Arrived in Lhasa on the evening of the 14th, the driver who came to pick us up looked a bit like Ma Huateng, I thought to myself when Ma Huateng did not engage in QQ, but came to Tibet to engage in transportation. Ma Huateng www.biquge.info who gave us a hata, which was the first time to accept a hata, and it looked a bit like a scarf.

When I arrived at the hotel, the first thing was naturally to release the novel, we set off on the afternoon of the 12th, and that day in order to write the chapter on the 13th, Shengsheng dragged on for an hour before leaving, but the two chapters that were written couldn't be set to be released on the 13th, so they had to be sent all on the 12th. However, after arriving at the hotel, I found that there was a problem with the computer, and I couldn't even connect to the Internet, so I had to figure out a way the next day, which made me a little scared, and I didn't update it for two days, which was the first time for my new book.

On the first night I came to Tibet, I had insomnia and I thought of her. In the past, when we were still studying, she appeared frequently in my eyes and heart, but now she only appears in my heart, and it is not realistic to want to see each other. I don't know why, in a strange place, I always think of those familiar old people, where are they at this moment? When I fall asleep, the pillow is empty, and I want someone to sleep with, with a real body in my arms, and I sleep very steadily.

Perhaps this is the dream of every teenager, with red sleeves and a soft bed.

There are romantic affairs, and there are stories written in the pen.

The sky in Tibet is very blue, like the kind of blue that lived in the countryside when I was a child, the blue is pure and thorough, and when you look up, you can see a picture scroll, red eaves, colorful prayer flags, and blue and white sky, which makes people forget the hustle and bustle of the world. It's like where everybody stayed when they were kids, and that feeling was clean and pure.

We lived on the second floor of a courtyard, the yard was planted with some vines, below was a very petty bourgeois and exotic restaurant, there were some blonde and blue-faced foreign friends sitting below drinking coffee, I sat in the corridor on the second floor and looked down, with snow-capped mountains and blue sky in the distance.

I held my notebook and tried to write something, but I found it difficult to describe the complex feeling, and even the most beautiful scenery was only used for lyricism. When I was a child, going to a distant place was called travel, and when I grew up, going to a distant place was traveling, I always thought that travel and travel are different, tourism is to see the scenery, travel is to see people, that person is not necessarily who it is, maybe it is the person in the memory, or maybe it is yourself, the travel of the body, just to find yourself.

But just when I wanted to be lyrical, the computer still couldn't connect to the Internet, and it didn't update for several days, and the number of novels in my collection dropped from 24,001 to 23,009, and the readers were my food and clothing. Thinking that it will continue for a while or like this, I feel very panicked, after so many days of unstable updates, will readers be angry and scold me for being an unfilial son?

There were six of us here, my two older sisters, and their three friends, and I was the only one who was a boy. I was very much looking forward to this kind of male and female trip, mainly to get to know the opposite sex, I had never met any other girls in Shanghai except for my colleagues at work, but the three of them came here by plane and didn't see each other on the first day.

On this day, our trip was the Potala Palace, and when we walked together, I finally saw them. To put it simply, one of these three girls is a female man, and the other is a weak woman. The last girl is the cousin of a weak woman, very temperamental, tall, with a simple ponytail, very white skin, and no makeup, natural beauty, very white and rich feeling.

We went to Barkhor Street together, where handicrafts were being sold on the side of the road, but it looked almost the same, the streets were full of people, tourists and Tibetans, and big yellow dogs sleeping on the ground. In the rest of the world, I have never seen the true faith, but thankfully, here I do. Some devout believers were lying on the ground in the middle of the streets, their foreheads and noses already covered with ash. There are also some old people, they hold a prayer wheel in one hand, a rosary in the other, chanting words in their mouths, walking around the Potala Palace, their wrinkled faces are full of serenity, and they take a random picture with a sense of hierarchy of characters, similar to the kind of photos that art students like to copy.

The sun is blazing in Lhasa, this is the city of sunshine, the closest place in the world to the sun. We wrapped ourselves tightly for fear of getting sunburned. We ate a restaurant recommended by the eldest sister, butter tea and yogurt I tasted shallowly, not as delicious as imagined, this meal is mainly for physiological needs to eat, appetite enjoyment is very little.

After lunch, we had a lot of food left, and soon some devout pilgrims came to ask for it, probably from far away, and the purity of faith sustained them to sneak over the mountains to the same place, which their ancestors had worshiped for generations. The belief in this religion makes people feel great when they think about it, and the power of the believers cannot be destroyed by any Iron Cavalry War Dynasty. In the vast past, countless dynasties in the world have been destroyed and born, but Buddhism, ******, and Christianity have always been circulating and have never been broken, which is the power of faith.

Next, we were temporarily separated, Bai Fumei and her sister Weak Woman went to the Jokhang Temple first, and the four of us returned to the hotel, took off our sweaters, set off lightly, and took a taxi straight to the Potala Palace. Lhasa is actually very small, as big as Chenzhou, and we soon arrived at the fabled palace. From a distance, the palace was built on a hill with steep sides, red and white bricks and tiles standing in the middle of the sacred mountain, and countless believers were circling prayer wheels around the city walls. We wanted to go up, but found that we needed to make an appointment in advance, so we had to give up, which was a pity.

We retreated and decided to walk around the Potala Palace, just at this time Bai Fumei and the weak woman called to meet us, but I couldn't tell the place, I went to pick them up, and the six of them started to walk around the Potala Palace together. The Potala Palace is surrounded by a large circle of prayer wheels, estimated to be thousands, and it is very tiring to turn, but on each prayer wheel, there are countless expectations of tourists or believers passing by here, and this sense of history is not possessed by the prayer wheels of street craft shops. The scenery along the way was good, and in a pool, I took an idyllic photo, and for the first time I was amazed that I was able to take such beautiful pictures, and it seems that my photographic skills are progressing very quickly.

After walking around, we saw a post office with many tourists mailing postcards to distant friends, and it seems that since we learned to use the Internet, we rarely use a pen to write, let alone mail letters. However, mailing postcards in Tibet will be very literary, we all decided to be literary and artistic, everyone wrote a postcard and mailed it out, as for whether people from afar can receive it, it all depends on fate.

As the sun set, we began to go home in the shadows, the night in Lhasa came very late, and the sun was still shining at half past seven, but when the sun had fallen, the temperature would suddenly drop, and I was unfortunately hit. After we dragged our tired bodies back to the accommodation, I rested in bed for a while, tired and hungry, and wanted to go to the corridor outside to surf the Internet, but the cold wind was howling outside, so I stayed outside for two minutes and hurried back to my room. At this time, my whole person was already wrong, and an hour later, the fever directly reached 38.2 degrees, just like the weather in Lhasa.

I thought it was okay, so I forcibly wrote a chapter of the novel with my mushy brain, but when I wrote 2,500 words, I couldn't stand it at all, I felt lightheaded, and I felt like I wanted to vomit. The eldest sister saw that my situation was not right, and a cold on the plateau could kill her, so she quickly called the owner of the hotel and took me to a nearby hospital, but the hospital was closed, as long as I went to a clinic, the doctor heard my situation, and calmly prescribed a box of medicine, and did not even measure the body temperature, which seemed to be strange.

Back at the hotel, I soaked in hot water, forcibly wrote the last few hundred words, and sent it quickly after writing, but the broken notebook could not be connected to the wireless, and it took a long time to succeed. However, I found that soaking my feet in hot water is very effective for fever, I soaked my feet for almost an hour, and I felt that the fever should be reduced to more than 37 degrees, and everyone can try this method when they have a fever in the future.

On the second night I came to Lhasa, I fell asleep in a fever, and in a hazy dream, I thought of her again, and when I was sending a postcard at the post office today, I sent her a text message asking for the address, but when she replied to me, I had all sent my postcards. I haven't seen her for years, she's a gentle nurse now, and now I'm sick, so let me be her patient once and let her take care of me. Oh, or not, she's in the oncology department, so I don't want to get tumors, but I hope she can be transferred to the cold and fever department, so that I am willing to be her patient, but not too often, or the body is important.

Day 3.

Today I was going to go to Norbulingka, but I heard that it wasn't fun, so we didn't go. The three women were basically resting in the hotel, and the weak woman seemed to have been hit, and the altitude sickness was relatively strong. Actually, I'm fine, but I had a fever on the first day and a nosebleed on the second day, and after a night's sleep, the symptoms of the previous day will disappear, and I can meet the next symptom with a full mental attitude.

My eldest sister was commissioned by a friend to go to an old Tibetan house to find treasures, I thought it was very interesting when I heard it, like an adventure in an online novel, there are peerless treasures blinded by dust, waiting for me, a destined person to open up the light for it, let it reappear in the light of day, and the three of us went together.

The old Tibetan's home is very far away and remote, we walked for a long time before entering, his home is very dim, there are all kinds of Tibetan treasures, there are Buddha statues, thangkas, swords, agate, pearls, Buddha beads, and some unnamed things, placed in dark corners, some are still stained with lamp oil and mud, that atmosphere is very in line with the feeling of the old Tibetans, treasures are generally hidden in inconspicuous places. If he had decorated it luxuriously, inlaid with neon lights, a few tweeters with the Phoenix Legend, and put the treasure in a glass cabinet and wiped it clean, the grade would have come down all of a sudden, no different from the handicraft store on the street. The better the decoration, the less I feel when the baby is placed. It's like seeing a wine glass in a five-star hotel, you think it's just a drinking glass, but digging out a wine glass in the deep mountains and old forests is a cultural relic.

Among these treasures, there are two things that make me feel a little interesting, one is the nine-eyed dzi, which is only found in small quantities in Tibet in the world, which is very rare. There is also a string of human skull Buddha beads, a whole string of Buddha beads are made of the human skull of a profound lama, it sounds very scary, but the texture is really different to the hand, very lush, like jade, the price is hundreds of thousands, we must not be able to afford it.

My sister took photos of those treasures and passed them to a friend, and her friend asked her to buy some valuable treasures according to the photos, but I didn't feel anything when I looked at those treasures, except that I inadvertently fell in love with a pendant sewn of cowhide, bulging in the middle, as if something was wrapped in it. This feeling is a bit mysterious.,It's something similar to fate.,In many treasures, I fell in love with it.,Love at first sight.,Maybe this is the edge of the eye.。 The old Tibetan said that this thing is called a cowhide amulet, and there is actually a scripture hidden in the cowhide, which can bring peace to people. But this thing is not expensive, he saw that I liked it and gave it to me, and I immediately hung it around my neck. Suddenly, I felt a mysterious power blessing on my body, and I felt that the cowhide amulet probably contained the long-lost "Sutra of the Past", which contained the truth of the immovable past.

After buying the baby, we went to the bank to pay the old Tibetan, he happily invited us to have a Tibetan meal, he said that he has two wives, one in the countryside and the other in the city, it is estimated that it is the traditional custom of Tibet, and a man can take more than one wife. I think this custom should be carried forward and spread throughout the country.

After returning home, we didn't go anywhere else, we went out for dinner together in the afternoon, but the cowhide amulet somehow didn't bring me good luck immediately, and in the evening when I was coding words, I suddenly had a nosebleed, and it gushed down drop by drop, it looked terrible, and the air in Tibet was very dry. Later, I managed to stop the bleeding, and the whole bathroom looked like a murder scene, bloody.

On the first night, the code word was not connected to the Internet, the second day the code word had a fever, and the third day the code word had a nosebleed, so it seems that the fourth day can not code the word, I have to rewrite the diary, that is, the current journal, at least there are no symptoms until now.

But what was even more unfortunate was that when I stopped my nosebleed and continued to finish that chapter of the novel, I found that the notebook could not be connected to the Internet and could not be sent, so I had to give up.

Well, I've written so many running accounts, and I've finally written it to this day, I'm so sleepy, I can't wait to finish it and go to bed.

We woke up early this morning because we were going to Nyingchi, which was hundreds of kilometers away. The six of us had an unpalatable breakfast, looked all the way in the morning light, and found the car we packed, but this time the driver was not Ma Huateng, it is estimated that he went back to QQ and changed to a new driver. Along the way, we passed through some very interesting places, such as a mira pass, 5013 meters above sea level, the cold wind howled, we went down to take a photo and hurried to get on the bus, but the photo taken can't be seen, it's so ugly, we must resolutely delete it. The scenery along the way is very good, not like the desolate next door that I saw when I came to Tibet by train a few days ago, and there was not even a tree.

Today, the place passing by is surrounded by high mountains on both sides, the vertical height is very high, and you look up at the green trees and mountains, the blue sky and white clouds, which is very feeling, a bit like the scenery in the screen advertisement of China Film Marketing. We drove for a long time, found a Sichuan restaurant, is a foothold, the food is delicious, this experience is written in the talk today, here is not cumbersome, can write a little less is a little.

After eating, I sat in the car and watched the scenery of the rapidly retreating mountains on both sides, which were the highest peaks I had ever seen, cliffs, eagles making nests on the cliffs, hovering in the sky at an unknown height. In fact, a girl who can't be chased is like this mountain eagle, she hovers where you can see, but it is a place you can't reach, and you can only look at it. When you look up at her, she is the highest point in the world, the only one under the blue sky, the focus of attention, but when she looks at you, it is a kind of look down on all living beings, do you know that she can see tens of thousands of people when she looks down in the sky? You are as small as an ant in her eyes, hidden in the sea of people, inconspicuous.

In the afternoon, we went to the first attraction of the day - Basong Tso, this is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen, the beautiful scenery I have seen in Tibet before is nothing, but this beautiful scenery shocked my heart. It's a bit like Switzerland, with steep alpine vegetation and a calm green lake below, alpine pastures, cows and horses grazing, and snow-capped mountains in the distance. This is a beautiful scenery that cannot be captured with a camera, and can only be enjoyed with the eyes for oneself. If I could multiply my manuscript tenfold, then I would try to stay here for a few months, raise a horse and a dog, and surely any troubles and illnesses would be cured after seeing such a beautiful scenery, and my heart would be very peaceful.

There are only two places to park in Bassoonco, one is the observation deck to see the mountain lake, and the other is the island in the middle of the lake, but we are all tired, so we didn't go up to the island in the middle of the lake, just casually went over to take a look.

Leaving from Basong Co, we got on the bus and continued to Nyingchi, the altitude here is relatively low, there is no altitude sickness, in fact, I did not have altitude sickness, fever and nosebleeds were not my intention, just accidental.

The hotel in Nyingchi was finally able to connect to the Internet, and I quickly sent out a chapter of the novel, but the new chapter was not written, so as not to have any accidents, and rewrote this journal. I don't know where I'm going tomorrow, and the itinerary is in their hands. Actually, I kind of like the feeling of being able to go to a new place every day, just like a poet.

The poet's hometown is always on the road.

-- Huang Huayi, September 18, 2013, Nyingchi, Tibet