Meiduo’s enthusiasm was entirely within Li Yundong’s expectations, but her boldness was something he had never anticipated. Watching the girl approach him step by step, he found his own feet instinctively backing away.
Li Yundong stammered out, “Why are you here bathing too? This, this…”
Meiduo looked at Li Yundong with a gaze both shy and audacious. Her voice trembled slightly. “Han-jia brother, am I not beautiful?”
Li Yundong saw Meiduo draped in moonlight, as if clad in a silver gossamer veil. Though she was completely naked, it only amplified a sacred beauty; even a blind man, he thought, would likely open his eyes at this moment to witness such purity and grace in the mortal world.
Li Yundong only glanced once before a heat rose through his body. He dared not look again, turning instantly to flee.
But Meiduo seized his hand. The strength in her grip, the certainty in her voice, far exceeded Li Yundong’s expectations. “Han-jia brother, you like me too, don’t you?”
Cornered by Meiduo, Li Yundong suddenly found a measure of composure. He took a deep breath and said in a measured tone, “Meiduo, any man would like a girl like you.”
Meiduo broke into a bright smile, her ears flushing red. “Then why run when you see me?”
Li Yundong sighed. He turned back, fixing his gaze directly into Meiduo’s eyes, deliberately avoiding even a flicker toward her fair, creamy chest. “Because in my heart,” he said, “there is already a girl whom I deeply love.”
Meiduo shuddered violently. Her eyes filled with alarm as she looked at him. “Are you married?”
Li Yundong shook his head. “No, I am not married, but I already have a girlfriend.”
Meiduo stared at him and shook her head vehemently. “That’s not true! If you already have a girlfriend, why did you look at me like that before?”
Li Yundong sighed again. “When I first saw you, I only felt that your eyes were so pure, just like the girl I deeply love. So, instinctively, I mistook you for her.”
Tears welled in Meiduo’s eyes, yet she insisted stubbornly, “You’re lying to me. You just made someone up, didn’t you?”
Li Yundong let out a soft sigh. He led Meiduo back to the riverbank, draped the clothes she had left there over her shoulders, quickly dressed himself while turning his back to her, and then guided her to sit beside him on the bank before beginning to recount his story with Su Chan.
Li Yundong possessed a fine eloquence, weaving the tale smoothly. He narrated every detail, from their meeting, to getting to know each other, to their bond, and finally, their love. At the joyful and humorous parts, he managed to coax tears right out of Meiduo, making her laugh heartily, momentarily forgetting the sorrow of his rejection. When he spoke of the misunderstandings that had almost torn them apart, Meiduo could not help but break down in fresh tears.
Finally, when Li Yundong told of how he had brought down the heavenly lightning to slay He Shao in the name of upholding justice, and how Su Chan was subsequently taken away by her master because of his actions, Meiduo wept torrentially over their separation, asking through a blurry haze of tears, “What happened next?”
“After that…” Li Yundong let out a long sigh, speaking leisurely, “After that, I understood a crucial lesson.”
Meiduo wiped her tears away. “What lesson?”
Li Yundong sighed. “A man must be strong! If a man is not strong, he can’t even protect himself, let alone the woman he deeply loves!”
“So, you came here to cultivate?” Meiduo asked.
Li Yundong nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
Meiduo’s face softened with emotion. “No wonder you have endured such hardships on your journey; it was all for the girl you hold in your heart.”
Li Yundong smiled at Meiduo. “The song you sang earlier was truly beautiful. I once asked the Buddha: Why does it snow only on the nights I don’t notice? The Buddha replied: People often miss true beauty in moments of inattention. What profound lyrics! But some true beauties are destined not to belong to me. If one is too greedy, perhaps they might even lose what they already hold in their hands. Don’t you think so?”
Meiduo gazed steadily at Li Yundong. Though rejected, her admiration and deep affection for this young man had only intensified. She respected his courage and boldness in facing danger to eradicate evil. She admired his relentless dedication and perseverance in undertaking such a grueling path of cultivation for the girl he loved.
Meiduo’s eyes were filled with infatuation. She looked at Li Yundong’s thick eyebrows and straight nose. The face that she once thought merely rugged due to his beard now appeared as a symbol of maturity, steadiness, decisiveness, and unyielding fortitude.
Responding to Li Yundong’s question, Meiduo murmured dreamily, “Han-jia brother, I understand now. I will not stand in the way of your path of cultivation. Can, can I sing one more song for you?”
Li Yundong smiled gently. “Yes, please. Your singing is truly like a sound from the heavens; it is too beautiful to resist.”
Meiduo thought to herself: No matter how beautiful, it cannot capture your heart. She composed herself, parted her crimson lips slightly, and began to sing:
“Whether you see me or not, I am there, neither happy nor sad.”
“Whether you think of me or not, love is there, neither coming nor going.”
“Whether you love me or not, affection is there, neither increasing nor decreasing.”
“Whether you follow me or not, my hand is in yours, never letting go.”
“Come into my embrace, or let me reside within your heart.”
“In silent love, in quiet joy…”
Meiduo’s song was mournful and lingering, deeply affecting. Li Yundong became utterly captivated by the melody. When she finished, she stared at him with an absorbed look. Seeing his gaze fixed distantly, his expression heavy with memory, a bitter ache rose in her chest, and tears instantly brimmed in her eyes.
Wiping her tears, Meiduo choked back a sob and turned, running toward her tent, abandoning the clothes lying on the ground.
Li Yundong remained seated by the river in a daze. After a long while, he finally came back to himself and let out a profound sigh.
The next morning at dawn, Li Yundong gathered all his belongings and approached Qiangbagla to bid farewell.
“What? You’re leaving?” Qiangbagla exclaimed in shock.
Li Yundong nodded, his expression firm. “Yes. I have disturbed your hospitality for several days. I am a cultivator; it is better for me to travel alone.”
Qiangbagla opened his mouth, wanting to persuade him to stay, but unsure what to say. After a long pause, he sighed deeply. “Han-jia little brother, you won’t even give me a chance to offer you a proper feast when I return, to repay your kindness in saving my life.”
Li Yundong smiled. “Qiangbagla, you gifted me the Great Hand Seal Esoteric Scripture. I am already deeply grateful for that; it is of immense use to me! You don’t need to be so polite. I must leave today.”
Seeing Li Yundong’s resolve, Qiangbagla did not press further, only asking, “Does Meiduo know?”
Li Yundong nodded. Qiangbagla sighed. “This child. Ah. Shall I call her to see you off?”
Li Yundong shook his head. “No need.” With that, he hoisted the Seven Treasures Spirit-Attuning Fan and his luggage onto his back and stepped out of Qiangbagla’s tent.
Qiangbagla rushed out from behind him, took a horse tethered nearby, and thrust the reins into Li Yundong’s hand. “Take this. It will lighten your burden when you grow tired on the road.”
Li Yundong laughed. “Qiangbagla, I am a cultivator. How can I engage in such lazy behavior? It’s like asking you to slack off during your pilgrimage—would your heart allow it?”
Qiangbagla fell silent. After a moment, he said, “Then take more dry rations and water. That much should be acceptable, right?”
Li Yundong considered it, then happily accepted Qiangbagla’s kindness, taking a bundle of barley cakes and a waterskin filled to the brim with milk wine, and set off once more.
By this time, the nomads in the camp had heard that Li Yundong was leaving and came out in droves to say their goodbyes.
Li Yundong smiled and greeted them, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, but he did not see Meiduo. He let out a silent sigh and turned to depart.
Only when Li Yundong had shrunk to a small black speck on the horizon did Meiduo come running breathlessly, shouting as she ran, “Qiangbagla, Han-jia brother has already left?”
When she finally reached Qiangbagla, she stopped, looking forlornly at Li Yundong’s receding figure. In her hand, she clutched a pair of cloth shoes she had just finished sewing, biting her lip tightly, silent, as tears plopped onto the ground.
Qiangbagla sighed. “Hurry, ride my horse and chase after him! There’s still time.”
Meiduo shook her head, choking back a sob. “If he had a place for me in his heart, he would have looked back. When he looks back, I will chase him down and give him these shoes. How can he walk such a long road without shoes?”
But she stared steadfastly after Li Yundong’s retreating form, only to see that he never once glanced back, until his figure finally vanished completely over the horizon.
Meiduo could hold back no longer. She collapsed onto Qiangbagla’s shoulder and began to weep loudly, crying out between sobs, “Why wouldn’t he even look back at me once? Does he not have even a tiny bit of feeling for me?”
Qiangbagla gently stroked Meiduo’s hair. “Silly child, he was afraid that if he looked back even once, you truly would settle into his heart!”
Meiduo felt a slight easing of her pain upon hearing this. She wiped her tears and looked eagerly at Qiangbagla. “Are you telling the truth?”
Qiangbagla smiled, then gave a gentle sigh. “Alright, stop crying. If fate allows, you will surely meet again!”
Meiduo gazed wistfully in the direction Li Yundong had gone and could not help but begin to sing again.
“That day, eyes closed amidst the incense smoke of the scripture hall, I suddenly heard the true mantra in your chanting.”
“That month, I spun all the prayer wheels, not for transcendence, but only to touch your fingertips.”
“That year, I prostrated, doing long kowtows on the mountain path, not to seek an audience, but only to lie close to your warmth.”
“That lifetime, turning the mountains, turning the waters, turning the stupas—not to cultivate for the next life, but only to meet you along the way.”
Meiduo’s singing was melodious and sweet, a fact the Tibetan compatriots knew well. But the words she sang now sprang from the very depths of her soul, each phrase filled with true emotion. Under the outpouring of her genuine feeling, her song became exceptionally beautiful and heart-rending. For a time, everyone listening was stunned silent.
The world grew utterly still, with only the voice of this Tibetan girl echoing softly.
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