Snow Festival
by Dang Yimin
About This Novel
Two years ago today, I left Tibet. That night, I stayed up all night. After midnight, I quietly opened the curtains and waited quietly for dawn. I want to watch the plateau sky getting brighter for the last time. I am about to leave the plateau and go to work at zero altitude, but there is no joy in my heart, only sadness. An unspeakable sadness surged in the blood, as if it would break through the chest at any time and drown the unforgettable past. Really reluctant to give up! After all, the plateau has left behind me more than thirty years of my life, as well as those comrades who once lived with me day and night and are now lying quietly in the ice and snow. Now that I'm gone, when can I return to the plateau, touch those frozen tombstones, light a cigarette for my sleeping comrades, and sprinkle a glass of highland barley wine? Fortunately, my tombstone is next to their tomb, which can be regarded as another kind of companionship. I watched the window turn white little by little. When the first ray of dawn on the plateau pierced the sky, I couldn't help but burst into tears...
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