By the blue lake, I met the goddess they talked about.
The surface of the lake is like a mirror, reflecting the endless snow-capped mountains and clouds without any impurities. She is as pure as a newborn lamb from my flock, with silvery hair and translucent skin, and skin as delicate as snow, as if carved from suet jade. The prayer flags were blown by the howling wind, and the sunlight spliced patches of color on her fair skin. She was wearing an iris blue Tibetan robe, and the hair was clustered around her slender neck, and was turned into small flowers by the wind.
I was stunned when the strong head sheep next to me nudged my arm with its horn, signaling that it was time to go home.
"An, don't make trouble." I gently patted the sheep's furry head and comforted it gently.
The goddess seemed to notice my gaze, and she raised her eyes.
Those eyes reflected the purest snow lotus in the snow-capped mountains. The prayer flags were reflected in her eyes, as if they were broken by ripples and slowly faded away. There was only curiosity in her eyes about me and the sheep, and no other emotions.
The frantic sheepdog circled around me and barked, urging me to go home. I nodded, got on the maroon horse beside me, snapped my whip, and led the sheep home.
Looking back, the goddess lowered her head and held a holy hada in her hand. The flying hada melted into her white hair, quietly covering her clear and transparent eyes.
My name is Du Juan, an ordinary shepherdess on the vast grasslands of Tibet.
My mother took me to the shrine to pray, and I met the goddess again.
Her name is Cheng Xue. As her name suggests, she is as clean, clear and spotless as the snow in the morning. She is like a finely carved work of art, sitting on her knees in the center of the hall. Her eyes reflected the howling wind on the plateau, the majestic mountains, the clear lake, and the happy creatures. She was not wearing a Tibetan robe today, but was wearing a beautiful red silk cloak. It bloomed like Gesang flowers on her fair skin, making her face slightly rosy. My mother told me she was only seventeen years old. She is only one year older than me. That is the most beautiful Gesang flower I have ever seen.
Intention: Fame, wealth and freedom. Who will win the first place?