Sang Luo smiled. “Hello, Ciren A-Bu.”
Looking at Sang Luo’s bright, beautiful eyes and delicate features, Ciren couldn’t help swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. His voice came out with a hint of inexplicable huskiness.
“Hello, A-Luo Nuomu (little sister).”
Zhandui was pleased to see that his two children were getting along well enough. He laughed heartily a few times.
“Good children, you’ve had a hard journey. Ciren, you carry A-Luo on the horse. I’ll take the luggage and your A-Jia (aunt), and we’ll all go home together.”
Ciren nodded. He pulled a thick white woolen blanket from the bundle hanging beside the saddle and handed it to Sang Luo.
“It’s windy on horseback. Put this around you.”
Sang Luo thanked him. She quietly tightened the woolen blanket with one hand, then used the arm Ciren extended toward her with the other to nimbly climb onto the horse.
Ciren braced both hands against the horse’s back and swung his long leg over the saddle, settling firmly behind Sang Luo.
It was only because of this movement that Sang Luo realized that when Ciren had been standing beside the horse just now, his legs had actually looked slightly longer than the horse’s legs.
Sang Luo silently swallowed her envy.
No wonder he could mount a horse so easily.
The magnificent horse galloped across the endless grassland.
The rushing wind made Sang Luo cough, so she instinctively leaned backward and accidentally fell against Ciren’s chest.
Feeling the solid contours of his broad chest behind her, Sang Luo couldn’t help tilting her head up to look at him.
Ciren’s appearance was actually somewhat different from the traditional look of men from the Tibetan region.
His face was slightly narrow, with a somewhat pointed chin. His round, charming eyes, combined with the faint freckles scattered across his face, added a touch of youthful wildness to his already handsome features.
He was like a young eagle soaring across the grasslands.
Sensing Sang Luo’s gaze, the veins on Ciren’s hand tightened around the reins, and he unconsciously gripped them harder.
The steed beneath him seemed to sense its master’s emotions and sped up. The red agate bead hanging from Ciren’s left ear swayed with the motion, dazzling brightly beneath the sunlight.
After galloping for half an hour, the horse finally returned to the village.
Ciren jumped down first, then wrapped both arms around Sang Luo’s slender waist, preparing to lift her down from the horse.
At that moment, a young girl wearing traditional Tibetan clothing ran out of one of the houses in the distance.
“Ciren, you’re back!”
She excitedly ran up to him.
“I was just talking to my father about—Ciren, who is she?!”
“This is Aunt Lhazhen’s daughter.”
Ciren’s introduction was extremely brief.
“Aunt Lhazhen…”
The girl muttered the name to herself before her eyes suddenly widened.
“Isn’t she the woman your father is going to marry? Then what about you? Are you going to marry her too?!”
Sang Luo felt extremely uncomfortable being pointed at so rudely. She slapped the girl’s finger away and was just about to say something when Ciren beat her to it.
This time, Ciren did not answer the girl’s question. He merely said coldly, “Yangjin, this has nothing to do with you. It’s none of your business.”
After being rebuffed, Yangjin glared at Sang Luo, let out an angry “Hmph,” and stormed away.
Ciren paid no attention to her. Instead, he gently lifted Sang Luo down from the horse.
Once Sang Luo was standing steadily, she began looking around at the houses.
The village where her mother had been born lay at the foot of the mountains in Gongjue. The village houses were all low, stone-built structures, constructed from locally sourced rocks mixed with packed clay.
Firewood and dried yak dung were piled beside the low entrances, while Tibetan mastiffs were tethered in the courtyards to guard the homes.
The earthen-yellow houses, varying in shades, blended into the blue-green hills, giving the entire village an atmosphere of vitality and simplicity.
Not far away, colorful prayer flags covered the prayer-flag square.
When the wind blew, the flags rippled like waves of brilliant color, filling the place with a strong sense of local culture.
“Ayi is inside. You two go in first.”
Lhazhen nodded and led Sang Luo into the house.
When she pushed open the door, she saw a woman with graying hair lying on the bed. Her face was sallow and her body gaunt, making it clear that she was seriously ill.
Only when she saw Lhazhen did those cloudy eyes show the slightest movement.
“Mom!”
Lhazhen rushed over crying.
“Lhazhen, my child…”
Mother and daughter held each other and cried for a full hour before Sang Luo finally managed to persuade them to wipe away their tears.
“Lhazhen, you’ve had a difficult journey. Let Ciren take A-Luo to the Holy Mountain hot spring for a bath first.”
Zhandui had been standing at the doorway listening for quite some time. Only when the crying gradually subsided did he finally speak.
“Lhazhen, go to the cabinet. There are some new clothes I made for A-Luo inside. Have Ciren carry them for her.”
Only then did Lhazhen wipe away her tears. She took out the new clothes and handed them to Ciren, watching as he led her daughter away.
Yangjin’s shouting earlier had already alerted many people in the village that a Han Chinese woman had arrived.
Now, when they saw Ciren bringing Sang Luo outside, they all hid in places they thought were well concealed and secretly watched.
Quite a few of them even let out one astonished exclamation after another when they saw Sang Luo’s appearance.
Ciren acted as though he neither saw nor heard any of it and continued leading Sang Luo toward the hot spring.
The hot spring halfway up the mountain was formed from natural depressions in the rock. The locals had used simple wooden and stone barriers to create shallow pools of various sizes. Dry barley stalks were piled around the edges.
Sang Luo looked at Ciren standing some distance away with his back turned toward her, making no intention of leaving.
Her ears unconsciously turned red.
Ciren heard no sound of clothing rustling behind him. Guessing that Sang Luo, who had grown up among Han Chinese people, might feel embarrassed having him nearby, he took the initiative to explain.
“Sometimes men with bad intentions come here to sneak a look. I need to stay here and keep watch over you. Just think of me as a rock.”
Seeing that Ciren really did keep his back turned and remained completely motionless, Sang Luo did not make a fuss. She took off her clothes and stepped into the hot spring through the misty steam.
Once her entire body was submerged in the water, her graceful curves appeared and disappeared beneath the rippling surface. Exhausted from the journey, Sang Luo let out a long, comfortable sigh.
With his back toward the hot spring, Ciren listened to the sound of the water and Sang Luo behind him. The blush on his face spread all the way down to his neck.
Since it was daytime and people could come to the hot spring at any time, Sang Luo did not soak for long.
After getting out, she quickly braided her hair, changed into the new clothes Ayi had prepared, and walked toward Ciren with a healthy flush on her face.
“A-Bu, let’s go back.”
Ciren turned around and saw Sang Luo walking toward him.
He froze in place.
The young woman seemed almost radiant with fair skin. Her delicate brows and eyes were complemented by tassel silver earrings swaying gently in the breeze, while coral beads in her hair added to their beauty, making her already lovely face appear even more alluring.
At that moment, Ciren felt as though the legendary goddess of the snow mountains had suddenly taken physical form before his eyes.
Sang Luo had already walked several steps ahead when she noticed Ciren standing behind her like a wooden statue. She turned back in confusion.
“Ciren A-Bu, aren’t you coming back?”
Ciren touched the earring on his ear before hurrying over to Sang Luo. He took the old clothes she was carrying.
“I’ll carry them for you.”
When they returned to the village, Ciren and Sang Luo had just reached the courtyard gate when a dark figure suddenly lunged at Ciren.