There are no business wars or scheming here. I only hope that the sunshine on the plateau can gild your red clothes with golden years and make you smile like a flower forever. There is a Potala in everyone's heart, where Tsangyang Gyatso lives, as well as the wine shops and girls in the old alleys. You light a cigarette, boil a pot of wine, make a cup of butter tea, lean on the felt on the roof, bathe in the eight o'clock sun in Tibet, look at the palace in the distance, and listen to me tell you the story of our youth.