After leaving the hot spring behind, everyone climbed back into the vehicle and continued deeper into the heart of Genie.
Their destination was the same.
Zeba Village.
A small settlement nestled beneath the sacred mountain itself.
Here, snow peaks towered overhead year-round.
The locals were warm and straightforward.
Life moved at an unhurried pace.
And the untouched beauty of the land made it feel like a forgotten paradise hidden from the modern world.
Unlike the other travelers, who only planned to stay for a day or two before moving on, Lin Mo had no intention of rushing.
She wanted to stay.
To live here for a while.
To watch the mountains at sunrise and sunset.
To experience the local culture.
To find the inspiration she had been searching for ever since leaving the city behind.
…
When the vehicle finally rolled into the village, the golden light of evening had already begun spilling across the valley.
Snow-covered peaks glowed beneath the setting sun.
The entire landscape seemed dipped in liquid gold.
Everyone unloaded their luggage and scattered in different directions to find accommodations.
Lin Mo was looking around when a timid voice suddenly called out.
“Would you like a place to stay?”
She turned around.
A young Tibetan girl stood a few steps away.
The child couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old.
Her cheeks were flushed pink from the mountain air.
Her large dark eyes shone with hope.
The sight was so innocent that refusing felt impossible.
Lin Mo smiled.
“Sure.”
“Show me.”
The little girl immediately brightened.
Then she grabbed one side of Lin Mo’s suitcase and proudly led the way.
…
The guesthouse was a traditional Tibetan courtyard converted into a family-run inn.
The wooden gates stood wide open.
Prayer flags fluttered gently in the breeze overhead.
The moment Lin Mo entered, a friendly Tibetan couple came forward to greet her.
The husband quickly took her luggage.
The wife welcomed her inside with warm smiles and slightly awkward Mandarin.
The atmosphere immediately felt welcoming.
Comfortable.
Like visiting a relative’s home.
Lin Mo looked around carefully.
The furnishings were simple.
Nothing luxurious.
Nothing extravagant.
But everything was spotless.
The room rates were equally appealing.
One hundred yuan per night.
For someone planning a longer stay, it was perfect.
She accepted almost immediately.
The woman beamed.
Then affectionately patted the little girl on the head.
“My name is Jiayang.”
She introduced herself proudly before leading Lin Mo upstairs.
“Come choose a room.”
…
The second floor contained several guest rooms.
Most were similar.
Except one.
At the far end of the corridor.
The moment Lin Mo opened its door, she knew she’d found the one.
A large window faced directly toward the mountains.
Outside stood endless grasslands.
Beyond them rose the sacred snow peaks of Genie.
The view stole her breath away.
“I’ll take this room.”
There wasn’t even a second of hesitation.
Jiayang laughed.
“I knew you’d like it.”
…
After unpacking her belongings, Lin Mo planned to head outside and search for dinner.
Before she could leave, however, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
A moment later, Jiayang appeared carrying a wooden tray.
Steam drifted upward from several dishes.
Tsampa.
Butter tea.
Air-dried yak jerky.
Traditional Tibetan food.
“Eat first.”
Jiayang smiled warmly.
“It’s free.”
Lin Mo blinked in surprise.
Then genuine gratitude filled her heart.
“Thank you.”
“Really.”
Standing behind Jiayang, the little girl peeked curiously around her mother’s shoulder.
Large eyes.
Bright smile.
Endless curiosity.
The child stared at Lin Mo as though she’d discovered a rare animal.
Lin Mo couldn’t help laughing.
Digging through her backpack, she produced several chocolate bars.
“These are for you.”
The little girl’s eyes widened immediately.
She looked toward her mother for permission.
Only after receiving a nod did she happily accept them.
Then she flashed Lin Mo a radiant smile.
One capable of melting anyone’s heart.
…
The tsampa tasted unlike anything Lin Mo had eaten before.
Slightly sweet.
Slightly salty.
Simple.
Primitive.
Rustic.
She couldn’t honestly call it delicious.
Yet somehow, it possessed its own unique charm.
The butter tea, however, completely surprised her.
Rich.
Creamy.
Fragrant.
One sip spread warmth throughout her entire body.
The fatigue accumulated over days of travel seemed to melt away instantly.
By the time she finished eating, both her stomach and heart felt full.
…
That night, Lin Mo lay in bed researching the next stage of her journey.
At least, she tried to.
The internet signal in the village was painfully weak.
Pages loaded at a snail’s pace.
Sometimes they didn’t load at all.
After several failed attempts, she gave up completely.
With a sigh, she set her phone aside.
Darkness filled the room.
Almost immediately, the familiar headache returned.
A throbbing pain pulsed behind her eyes.
It felt as though an invisible string inside her skull was being tightened little by little.
She stared at the ceiling.
Then released a long breath.
This journey was proving far more challenging than she’d imagined.
…
The following morning, Lin Mo discovered Jiayang feeding cattle outside the guesthouse.
“Where can I get the best view of the snow mountains?”
Jiayang pointed toward a trail behind the village.
“Follow that path.”
“All the way up.”
She smiled.
“You’ll reach the glacier.”
“Most visitors go there.”
Lin Mo looked toward the mountain.
From this distance, it didn’t seem particularly steep.
Nothing she couldn’t handle.
Or so she thought.
Unfortunately, she was about to learn a very important lesson.
Never underestimate high altitude.
And never underestimate nature.
…
Back in her room, Lin Mo prepared carefully.
Sketchbook.
Camera.
Oxygen canister.
Backpack.
Sunscreen.
Baseball cap.
Everything she needed.
By the time she stepped outside, the mountain sun had already become fierce.
The ultraviolet rays at this elevation were far stronger than she’d expected.
Within minutes, her fair skin began stinging.
Frowning, she returned upstairs.
A few moments later, she emerged wearing a sun-protection face covering.
Only her eyes remained visible.
She glanced at herself in a mirror near the entrance.
Then burst out laughing.
She looked ridiculous.
Like some suspicious traveler trying not to be recognized.
After a moment, she shrugged.
Who cared?
Nobody here knew her anyway.
…
Elsewhere, Danzeng was making preparations of his own.
Every year, he visited Genie Glacier at least once.
The day before had been entirely consumed by work.
Today, he intended to ride into the mountains.
Enjoy the scenery.
Clear his head.
Then return to Kangding.
After all, he’d already stayed longer than planned.
Though if he were honest with himself…
There was another reason.
A small part of him still wondered whether the girl from the airport might somehow be nearby.
…
Danzeng owned a horse named Dorje.
His father had gifted him the horse on his eighteenth birthday.
Ten years had passed since then.
When Wild Haven Genie opened, Danzeng brought Dorje here permanently.
The horse thrived in the mountains.
Grasslands.
Snow peaks.
Fresh air.
Freedom.
Everything a horse could ever want.
Unlike crowded cities, where creatures like Dorje could never truly belong.
Over time, the intelligent animal became something of a celebrity among guests.
Tourists loved taking photos with him.
Children adored feeding him.
And whenever Danzeng returned to Genie, he always chose horseback over vehicles.
Riding across the plateau made him feel alive in a way nothing else could.
…
Meanwhile…
Lin Mo was regretting every life decision she’d made that morning.
The climb was brutal.
Far worse than she’d anticipated.
Other hikers passed by occasionally.
Some mentioned a famous local landmark.
The Lonely Tree.
Looking upward, Lin Mo could barely make it out.
A solitary tree standing alone near the ridge.
Enduring wind.
Snow.
Rain.
Sunshine.
Year after year.
Something about it resonated deeply with her.
Standing alone.
Just like her.
…
Tourists rode past on horseback.
Others sped by on motorcycles.
Everyone seemed energetic.
Relaxed.
Happy.
Meanwhile, Lin Mo felt as though her lungs were slowly betraying her.
Breathing became harder.
Each step required more effort than the last.
Yet she still didn’t fully understand what was happening.
She assumed she was simply tired.
Perhaps a little carsick from the previous day’s journey.
Perhaps slightly out of shape.
Nothing serious.
Certainly nothing dangerous.
At least that’s what she told herself.
The truth was very different.
Altitude sickness had already become severe.
…
The sun blazed overhead.
Her fingertips grew cold.
A crushing weight settled inside her chest.
Lin Mo finally stopped.
Hands trembling slightly, she pulled out her oxygen canister.
One deep breath.
Then another.
For a moment, she felt marginally better.
She looked up.
The Lonely Tree seemed strangely distant.
Strangely blurry.
The world tilted.
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then tried taking another step forward.
Her legs gave out instantly.
Darkness swallowed everything.
The mountain rushed upward.
And Lin Mo collapsed.
…
Shouts erupted nearby.
Someone screamed.
Footsteps pounded across the hillside.
In the distance—
Hoofbeats thundered.
…
Danzeng had been riding uphill when he spotted someone collapse ahead.
His heart lurched.
Without hesitation, he dug his heels into Dorje’s sides.
The horse surged forward like an arrow released from its bow.
Wind roared past them.
By the time he arrived, several tourists had already gathered around the unconscious woman.
Everyone looked frightened.
Panicked.
No one knew what to do.
Danzeng jumped from the saddle.
Dropped to one knee.
And reached for her.
Her eyes were closed.
Her breathing was weak.
An oxygen canister rested loosely in her hand.
He immediately grabbed it and pulled aside the face covering.
The next second—
He froze.
His pupils contracted sharply.
His heartbeat skipped.
For a brief moment, the entire world seemed to stop.
It was her.
Lin Mo.
…
A surge of panic crashed through him.
Then years of experience forced him back into focus.
Stay calm.
Act first.
Think later.
He quickly placed the oxygen mask over her face.
One arm supported her head.
The other gently rubbed her back.
Helping her regulate her breathing.
His movements were practiced.
Efficient.
Steady.
The result of a lifetime spent living on the plateau.
Gradually, her breathing improved.
Color slowly returned to her pale face.
But Danzeng wasn’t willing to gamble.
Not with altitude sickness.
Not with her.
Every second mattered.
…
Without another word, he carefully lifted her into his arms.
The gathered tourists watched in stunned silence.
Then he carried her directly to Dorje.
With surprising gentleness, he settled her onto the horse’s back.
Next came his jacket.
Folded.
Wrapped.
Secured.
Making sure she couldn’t slip or fall.
Only after checking everything twice did he mount behind her.
One arm circled protectively around her waist.
The other held the reins.
“Go!”
Dorje launched forward immediately.
Horse and rider raced down the mountainside.
Wind swept through the valley.
The sacred peaks watched silently overhead.
And for the first time since meeting her—
Danzeng finally held the girl he’d been unable to forget.
Though the circumstances were far from what he’d imagined.
…
Wild Haven Genie appeared in the distance.
Minutes later, they arrived.
Ignoring every curious stare from staff and guests alike, Danzeng carried Lin Mo straight inside.
Up the stairs.
Down the hallway.
Into an empty guest room.
He carefully laid her on the bed.
Immediately activated the room’s oxygen system.
Then rushed away again.
Glucose water.
Altitude medication.
Everything she needed.
He returned moments later.
Kneeling beside the bed.
Supporting her head carefully.
Trying to help her drink.
Only then did he realize something unsettling.
For the first time in many years—
His composure was slipping.
The calmness he had always taken pride in was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.
His gaze remained fixed on her pale face.
And his voice, when he finally spoke, was lower than usual.
Gentler.
Almost tender.
“Lin Mo…”
“Wake up.”