translated_Chapter 115

115: Extra 4

Jing Yueming reached out to catch it, wishing he could open it right now.

Lang Jie saw through his little thoughts: “You should be able to look at it, right? I don’t think it’s important, because it wasn’t sealed.”

Jing Yueming still wanted to take a peek, so he asked Lang Jie, “Can you tell me about his time here back then?”

Lang Jie found a comfortable position: “Of course, he’s my benefactor. I’ve always wanted to help him with something. You’re the only person I’ve met who knows him. I want to chat with you.”

Lang Jie’s eyes were like the ice that never melts on a snow mountain, carrying a pureness. Did Qiu Ci ever look at such eyes and praise them?

“When Qiu Ci came, his purpose was very clear. He was going to Jokhang Temple to pray for blessings, and he was praying for someone else. He valued it very much…” Lang Jie carefully recalled the time, and finally asked hesitantly, “Mr. Jing, I’m also curious about another thing. Is Qiu Ci’s lover alive?”

Jing Yueming was a little puzzled: “Alive.”

“Qiu Ci prostrated himself in Lhasa city for him, walking the great circle, which took us almost a month. Then, he chanted scriptures in Jokhang Temple… He said he wanted that person to be well for the rest of their life. How is that person?”

“Very good, very good. That person is doing very well, and the people around him are doing very well too.” Jing Yueming had won numerous awards in various fashion competitions, Su Yuyang was married, Tsukimi Rin was becoming a small name in the industry, and the student, Sen, who he sponsored, was becoming an excellent violinist.

“That’s great. On your trip, are you planning to hike to Lhasa city like he did?”

“Yes,” Jing Yueming said firmly.

“Wait for me to get something else.” Lang Jie got up and went back to his bedroom, returning shortly with a photo album: “We took a lot of photos on that trip.”

The two turned on the lamp to admire the photos, each one with the date written on it.

“When he first came, he was very pale, and he was mixed-race. His eyes were green, like the mountains in spring, although our mountains aren’t that green here…”

When Qiu Ci first arrived in Tibet, his eyes were smiling as he met this friendly Tibetan lad.

Lang Jie became his guide, and the two drove horses to hike to Lhasa.

“I didn’t ask him what he wanted until we were almost in the city. We talked for a long time. He wanted me to give him a Tibetan name, our names carry blessings. He wanted longevity, so I named him Tsering, um…”

“Did he want his lover to call him that name?” Jing Yueming turned to the next page of the photo album.

“Probably.”

Qiu Ci was very happy on this trip, with a smile in every photo.

Because they were sorted by time, the further you went, the more you could see Qiu Ci getting darker.

Realizing this change, Jing Yueming was even happier.

The distant Qiu Ci was gradually becoming vivid.

“Here, we arrived in Lhasa city. It was also from here that we prostrated ourselves. The great circle of Lhasa city is five kilometers. This ritual is divided into large, medium, and small, and he wanted the great circle.”

Finally, Qiu Ci’s forehead was bruised, but his gaze was still pious.

A materialist now had religious beliefs.

Apart from the gods, no one could fulfill his wish.

“You can’t take pictures after entering Jokhang Temple.” This photo album also came to an end.

“Yeah.” Jing Yueming stroked the last photo, Qiu Ci wearing a windbreaker and covered in dust, with his hands clasped in prayer under the colorful prayer flags.

From planning to completion, Qiu Ci spent a year.

“It’s getting late, we’ll set off for Lhasa city tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Jing Yueming wanted to see every mountain that Qiu Ci had been to, as if there was still a chance to meet him by chance.

So dry, so thirsty.

Jing Yueming was simply being tortured to death on the road.

Lang Jie took a water bottle from the donkey cart and handed it to him: “The climate here is very different from where you come from, you should adapt a little first.”

“Cough… It’s okay.” Jing Yueming gulped down a few mouthfuls of water. He was the one who insisted on leaving early.

Lang Jie patiently stayed with him for more than an hour.

“Let’s walk a little further, I know the inn ahead.”

Jing Yueming’s eyes lit up: “Really?”

He had a place to stay tonight.

“Back then, we walked this section of the road for more than two days. Qiu Ci was too weak. We camped on the road in the middle.” Lang Jie had long been familiar with the details of that year.

It took seven or eight days to reach Lhasa city, and it was already afternoon when they arrived. They planned to rest for one night before going in.

Jing Yueming originally wanted to walk a circle as well, but Zhang Kaizhe had already finished his trip, and the two of them had work to do in the next phase. The studio had taken on a costume task for a movie.

“Half a month, including the journey, how long can you still play here?”

“Three days, maybe.”

“Then tomorrow we’ll go to Jokhang Temple, the day after tomorrow we’ll go mountain climbing, the prayer flags there are very beautiful, and you can leave one day to pack your things.”

“Okay, I’ll come back to play when I have time in the future,” Jing Yueming promised.

“Okay.” Lang Jie also hoped he would come to play, Qiu Ci’s friends were all very nice.

Even though he hadn’t arrived at Jokhang Temple yet, Jing Yueming had a dream that night.

He dreamed that Qiu Ci was praying piously in front of the Jowo Shakyamuni statue.

Wishing his lover, Jing Yueming, peace, health, and success in everything.

Coincidentally, the main hall of Jokhang Temple does have a Jowo Shakyamuni twelve-year-old statue.

“Buddhists believe that seeing the statue is like seeing the Buddha,” Lang Jie explained to him.

The Qiu Ci from yesterday’s dream was vivid in his mind.

In fact, Qiu Ci was already a bit old when he came here two years ago. Even if the photos weren’t clear, you could still feel the vicissitudes in his eyes.

Jing Yueming only remembered what he looked like in his twenties. He couldn’t imagine what the last Qiu Ci was like.

He was also in his twenties in the dream.

‘Qiu Ci, Qiu Ci, I miss you a little.’

Surrounded by the solemn religious atmosphere, Jing Yueming thought of many, many things. Others bring the future to pray for blessings.

Jing Yueming brought the past.

For a moment, he suddenly felt so bored, so bored.

He would never find another Qiu Ci in his lifetime.

Now, even the substitute is gone.

If the headphones are lost, you can buy the exact same ones.

People can’t, even if Ai La comes back, she can’t replace Qiu Ci.

Souls cannot be replicated.

Buddhism speaks of reincarnation.

But countless reincarnations cannot bring back the Qiu Ci who sent him maple leaves many years ago.

“Why are you crying?” Lang Jie asked curiously.

“I… I miss Qiu Ci,” Jing Yueming’s tears couldn’t hold back at this moment.

Lang Jie accompanied him for a walk in Lhasa city.

“You know what? Death is just the demise of the physical body. The soul, according to its karma from its previous life, reincarnates into the six realms. A good person like Qiu Ci will definitely have a better afterlife.”

“Really?” Just an afterlife?

That glass of dark beer on the night of Su Yuyang’s wedding, even today, the sour and bitter taste is still on the tip of his tongue, and his heart aches from the sourness.

“Let’s rest for a day tomorrow, your condition isn’t good.”

“Okay.” Jing Yueming really needed to rest.

Why did you have to come to Lhasa?

He was asking Qiu Ci, but also Jing Yueming was asking himself.