Nian cast a glance at the shop owner. You certainly know how to run a business, making such a shrewd calculation. But a few seconds later, he changed his mind: "I'll allow you to pick one, but it must be hung right in the center of the shop. Print it on top-grade photo paper, and I'll inspect it after it's framed." He spoke with strict precision, refusing to yield an inch. Yet the shop owner was already overjoyed—a single photo was more than enough. She happily gifted all the raw digital files to Shang Zhitao, telling her: "Rest assured, young lady, with a photo this good, the fine retouching will definitely turn out incredible. Just wait to receive the prints. You can even frame it and put it up at home as a wedding photo when you get back. Local Tibetans all use this style for their wedding pictures."

Unsure of how to handle the owner's overwhelming enthusiasm, Shang Zhitao could only nod and murmur in agreement from the side. Packing the digital files into her bag, she walked outside with Luan Nian. Reaching the doorway, Luan Nian turned back to ask the owner: "Hanging it right there?"

Pointing his finger at the most prominent spot in the shop, the owner nodded: "Yes, it can hang there for many years. It'll be hard to ever capture a better photo than this one."

Stepping out of the photography studio, they crossed the street and both turned back to take a look. From that day on, on the bustling Barkhor Street filled with passing crowds, any pedestrian who paused for a moment would be able to see the grand, oversized photograph hanging inside the studio.

It was a memento of love between a man and a woman.

In the prime of their youth, deeply in love.

After staying in Lhasa for two days, they drove toward Nyingchi. Luan Nian had booked a hotel in Nyingchi, saying that it was perfect for someone like Shang Zhitao who suffered from altitude sickness: because there was no need to do anything at all—lying in bed and pulling open the curtains gave a direct view of snow-capped mountains, lakes, and forests. They wanted to lie back comfortably in the hotel for two days before embarking on their journey home.

Shang Zhitao listened to Luan Nian.

He had not lost his temper once during the trip, nor had he left her behind alone in Lhasa. He had truly become the person she trusted most in her heart.

Inside the hotel in Nyingchi, while Shang Zhitao sat on the daybed basking in the sun, Auntie Zhai called her to ask about her trip harvest. She answered one by one: "It's wonderful. The scenery is magnificent, the food is delicious, the altitude sickness isn't too severe, and Luke is having a blast playing around."

"Then who on earth did you go with? A boyfriend?" Shang Zhitao glanced at Luan Nian, who was lounging on the sofa opposite her. The sunlight of Nyingchi illuminated half of his face, making him look remarkably tranquil, even peaceful.

After a moment's thought, she said, "Yes, my boyfriend."

Auntie Zhai's sharp exclamation nearly shattered her eardrums: "You're in a relationship? Since when? What does your boyfriend do? Is his family background good? Is he healthy? How is his character?"

Faced with such a barrage of questions, Shang Zhitao was clearly at a loss, not knowing where to begin. Luan Nian stood up from the sofa, walked over to her side, took the phone, and offered a polite, composed greeting: "Hello, Auntie. I am Luan Nian."

He answered all of Auntie Zhai's questions regarding his age, height, and income. When he brought up his income, he overheard Auntie Zhai quietly asking Uncle Shang: "Is it bad if it's too high? What if the source is sketchy..."

So after a moment's consideration, he stated: "Under two million a year." Understating his earnings by quite a large margin.

Through this round of give-and-take, he laid out his full family background completely open and honest. Shang Zhitao pursed her lips, gazing at the sparkling light on the lake surface outside, feeling a warmth in her eyes as if tears might fall at any second.

In the words of Sun Yu: After waiting through the dark clouds, the bright moon finally reveals itself.

When night fell, she became intoxicated by the moonlight and snuggled into Luan Nian's arms. Feeling that the scenery was so lovely, she felt they ought to do something. Luan Nian pinned her hands firmly beside her head, locking her legs with his own, and threatened her fiercely: "You behave yourself! Otherwise, I'll throw you outside to feed the wolves!"

"I want to."

"Get your breathing sorted out before you talk!" Luan Nian pinched her cheek. "Don't you touch me. If something bad happens to you, I'll have to fucking gather your corpse."

"I'm feeling fine today." Shang Zhitao entwined herself around him again, only to be locked tight by Luan Nian: "Get lost!"

He told her to get lost, yet he pressed hard against her, wishing he could crush her into his very being. Gritting his teeth behind her ear, he muttered, "I really want to work you to death!"

Giving her a slight push, he went to sleep on the sofa.

The moment he left, Shang Zhitao felt empty again. So she teased him: "I can help you out."

"No need."

"Then let's chat for a bit, okay?"

"Mm."

"Let's start from the creation of the world..." The moment Shang Zhitao finished her sentence, she heard Luan Nian burst into a short chuckle. "Don't laugh," Shang Zhitao protested. "What I meant to say was, let's start from the very first time I saw you..."

That was the summer of 2010. She was sitting in the lobby on the first floor of Lingmei when Luan Nian pushed open the back door of that coffee shop and walked out, looking like an immensely stylish gentleman. Back then, Shang Zhitao had thought to herself: This must be the handsomest person I'll ever see in my lifetime.

She babbled on continuously, and Luan Nian listened to her the entire time. Later, feeling a bit sleepy but still unwilling to give up, she asked Luan Nian: "What about you? What did you think of me the very first time you saw me?"

Luan Nian pondered for a long time before offering four words: "Like a fool."

A big fool.

The trip to Tibet came to an end. With such a journey under her belt, none of the remaining days of that year felt hard to endure. Shang Zhitao printed out a few of their joint photos and tucked them into her books, feeling wonderful whenever she occasionally flipped through them.

In short, another year passed just like that.

It was another year where Shang Zhitao returned to Harbin while Luan Nian went to the United States, meaning two or three months would pass before they saw each other again.

That year, fireworks were banned in Harbin, leaving only a sparse few pops of firecrackers. Luke sat by the window in utter wonder: Why were there no vibrant colors in the sky? Shang Zhitao comforted him: "The era of setting off fireworks has passed, but maybe in a few years it'll be allowed again. Fortunately, you have your favorite snow here."

Luke let out a bark. Shang Zhitao understood what he meant—but his favorite Luke wasn't here.

Across the ocean, Luan Nian seemed to hear Luke's bark, sending Shang Zhitao an unprecedented New Year's greeting: "Happy New Year. Want to see the aurora together next year?"

Shang Zhitao stared at it for a long time, bursting into quiet giggles.

Happy New Year. As long as it's with you, I'll go to the ends of the earth.

The year 2015 came to a close, and they would miss it forever.