The Wind in the Mountains Makes My Heart Feel Like the Moon

Su Wan, a freshman Han girl, met Tashi, a young Tibetan man who was explaining Tibetan Buddhism at the Buddhist College in Ganzi, western Sichuan. When they first met, she didn't even remember his name, but after parting, she was haunted by that quiet and gentle figure. After graduating from college, Su Wan returned to the Buddhist College alone to "gamble for a reunion" with good results in the law and postgraduate entrance examinations, and actually met Kelsang again. That summer, she lived on the plateau for nearly two months. The butter tea during the high altitude sickness, the companions on the prayer path, and the silence in the sun made the two hearts quietly get closer without saying a word. They all knew that his roots were between the snowy mountains and prayer flags, and her path was in the city's courts and files. This emotion was destined to be separated by mountains and seas from the beginning. There was no sadness when we parted, only a tacit understanding. In the next half of his life, Su Wan became a well-known lawyer, rejected all suitors, and went to western Sichuan alone every summer; Tashi never married, guarding the red house of the Buddhist Academy, waiting for her to visit year after year. They never said they loved each other, but they used decades of care to prove their feelings for each other. They didn't even leave their contact information, but they hid each other in the deepest part of their lives. Until a certain year, Su and Anhui never set foot in western Sichuan again, but Tashi still stopped at the corner of the prayer path, caressing the turquoise bracelet she left behind. As the wind blows over the plateau and the moon shines on the steps, this unspoken emotion finally becomes an agreement that lasts longer than the world of mortals. It is as light as water but as deep as the sea.