This scene is desolate, with a kind of vastness and desolation unique to the plateau. On the grassland under the sunset, there is an old woman who is blind.
If you don’t see this scene with your own eyes, many people who have never been to Tibetan areas may not be able to imagine it. In the hearts of many people, going to Tibet is to experience the bluest blue sky and the purest air in the world. There is life here.
The truth and meaning, they feel that they can get a kind of detachment and spiritual cleansing here.
But no one would have thought that on the ancient plateau, a blind woman would repeat mechanical movements in order to survive.
Jia Luorong stood quietly on the top of the hill, staring at the old woman covered with a layer of sunset light. She didn't move too much, but her eyes, as clear and pure as crystal, were shrouded in a layer of water vapor.
The water vapor condensed into tears, rolling down drop by drop on her fair face.
Everyone expresses emotions in different ways. For a girl who cannot speak, crying, crying, and crying again is the only thing she can do.
Mustache stood behind her, looking at everything in front of her. Jialuorong stared silently for a long time before turning around. She couldn't speak, so she used gestures to express what she wanted to say to Mustache.
"That's my mother, she works very hard..."
Jia Luorong's father died young. She seemed to have gathered God's gifts and punishments from birth. She was as beautiful as a snow lotus, but was frail and sick. She was raised by her blind mother. In her impression, her mother was
Without a day of leisure, she had to work non-stop in order to barely ensure that Jialuorong had enough to eat, so that she would not be unable to take medicine due to embarrassment.
Jialuorong was her hope, her only goal and sustenance in her difficult life. Without this sickly daughter, she might have been overwhelmed by life and collapsed.
I don't know if Jialuorong's childhood is slightly similar to that of Xiaozhu. Xiaozhu's mood was suddenly filled with a kind of sourness that made people's eyes ache. He thought of his father who died young and thought of
Mother, and also thought of Wei Tian's mother. He knew, he knew better than anyone else, that when a woman loses the man she can rely on, the child is no different from life to her.
He suddenly wanted to give up, give up this trip to Tibet, give up searching for the origin of the Six Fingers, give up doomsday prophecies, holy objects... He didn't understand art, but he felt that the pasture under the sunset was a painting.
Picture scroll, if Jia Luorong is beside the blind woman, this picture will be complete.
"Go back." Mustache thought for a long time and said slowly: "Go back to your mother."
Jia Luorong bit his lip gently. This very subtle movement made Mustache's heart feel like it was suddenly stabbed. This was Gesang Meiduo's habitual movement. He was in a trance again, and he couldn't distinguish what he was seeing.
who is the woman.
Jia Luorong bit her lip lightly, shook her head, and gestured to her mustache: "I will follow you and never leave you."
The light of the setting sun has almost completely disappeared, and the sound of ringing bells hanging on the necks of yaks can be heard faintly in the distant pasture. The blind old woman carries things and walks away tiredly. Jialuorong can't help but close his eyes.
, she seemed to not want to look at anything anymore, turned around and ran towards the original road.
They walked all night on the road from here to the outside of the mountain. When they passed the cave they had stayed in before, Mustache stood for a while. This ordinary cave was the end of life and the beginning of life.
. He shook his head slightly, and finally he was completely pulled out of the quagmire of thinking. Kelsang Meiduo was gone, and a girl named Jialuorong continued walking on the road after that.
When Mustache escaped from this quagmire of thoughts and emotions, his spirit immediately recovered, but this does not mean that he forgot those lost things, but that he buried them in his heart. As a mature man, he understands
The truth is that a person can recall the past, but he cannot dwell on it. For many people, the past is a shadow and a fetter that blocks them. The only one who can get rid of it is themselves.
Mustache's eyes were filled with that indifference and calmness again, and he took Jialuorong closer to the place where the car had been hidden. The wind after September was already quite strong, especially on the slightly flat land beside the mountain.
.But when Mustache gradually approached the car, he immediately stopped and narrowed his eyes.
At this moment, what he was facing was the rear window of the car. Through the dusty glass, he saw a person sitting quietly in the driver's seat. All he saw was his back, or in other words, just the back of his head. It was very strange.
For a brief moment, Mustache couldn't tell whether this was a living person sitting in the car or a corpse that had been forced in. But soon, he saw another puff of smoke coming from the rolled-down window.
It wafted out, the smell of tobacco.
Although the howling wind can cover up some surrounding sounds and traces, it can also bring out details that are usually not noticed. Mustache's eyes did not move, but he tried hard to search for nearby abnormalities. This ability of his is still
Very strong, there may be no one else nearby, only the person sitting in his car, smoking leisurely.
Who could he be?
Mustache pinched his weapon, but then let go. The person sitting in the car was already blatantly brazen. He should not have any obvious hostility, otherwise Mustache would be greeted by another attack and killing.
At this time, the car door opened, and the person sitting in the car lifted his legs and got out of the car. He was holding the door with one hand and holding a thick cigarette in the other hand. This was a Tibetan, in his thirties, and a young man.
Beard must be about the same age. Although the light emitted by his eyes has been deliberately concealed, it still looks like the eyes of a goshawk flying over the plateau.
"My name is Sangjie, and I think we should talk." The Tibetan spoke Chinese very fluently. He stood downwind, held the cigarette in his mouth, and then took out a small bag: "First of all, permission
I would like to express a little respect and sincerity to my friend from afar, and give you a small gift. I hope you will like it."
The Tibetan named Sangjie raised his hand and threw the bag over. The howling wind would affect the parabola, but Sangjie controlled his power very well. The bag fell in front of Mustache and rolled forward again. He tied the bag
The rope around the mouth had been loosened, and a clean human head rolled out of the bag.
Mustache's eyes narrowed into slits. Jialuorong's body moved and stood behind Mustache. From a certain point of view, she was the continuation of Gesang Meiduo's life. For these scary things, her
There was still quite a bit of memory left in her mind, but the rolling head still affected her.
This human head was the leader of the group of pilgrims who attacked Mustache before. This pilgrim's skills were quite good, but it was useless. He had his head cut off, and there were several others that had also been cut off in the bag.
Ears, not a single one of those pilgrims escaped.
Mustache didn't say anything. He picked up the bag with an alloy pipe and threw it to the Tibetan who was standing by the car. This change happened so suddenly that it surprised Mustache. What was the origin of Sangjie? He just stood there casually.
He was holding a cigarette in his mouth, but it made people feel like he was an eagle that had temporarily put away its sharp claws.
"Silent guest, you should be able to tell that I have no ill intentions and I have always been waiting for you." Sang Jie held a cigarette in his mouth and smiled: "Believe me, what I say will make you very interested."
Mustache had to pay attention to this man. He could touch the place where he hid his car and kill several fleeing pilgrims. This showed that he was confident enough to make Mustache sit down and talk.
Facing the wind above his head, Mustache slowly walked towards the car. Sang Jie smiled happily, got into the car, and then opened the door on the other side. Mustache asked Jia Luorong to sit in the back, and he sat next to Sang Jie
.After walking for a long time, the soft saddle almost makes you melt.
It was only then that Xiaozhu discovered that Sang Jie's hair was very long, covering his neck. From the gaps between the hair strands, you could see that he had a tattoo on his neck. The pattern of the tattoo was a very strange thing, like
A very complex symbol, but also like an ancient and abstract ancient tribal totem.
"Let's be honest, I don't want to beat around the bush, I don't like this, and I guess you don't like this either." Sang Jie took a puff of the cigarette. This kind of cigarette is rolled with tobacco. It is very strong and can kill people in one puff.
His throat was choked with blood. He threw the cigarette butt out of the car window, held on to the steering wheel, and said: "You need my help, we can be a cooperative relationship."
Mustache still said nothing, but the look he looked at Sang Jie said everything: Who are you?
Sang Jie turned around and looked at Mustache, and his eyes moved slowly, and finally fell on Mustache's left hand. This movement made Mustache feel very uncomfortable, as if a person's biggest secret had been discovered by someone else.
, there was a feeling of being naked in front of him.
"You should understand that you are different from ordinary people. What I call cooperation is actually one-sided. I can provide you with something you need."
Mustache's mood began to fluctuate. If there was anything about him that was different from ordinary people, it was undoubtedly the six fingers that had been cut off when he was a child. This was definitely a secret, and few people knew about it.
"I don't need to, and I don't want to carry anyone. Get out of the car." Xiaozhu would never fall into a passive position when talking or fighting. He pointed at the car door and asked Sangjie to get out.
"Looking at you reminds me of a person from a long time ago. Of course, he has been forgotten by most people." Sang Jie smiled and showed some white teeth: "His name is Chanado."