I truly don't know how to judge Xu Zhiwu; one might call him a petty man, yet after his petty actions, he always manages to do something that makes you feel he is still a good person. For instance, right after the company commander’s call, he immediately and sincerely apologized to us, saying that had it not been for the order, we definitely would have left. And it was true that he was incapable of protecting the Gold-Eyed Silver Pearls. In short, his words were heartfelt and moving, leaving me with no recourse no matter how angry I was.

Laba also kept apologizing profusely to us, but for whatever reason, he absolutely would not allow Old Li and me to leave. There was nothing we could do; we had to swallow our grievances and stayed at Laba’s house that night.

The next morning I woke up very early. Lhasa is lighter later than the inland areas; at seven o’clock, the sky was still a murky grey. The sound of chanting constantly drifted from outside—the morning worshippers offering their prayers. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and decided to wander around the vicinity of the Jokhang Temple.

I sat up quietly, careful not to disturb Old Li. Unexpectedly, the moment I reached for my coat, he woke up. He mumbled, “Technician Luo, where are you going?”

“Just going to take a look around the Jokhang Temple. You sleep. It’s rare for you to sleep in; I’ll come back later to find you,” I whispered, afraid of waking Xu Zhiwu and the others. Hearing this, Old Li turned over, asked no more questions, and went back to sleep.

Laba’s house was just a few steps from the Jokhang Temple square. The moment I pulled open the rolling shutter door, a blast of fierce cold wind hit my face, making me shiver violently. The road was already densely packed with pilgrims, seemingly oblivious to the early morning chill. I turned up my collar, tucking my neck as deeply as possible into the warmth, and shuffled toward the Jokhang Temple like a frail, eighty-year-old man afraid of the cold.

It took barely a minute or two to reach the Jokhang Temple square. Vendors selling Tibetan incense and prayer flags clustered tightly around two large incense burners. As soon as they saw someone approach, they rushed over, asking if I wanted to buy incense, sincerely stating that a bag was only one yuan, and five yuan would suffice for the five large burners around the Jokhang Temple. I had initially considered buying a few bags of herbal Tibetan incense to toss into the burners, but upon seeing the devout people prostrating on the ground, I felt it improper to stand before them offering incense while they were in the full prostration posture. After some thought, I gave up the idea. Instead, I followed the crowd around the two burners to look for the other three.

The sky had not yet fully brightened, and the road was covered in a dark, tidal mass of worshippers, all chanting as they walked. The air was filled with the sound of chanting I could not understand. As I passed a lama who looked somewhat like an ascetic monk, someone gave him money. He received it with a startled expression, then immediately resumed his bowing as before. I also saw a tiny girl, perhaps four or five years old, following an adult, performing the three-step full prostration with practiced ease, not cutting any corners. Some people were even bowing respectfully to the shop fronts along the street, which left me momentarily bewildered, unsure of the reason for this devotion.

Shops in Lhasa usually open quite late, but the small vendors around the Jokhang Temple had already set up their stalls early, some shouting their wares, others loudly reciting scriptures.

Looking at the pious people all around, I suddenly felt a great sense of joy and intimacy. This was vibrant, lively living—wasn't this something I hadn't experienced before?

Wandering aimlessly with the crowd, in less than ten minutes, I had made a complete circuit around the Jokhang Temple. I was back in front of the main incense burners on the front side of the square, where the dense crowd was still prostrating. Another vendor hurried over, asking if I wanted to buy a prayer flag: “Buy one, it’s only ten yuan, and I can help you tie it [to one of the designated poles]. It’s very efficacious.”

I felt rather blank. Even if tying the flag up was truly effective, my mind was completely empty at that moment; I couldn't recall any wish I needed fulfilled. It seemed I had none. So, I shook my head and turned back toward Laba’s house.

Leaving the Jokhang Temple square, just a minute or two from Laba’s house, I unexpectedly ran into a group of Europeans—men, women, and children—all talking quietly amongst themselves. Since Xu Zhiwu had spent a good part of the morning teasing the Germans, although I couldn't tell if they were speaking German, I still glanced at them a few extra times. The sky hadn't fully lit up, so I couldn't make out their faces, but one young man smiled warmly at me when he saw me looking and even greeted me in English: “Hello!” I returned the greeting and thought no more of it, continuing toward Laba’s house.

Back at Laba’s, everyone was still asleep. I crept quietly into the room where Old Li and I had slept. Old Li was already dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. Seeing me enter, he quickly said, “Technician Luo, you’re back? So soon?”

I nodded, sat down beside him on the edge of the bed, and we chatted idly.

A while later, Xu Zhiwu and Laba also woke up. Laba apologized profusely, saying that since there were no women in the house, Tibetan men never cooked, so they regretted that we would have to settle for eating breakfast out somewhere casual.

Of course, we didn’t mind this, so we went along with the host's arrangement and casually found a small eatery to sort out breakfast. If it had simply ended with breakfast, there would have been nothing more to say. But the problem was that we ran into that group of Europeans again on the road. By now, the day was completely bright, and a young man saw me, smiled broadly, and the smile seemed incredibly familiar. I immediately recalled—they were the same people I had encountered near the Jokhang Temple square earlier.

However, after the young man smiled at me, he walked on with the group; perhaps their limited English skills prevented any conversation. I didn't dwell on it either.

It was Xu Zhiwu who couldn't let it go. After breakfast, back at Laba’s, he asked me, “Little Luo, do you know those foreigners we met this morning?”

I replied, “How could I? I just happened to run into them when I was going to the Jokhang Temple, and that young man said ‘hello,’ and I said one back. That’s all.”

Xu Zhiwu laughed self-deprecatingly after hearing this. “It seems I was overthinking things. Ah… at this rate, my nerves are going to break.”

Laba looked at us guiltily. “I’m truly sorry.”

Xu Zhiwu waved his hand. “It has nothing to do with you.” Then, as if remembering something, he asked Laba, “Nijiong said he plans to come to Lhasa in the next day or two. Do you know anything about that?”

Upon hearing Nijiong’s name, Laba hesitated slightly. “He mentioned it to me too… I’m thinking, why not just return the Gold-Eyed Silver Pearls to him? He only needs to refund me half the price. This thing is truly an ominous object; as soon as I got it, I couldn’t sleep or eat in peace, and I didn’t even dare to keep my wife and children in Lhasa. Tell me, tell me, why should I keep it!” By the end, Laba was somewhat agitated.

Xu Zhiwu remained silent, and neither Old Li nor I spoke.

After Laba finished speaking, he looked somewhat reluctant, muttering, “If I really returned it to Nijiong…”

Xu Zhiwu interrupted him bluntly, “You already bought it; there’s no going back on a purchase!”

Laba gave an embarrassed smile and dropped the subject.

…

It was almost evening when Nijiong arrived. We were chatting idly upstairs when he came up unannounced. Still, he stood politely at the slightly ajar doorway and knocked softly, asking, “Laba, may I come in? Am I interrupting?”

We hadn't expected him so soon, and we all turned to look at him in unison. Anyone else would surely have felt awkward with our sudden, collective gaze. But Nijiong acted completely unperturbed, entering with composure, shaking everyone’s hand in greeting, exceedingly polite and possessing the bearing of a true gentleman.

As soon as Nijiong arrived, the topic of conversation immediately shifted to him. We asked if his journey had been difficult, what brought him to Lhasa, and so on. Nijiong answered each question methodically, saying the journey was smooth, and he came to Lhasa mainly because he missed Elder Brother Laba, and also wanted to visit his two good friends, Old Li and Xu Zhiwu. As he said this, he immediately realized he had been impolite by overlooking Old Li next to me, so he quickly introduced himself to Old Li… politely and sincerely.

After this exchange, it was already dark. Nijiong insisted on treating us to an authentic Tibetan meal on Sant Island. “The owner there is a buddy I grew up with; if we go, he’s guaranteed to serve us the best dishes. Wild boar from Shannan, fish from Yadong… those are trivial matters. Please, you absolutely must honor me with your presence.”

With him saying this, we naturally couldn’t refuse. So, Xu Zhiwu drove his weathered SUV, taking us toward Sant Island. Halfway there, Nijiong made a phone call: “Tsethrug… Yes, yes, I’ve arrived in Lhasa and brought a few friends… Yes, yes, prepare your very best things for me… Right. Five of us in total, including myself… Okay.” He finished the brief conversation quickly, speaking without the polite formality he used with us, suggesting a very close friendship.

Lhasa isn’t large; it took less than twenty minutes to drive from the Jokhang Temple to Nijiong’s friend’s Tibetan restaurant on Sant Island. As the car crossed the bridge onto Sant Island, we saw a Tibetan man in a brown greatcoat standing at the end of the bridge in the distance. Nijiong pointed ahead. “That person in the big coat up there is my friend, Tsethrug.”

Xu Zhiwu accelerated and drove toward him. Nijiong stuck his hand out of the car window and waved at Tsethrug. Tsethrug immediately smiled broadly and walked over to meet us.

Tsethrug’s Tibetan restaurant was located a little to the left of the arched bridge on Sant Island. As soon as we got out of the car, Tsethrug warmly ushered us inside. Just as we entered the door, girls dressed in traditional Tibetan robes came forward to present us with khatas. After the ritual, Tsethrug instructed them, “These are honored guests; take them to the Lhasa Hall.”

He then somewhat proudly explained to us that the names of the dining rooms in his restaurant were all named after districts in Lhasa. The Lhasa Hall occupied the prime location in the restaurant and was the most luxurious room.

The Lhasa Hall was on the third floor. Tsethrug led us through corridors adorned with vibrant reds and greens, up a narrow staircase made of red-lacquered wood.

However, just as we stepped onto the third floor, I saw another person. He was standing on a balcony, laughing heartily while talking on the phone.