Autumn Leaves Never Return to Their Roots

I left, leaving that man, the city where I had lived for many years, and Meng An. I went to Tibet, to a remote region steeped in religion, to purify my soul. I knew that would be where I belonged.

I would wait for that man to get out. He was guilty, and so was I. We should be together, waiting for Heaven to grant us a second chance at life.

I spent all day with the innocent children, listening as they loudly recited the passages I had taught them. In their young faces, I saw hope for the rest of my life. The sun in Lhasa was huge, far bigger than any I had seen in all the cities I had visited. The sky was a deep blue, almost unreal.

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