Professor Fang Xin remained silent for a long while, seemingly grappling with a significant decision. When he finally spoke, his voice was firm. In English, he called into the next room, "Marie!" A voice responded from within, and the professor instructed, "Contact Professor Gu Geluo for me and let him know that I won't be able to attend the Matthieu Forum this year. Please convey my deepest apologies, and be sure to be diplomatic about it."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba, overwhelmed with emotion, could hardly find the words. He gripped Professor Fang Xin's hand tightly and repeated, "Mentor... Mentor..."
Marie, Professor Fang Xin's Filipino housemaid, burst out of the room, staring at the professor in disbelief. "Professor? Did I hear you correctly? I think I must have misheard. Did you just say you're not going to Germany?"
Professor Fang Xin nodded with certainty. Marie repeated, "Professor Fang, are you really not going to attend the forum? That's something you've always wanted to do!"
Fang Xin exhaled deeply, smiled warmly at Marie, patted her shoulder, and said, "Go ahead, Marie. The phone book is under the desk lamp on the left side of my desk."
Marie, full of doubt, reluctantly left the room, muttering under her breath, "He's lost his mind. The professor must be crazy. After a lifetime of silent research, who would give up the highest honor that could prove their worth? For what?" Then she thought to herself, "That tall man must be the devil incarnate!"
As soon as Professor Fang Xin turned around, Zhuo Mu Qiangba embraced him tightly, unable to contain his excitement. He shouted, "Mentor, you're the best mentor! The very best!"
Fang Xin struggled to catch his breath, saying, "That's enough, Qiangba! Enough, I can't breathe. Alright, we still have many unresolved issues. Let's take another look at the photographs."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba held the professor's hand and suggested, "There's no need, Mentor. The car is downstairs; we can discuss it on the way. The plane leaves in two hours."
Pointing at Zhuo Mu Qiangba, Fang Xin smiled slightly and said, "You sneaky fellow—you had this all planned out, didn't you? But at least let me pack a few clothes, alright?"
Zhuo Mu Qiangba shook his head. "No need to pack. I brought the wool coat you left in Tibet last time, and I've also packed three sets of Chinese tunics, along with shoes and socks. But do you need any instruments or equipment?"
Fang Xin chuckled, "In that case, it's simple. All I need is my laptop."
Before Fang Xin could finish speaking, Zhuo Mu Qiangba had already picked up the security case and laptop, heading for the door. Standing at the door with his hands full, he still managed to make a polite gesture, inviting Fang Xin to follow. Professor Fang Xin smiled helplessly. This stubborn Tibetan student was also the best he had ever trained.
In the extended Mercedes-Benz business car, Zhuo Mu Qiangba opened the box containing the scriptures again. Looking at the photos, Fang Xin said, "Our first issue is that we have too few clues. The only things that can guide us are these two photos. And..." He glanced at Zhuo Mu Qiangba and continued seriously, "I still can't be certain about the photos' authenticity."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba smiled slightly, "Don't worry, Mentor. After hearing Tang Ming's story, I immediately contacted some friends on the Tibetan border. They've already gone to Menghe to investigate. There is indeed a ragged middle-aged man there who behaves erratically. It's said that the man has been in Menghe for nearly a year now. During the day, he survives by begging and scavenging for food, and at night, he hides in an abandoned shack. From the date on the photos, Tang Tao went there in May, and Menghe is a small place with few people. Unless something unexpected happened, the madman Tang Tao mentioned should be the same one known as the madman of Menghe. If Tang Tao could get information from him, why couldn't we?"
Fang Xin gave Zhuo Mu Qiangba a thoughtful look and smiled, "It seems you were fully prepared and just waiting to convince me to go along." Zhuo Mu Qiangba grinned sheepishly. Fang Xin quickly shook his head, "Still, it's not that simple. There are several important issues. First, we need to confirm whether this madman is indeed the one Tang Tao mentioned. Second, even if he is, he's a madman and not of sound mind. Even if we find him, he might not be able to repeat what he told Tang Tao. Moreover, we don't even know how or under what circumstances Tang Tao encountered this madman. Did he deliberately seek him out, or was it a chance encounter? If it was intentional, what information did he have beforehand? We are entirely in the dark. Without more thorough preparation, this trip to Menghe might be a waste of time."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba frowned, thinking that the mentor's points were very valid, and quickly asked, "Then, what else can we do? Should I fly to the US again?"
"No!" Fang Xin waved his hand and said, "If Tang Tao's condition hasn't improved significantly, going again would be pointless. Do you still have contact with Tang Ming? A phone call should clarify things."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba quickly took out his phone and made a call. After a while, he hung up, his face more solemn, shaking his head, "No change in his condition. What should we do now?"
Fang Xin let out a deep breath and skillfully opened his laptop, saying, "Now, we need the help of friends. I'll send the photos to my friends at the Beijing Meteorological Station."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba was puzzled, "The Beijing Meteorological Station?"
Pointing at the photos, Fang Xin explained in a very professional manner, "Looking at the blurry plants in the photos, we have some clues. These plants are respectively Juniper, Ephedra, and Mei Flower, which are near the photographer. This Juniper grows at an altitude of three thousand to four thousand meters, found in places like Juzhi and Xunhua in Qinghai, thriving on sunny slopes; Ephedra grows between two thousand and four thousand six hundred meters, commonly found across the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, also favoring sunny slopes, growing in crevices, gravel, and forest edges; Mei Flower is even more widespread, found in meadows and hillsides. These suggest that the photographer was facing east. Tibet and Qinghai are both in the west. The date on the photo is May, the third day after the summer solstice. The sun rises in the east, crosses near the Tropic of Cancer, and from the shadow cast by the setting sun, assuming this Juniper is vertical, we can calculate the sun's angle of elevation from the shadow's tilt. By comparing this with the sun's angle of elevation at the Tropic of Cancer, we can deduce an approximate latitude. Digital cameras like this are mostly set to Beijing time, so it would have been 5:12 PM Beijing time. Since we already know the altitude range, we can also estimate the longitude by comparing the shadow tilt at the time with the tilt in Beijing. This way, we can get an approximate range of coordinates, which is better than searching blindly."
After sending the signal, Fang Xin clicked on his computer, saying, "It's done. They have sent over the comparison imaging from Beijing, based on the light and shadow analysis." Zhuo Mu Qiangba leaned over, seeing a world map on the computer with a long vertical strip highlighted in orange, marked differently from the surrounding areas. There were many empty areas in the middle of the strip, and numerical data was displayed at the bottom of the computer screen, indicating that their photo comparison analysis placed the geographical location between 90.2°E to 104.5°E at the top and 86.5°E to 91.5°E at the bottom; the latitude range was between 26°N and 37°N. Zhuo Mu Qiangba exclaimed happily, "Is it within this range? That's great! I didn't know the meteorological station had this capability."
Fang Xin looked at it and shook his head with a bitter smile, "Heh, this range is too broad. Look, this narrow curved strip starts in Qinghai, passes through the uninhabited area of Hoh Xil, and its tail crosses the Himalayas, extending abroad, covering Nepal, Sikkim, Bhutan, and other countries. The small uncolored areas in the middle include several high mountains like Mount Everest. With such a large range, how will you search? Their longitude markers are decent, but the latitude, affected by the mountains, cannot be very accurate. I think I'll need to contact my friends at the Geological Survey as well." With that, he sent the photos over the wireless network again. He continued, "Tibet has the most diverse landforms and geological structures in the world. Do you have enough knowledge of your homeland?"
Zhuo Mu Qiangba was taken aback. Other than his knowledge about mastiffs, he realized he didn't have any special understanding of Tibet. Fang Xin, like a professor teaching his student, explained, "The Himalayas stretch from northwest to southeast, forming a southward-bulging arc along the southern edge of the
Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, adjacent to India and the Himalayan countries of Nepal and Bhutan, overlooking the Ganges and Assam Plains of the Indian subcontinent. The northern edge of the plateau, with the Kunlun, Altun, and Qilian Mountains, connects to the Tarim Basin and Hexi Corridor in Central Asia's arid desert zone with a height difference of 4,000 to 5,000 meters. The towering western region includes the Karakoram Range and the Pamir Plateau, bordering Afghanistan and the former Soviet Union's Kashmiri region of western Himalaya. The southeastern part of the plateau connects with Myanmar and China's Yunnan Plateau through the Hengduan Mountains and faces the subtropical, humid Sichuan Basin, known as the 'Land of Abundance.' Its boundaries are controlled by the deep fractures of the Yulong-Longmen Mountains and bordered by the southern and eastern slopes of the Haba Snow Mountain, Daxue Mountain, Jiajin Mountain, Qionglai Mountain, and Minshan Mountain. This is a vast and sacred land, the third pole of the world!" He spoke with eyes full of longing. Professor Fang Xin had visited Tibet seven times, not only for the mastiffs but also for the mountains, the people, and the blue skies and white clouds. Only standing on that vast land of Tibet, breathing in the cool breeze, could one understand how close a person could be to the divine. The ancient reverence for the gods would naturally arise in the heart.
The car sped along, and Zhuo Mu Qiangba's heart was filled with urgency and excitement. He knew that Professor Fang Xin's friends were world-class experts in their respective fields, and their conclusions would be highly precise, far beyond the reach of ordinary researchers. Without the professor's participation, this expedition might indeed have been doomed before it even started, as the professor had said. This was precisely why he had been so eager to invite the professor to join him.
The information returned, and the computer analysis indicated: "Based on the distribution of alpine vegetation in the photos, it is undoubtedly the Tibetan Plateau. The stones show signs of frost erosion, and the surrounding terrain is typical of Quaternary glacial landform relics. The ice caps on the distant mountains suggest that the peaks have an altitude of at least 7,000 meters. Given the coexistence of moisture-loving and drought-resistant vegetation in the nearby areas and the sun's angle of incidence and vegetation inclination at the time, the photo is likely influenced by the westerly wind branches. In conclusion, the geographic location in the photo should be in the central to southeastern part of the Himalayas, possibly crossing the border." The computer highlighted a deeper red area within the orange region sent by the meteorological station, extending from north of Mount Everest to Sikkim and Nepal. Fang Xin clenched his fist and couldn't help but exclaim, "Excellent!"
On the other end, the expert jokingly typed back, "Old Ka! Going into Tibet to catch dogs again? I heard that last time you were there, you froze your 'thing' before coming back. I've always wanted to visit Shanghai to see if it's true."
Professor Fang Xin laughed and replied, "It was a frostbitten toe that got amputated, you old dog..." At this point, the airport was already in sight.
Fang Xin put away his laptop, muttering, "Once we enter Tibet, we won't have wireless internet. However, there's a lot of useful information on the computer. By the way, is the plane flying to Chengdu first?"
Zhuo Mu Qiangba smiled, "No, we're flying directly to Lhasa."
"Oh?" Fang Xin was puzzled, "I thought there was no direct flight to Lhasa at this time?"
Zhuo Mu Qiangba replied, "Because we're going to Lhasa, there's now a direct flight there."
Upon entering the airport, Fang Xin glanced at Zhuo Mu Qiangba, taking a deep breath, "A military charter flight!"
Seeing Fang Xin's surprise, Zhuo Mu Qiangba, somewhat proud, explained, "Yes, from Lhasa, and it didn't cost much."
Fang Xin said, "But military charter flights don't land at Lhasa Airport. There's a dedicated military airport nearby, a bit further from the city."
"What?" Now it was Zhuo Mu Qiangba's turn to be surprised. He said, "I...I didn't know. I've never chartered one before. I thought they all took off and landed at Lhasa Airport." This was a special arrangement he made to please his mentor, but he hadn't been informed that it wouldn't land in Lhasa, which made him anxious.
Fang Xin said, "Don't worry, I'll make a call. I have some connections with the leadership of the Tibetan Military District. The last time I went to Tibet, I flew on their plane, so I know this situation." Zhuo Mu Qiangba quickly responded, "No, no need. We'll just arrange for someone to pick us up then."
Fang Xin replied, "They might not be familiar with the area. Let's just have the airport arrange something for us. This way, we don't have to enter Lhasa. We can head straight south from the airport and decide whether to visit your home first or go to Menghe." He made a call, and although the leader was out of town, he promised Fang Xin that everything would be arranged. Fang Xin didn't realize that since Zhuo Mu Qiangba could secure a military charter, he obviously had strong connections in Tibet. The two boarded the military charter and flew westward from Shanghai, towards the sacred plateau, Tibet.
At a regiment of the military district, the regimental commander Ban Jue Ciren, a local Tibetan with a sturdy build, broad face, and wide mouth, with a pair of fierce eyes under thick eyebrows, had just finished lunch when a soldier came to report that a senior leader had called to inform them that a certain professor would be landing on a special flight A3097 at the military district airport. They would head straight to Menghe from the airport and hoped he could arrange transportation.
Ciren patted his slightly protruding stomach and asked, "When is the plane arriving?"
The soldier replied, "In about twenty minutes or so."
Ciren said to a young officer beside him, "Xiao Zhang, you and Xiao Huang go to the airport and have a look. After all, he's a friend of a senior leader."
Xiao Zhang, whose full name was Zhang Li, had been assigned to the Tibetan Military District for two years and was a valiant fighter, an elite member of the Special Guard Regiment. Standing at 1.76 meters tall, his robust physique was second only to that of the regimental commander Ban Jue Ciren. With a face chiseled like stone and sharp eyes, his personal combat skills and quick thinking were unmatched in the regiment. Zhang Li calculated the time and said, "But it takes at least half an hour to get to the airport from here, especially since it just rained, and the road isn't in good condition."
Ciren replied, "Hey, don't rush. Take your time. If they arrive first, let them wait a bit. It's not that urgent. Fang Xin? The name sounds familiar. What does he study?"
Xiao Huang, the soldier, stopped at the door, suddenly remembering something, and said, "Oh, right, Commander, that special flight is the one we dispatched from here."
"Oh," Ciren frowned and asked, "Who else is on the plane?"
Xiao Huang replied, "The flight crew said it's chartered by a businessman named Zhuo Mu... Zhuo Mu Qiangba?"
"Qiangba! Young Master Qiangba!" Upon hearing this, Ciren jumped up from his bed, hurriedly dressing as he spoke, "Quick, go get the car, head to the airport. We need to arrive before the plane lands."
Xiao Huang glanced at Zhang Li and added, "But it takes about half an hour to reach the airport, and the road isn't good..."
Ciren was already at the door, turned sharply, and declared firmly, "I don't care how you do it, but you must reach the airport within twenty minutes!" His stern gaze sent a chill down Xiao Huang's spine.
Twenty minutes later, when Zhuo Mu Qiangba's plane arrived at the airport, Ciren and his team had been waiting for some time. Zhang Li, puzzled, asked, "Commander, who is this Young Master Qiangba?" Since Ciren referred to him as "Young Master," Zhang Li dared not be disrespectful. Ciren replied, "He is the son of Master Deren. Master Deren is considered the wisest person in southern Tibet, second only to a living Buddha." He glanced at Zhang Li's upright posture and added, "Young Master Qiangba won the Tibetan Kupei wrestling championship twice and is half a head taller than you. While you're the best in our regiment, you might not win against him in hand-to-hand combat."
As the plane landed, the first person to step out was a tall and muscular figure with a stern and resolute face. Wearing a pair of wind goggles and carrying a case in each hand, the wind blowing through his light gray coat accentuated his bulging muscles. Following him was a thin, elderly man with graying hair and sharp, shrewd eyes that instantly marked him as someone extraordinary.
Seeing Zhuo Mu Qiangba, Ciren greeted him with a smile, bowing slightly, "Welcome back, Young Master Qiangba."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba was momentarily taken aback, asking, "And you are—"
Ciren replied, "I am Ban Jue Ciren.
A while ago, I accompanied Master Deren to Mount Kangrinboqê for a pilgrimage. I heard that Young Master Qiangba has been busy with business abroad. I didn't expect you to come back in person."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba smiled warmly, nodding. He was half a head taller than Ciren, standing out in the crowd like a sturdy bull. Fang Xin knew that Deren was Zhuo Mu Qiangba's father, a highly influential figure in southern Tibet, almost like a living Buddha. What he hadn't expected was that Master Deren's influence had extended even to the military district.
Since they were acquaintances, things became easier to handle. Ciren, due to other commitments, had no choice but to have Zhang Li personally accompany Zhuo Mu Qiangba and Professor Fang Xin on their trip to Menghe, praising them continuously along the way and even escorting them several dozen kilometers beyond the military district headquarters.
On the way, a light drizzle began to fall again. The car moved smoothly along the roads of the Shannan area, silent and serene. The mountain roads were narrow, with steep cliffs and deep gorges. As they drove through the canyons, Professor Fang Xin, breathing in the pure air, was immersed in a sense of tranquility, his mind clear and untroubled. A few hours ago, he was still in China's most bustling metropolis, torn between whether or not to pursue the honor of a lifetime. Now, his worries seemed to drift away like the light rain, leaving only a deep spiritual sincerity and a yearning for the primal. Only Tibet, this world's highest plateau, could bring him such a feeling. There were no bustling crowds, no towering skyscrapers here; only purified air and sacred, goddess-like mountains.
Zhuo Mu Qiangba's mood was also affected by this silent world, but his thoughts were different. He hadn't been back in many years. After running around major cities, there was little that could move him apart from the mastiffs. Until recently, when he met someone who stirred his emotions again. Now, returning to his homeland, this place that had nurtured him with butter tea and tsampa, the sky was still vast and boundless, and the air retained its familiar freshness. The distant mountains stood tall like giants, watching over this land for millions of years. It was they who had nourished the lives on this land with their sacred milk. Yet, the land had changed; civilization was taking its giant steps into this last Eden. The civilized people, driven by their longing for Eden, came here, and with them, they brought civilization. This vast Eden was turning into a civilized city. No longer, not easily, would you see the herds of wild yaks and sheep running where the roads hadn't reached; no longer would you see the pilgrims in their robes, carrying their burdens. He remembered giving them food when he was young. They came from all over Tibet, bowing every three steps, prostrating themselves, sometimes for years, covering nearly a thousand kilometers to reach their sacred temple in Lhasa or the holy mountain Kangrinboqê. Some unfortunate souls died in the wilderness along the way. That almost ascetic journey, repeated thousands of times in the same movement, was so pure and unwavering, all just to visit their sacred place once in their lifetime.
As they passed Yamdrok Lake, Zhang Li, who was driving, proudly introduced it to his passengers, "This is the famous Yamdrok Lake in Tibet. In Tibetan, it means Coral Lake. It not only has many branches, like coral, but the lake water also shows different colors, also as beautiful as coral. The local legend says it's..." He stopped abruptly because, through the rearview mirror, he saw that the passengers behind him had already closed their eyes, with their hands clasped in prayer at their chests. They knew better than he did that this was the "eye of the goddess."
They passed Yamdrok Lake and turned west, heading towards the Shigatse region.
Menghe, in local terms, is equivalent to a village unit under the district or township level of a county. A place with such an obscure name would naturally be unknown to outsiders. However, it still spanned six or seven li in width and ten or more li in length, nestled in the mountains with a single street forming a residential area with nearly a hundred households.
The mountain roads were rugged, and by the time Zhuo Mu Qiangba and his party arrived in Menghe, it was nearly dark. After inquiring with local residents, they found the madman of Menghe. Zhang Li, seeing the man with disheveled hair and ragged Tibetan clothes, covered in a sleeveless vest stained with oil and leftover food, a six-armed Buddha hanging on his chest, lying on a blanket equally filthy, couldn't help but wrinkle his brow and keep his distance.
When Fang Xin saw this man, he was taken aback. Firstly, the yellow six-armed Buddha hanging on the man's chest, whether it was copper or gold, was a statue of the thirty-first King Tsampo, with incalculable cultural and historical value. In a Shanghai auction house, such an item would start with a base price in the millions. Secondly, the blanket on the ground, though filthy, still had clear patterns that were recognizable as the scene of Shakyamuni imparting his teachings with the smiling Mahakasyapa beside him, and in the background, the Great Brahma King, Garuda, and Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva were whispering to each other. Fang Xin pondered, "If I'm not mistaken, this must be an exquisite Tangka from before the Song Dynasty, made using embroidery techniques. Such an item is priceless." Moreover, the man's head and waist accessories, though ragged, were not ordinary.
Zhuo Mu Qiangba immediately approached the man without concern for his filth, crouching down to ask, "Have you seen a dog? About this tall, black, with a lion's head, and its eyes are..."
The man, who looked like a beggar, showed no reaction, seemingly ignoring Zhuo Mu Qiangba. He smacked his lips, turned over to face the wall, presenting his back to Zhuo Mu Qiangba, and extended a hand covered in black sticky residue directly in front of him. Zhuo Mu Qiangba quickly took out his wallet, saying, "Do you want money? Alright, how much do you want? Just tell me. Two hundred, is that enough? Here's another hundred!"
He placed the money in the blackened hand, but the man slapped it away and grinned at Zhuo Mu Qiangba, still holding out his hand. Zhuo Mu Qiangba was momentarily stunned, thinking perhaps it wasn't enough, and prepared to take out more money. A passerby commented, "He doesn't recognize money. What's the point of giving him money? He wants food."
Zhuo Mu Qiangba immediately asked Zhang Li to buy some food. With no dedicated snack shop in Menghe, Zhang Li somehow managed to get dozens of tsampa balls made with butter and two pieces of dried beef. Zhuo Mu Qiangba handed a tsampa to the beggar and asked, "Where are you from?" The man did not answer, fearlessly stuffing the tsampa into his mouth, reaching out with his hand again with a silly grin.
Zhuo Mu Qiangba gave him two more and asked, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
The man only ate without answering, smiling whenever he finished. As Zhuo Mu Qiangba was about to give more, Fang Xin grabbed his arm, shaking his head, "This isn't working. He's completely ignoring us. Let's find someone to ask. Has he always been this mad?"
The locals said the madman had always been like this since he arrived, sometimes grabbing people's clothes when he was starving, but no one had ever heard him speak. Zhuo Mu Qiangba felt a chill in his heart. Could it be that the mentor's unfortunate prediction was correct and this man wasn't the madman they were looking for? But then Fang Xin said, "I am ninety percent sure this madman is the one Tang Tao encountered. The question is, how can we get him to talk?"
Zhang Li suggested, "Since it's getting late, why don't we return for now and think of a plan for tomorrow?"
Zhuoma Qiangba also asked, "Professor, how can you be so sure?" They spoke at the same time and didn't hear each other clearly, so Zhuoma Qiangba repeated his question. Fang Xin replied, "This person has many rare items on him. He must come from a place with little contact with the outside world. Otherwise, each of these items would be extremely valuable, not something a madman in a civilized area could possess. He must come from an uncivilized place."
"Ah!" Zhuoma Qiangba hadn't considered this perspective, but Zhang Li was shocked. Did the professor really believe these items, which weren't even fit for use in a restroom, were valuable?
At that moment, the madman saw the tsampa[1] in Zhuoma Qiangba's hand and tried to snatch it when he wasn't given any. Zhuoma Qiangba, not paying attention, instinctively blocked him. With his swift reflexes, Zhuoma Qiangba retracted his hand, lowered his wrist, pressed down on the madman's arm, and with a flip of his palm, grabbed the madman's robe. The madman stepped back, revealing a tattoo on his chest. Zhuoma Qiangba was stunned and shouted, "It's the Goba Tribe! You are from the Goba Tribe!"
The madman took advantage of Zhuoma Qiangba's momentary shock to snatch a few tsampa balls from his hand and ran away. In his surprise, Zhuoma Qiangba forgot to chase after him. Zhang Li, quick to react, grabbed the madman by the vest, but the madman was so strong that, with a ripping sound, the vest tore, and he escaped. Zhang Li looked at Zhuoma Qiangba, unsure whether to pursue, and in the blink of an eye, the madman turned down a narrow alley and disappeared.
Fang Xin, standing below Zhuoma Qiangba, had not seen the madman's chest, but he knew something must have been there and quickly asked, "The Goba Tribe? What was on his chest?"
Zhang Li answered, "Was it a wolf's head?"
Zhuoma Qiangba replied, "No! It wasn't a wolf; it was the Purple Qilin totem."
"What!" Fang Xin couldn't believe his ears. Zhuoma Qiangba said, "I told you before, Professor, don't you remember? The Goba Tribe is further south of our village, the most isolated tribe deep in the uncharted territories. The legend of the Purple Qilin also came from them."
Fang Xin suddenly realized, "Oh, I remember now. You're talking about that primitive tribe that, before the liberation, was still in the era of slash-and-burn agriculture and communal hunting."
Zhuoma Qiangba murmured, "Yes, their settlement is in a place inaccessible by road, beyond mountains over 7,000 meters high. They guard the last stretch of original forest on the plateau, a tribe that lives with wolves. They are fierce and valiant, the best hunters in the plateau's forests. I once planned to seek out that tribe, but my father stopped me. He said—they're untouchable. They are closest to the Zhanmo[2]. Because their ancestors' souls were attached to Zhanmo, bringing plague, death, and disaster. Later, Zhanmo was subdued by the goddess Shri Devi[3] and was punished to remain in the City of Evil Souls. The Castle of Evil Souls 'is located on a red copper plain, surrounded by copper rocks piercing the sky, with red-brown vultures soaring above, the souls of Zhan drifting in the air, venomous snakes climbing, and in the center of the red rocks, a boiling sea of blood.' The Purple Qilin is the divine beast that helped Shri Devi defeat and guard Zhanmo. These distant myths have long been sealed in history, remembered only by my father."
Zhang Li asked, "Now that the man has run away, should we chase him?"
Zhuoma Qiangba nodded firmly, "Yes, we must find this person. It's almost certain he knows something about the Purple Qilin."
Zhang Li had already picked up on some hints from the conversation between Zhuoma Qiangba and Fang Xin, understanding that their elaborate efforts were for something akin to a dog. Seeing the anxious expression on Zhuoma Qiangba's face, he couldn't help but find it amusing. Fang Xin reassured them, "Don't worry, he's been living here for a long time. It shouldn't be too hard to find him."
The three of them got into the car and drove around the area, asking a local for directions. The local pointed them to a road and mumbled, "What's so special about that mad beggar? People keep coming to find him one after another."
"What!" Zhuoma Qiangba and Fang Xin were both surprised and quickly asked, "Just a few days ago, a young girl, about 17 or 18, was also asking about the madman's whereabouts. Do you know her?"
Fang Xin shook his head, but Zhuoma Qiangba's eyes widened as he asked loudly, "A young girl! Did you get a good look at her? Where did she go afterward?"
The man, startled, replied, "I don't know. She was just asking for directions to find someone. How would I know where she went? She wasn't Tibetan."
"You know her?" Fang Xin asked. Seeing Fang Xin and Zhang Li staring at him, Zhuoma Qiangba stammered, "No…no, I just wondered if others might also be searching for the Purple Qilin. If someone else finds it first, that would…that would be bad."
Fang Xin, who knew his student well and his poor ability to lie, looked up at Zhuoma Qiangba and said, "Oh, really?" Zhuoma Qiangba couldn't meet his gaze, his expression awkward and evasive, much like a child caught doing something wrong. Embarrassed, he said, "We should hurry and find that madman. If—if he really leaves, then—"
The three of them arrived at the madman's temporary residence, a fully wooden structure elevated four to five meters above the ground, supported by wooden stilts. The roof was draped with faded prayer flags, and the entrance was painted with symbols of the sun, moon, and auspicious clouds. Flanking the door were white stone towers, and a yak horn was placed in the center. The door wasn't locked. They pushed it open and entered. The interior was empty, with wind blowing through, carrying the pungent smell of urine and decaying food. The three looked around; the ceiling was painted with traditional Tibetan religious murals. A sunlit room served as a shrine, but the Buddhist statues had been removed. The room was thick with dust, and a pile of tattered clothes in one corner seemed to be used as a makeshift bed. None of the four rooms housed anyone. Zhuoma Qiangba and Fang Xin grew increasingly anxious, unsure where the madman had gone, when they heard Zhang Li shout, "He's here!"
Zhuoma Qiangba and Fang Xin hurried to the shrine where Zhang Li was, and Zhang Li opened a window and pointed down to a small alley. There, curled up like a ball, was the madman, so dark he resembled a hedgehog. If one didn't look closely, one wouldn't notice him. The three quickly left the house, circled to the back of the wooden house, with Zhang Li approaching from the left and Zhuoma Qiangba and Professor Fang Xin from the right, cornering the madman in the alley behind the house.
However, they soon realized this was unnecessary. The madman was huddled up, his entire body wrapped in a thick, unknown black blanket, trembling as he tried to bury his head in it. Occasionally, he would peek out, his eyes darting around in fear. The ground reeked with a foul stench; he had wet and soiled himself.
The three were stunned, and following the madman's gaze, they discovered a small furry creature—a four or five-month-old black puppy, still wobbling as it walked. In Tibetan culture, dogs are considered sacred animals. In many areas, dogs are worshipped as deities, and they roam freely in the streets, much like how cows are revered in India. In the sacred city of Lhasa, there was even a time when the streets were overrun with dogs, and their droppings alone were enough to make people tread carefully. Across Tibet, spotting a few wild Tibetan dogs isn't unusual. With a keen eye, one might even spot a good breed or even a Tibetan mastiff.
But this little dog before them, as Zhuoma Qiangba and Fang Xin could both tell, was just an ordinary stray. Given its current size and clumsy gait, it posed no threat to an adult. They were truly baffled as to why the madman was so terrified of such a small creature. The puppy was also foraging for food; it naturally approached the tsampa that had fallen to the ground. The madman's eyes bulged in fear, his voice rasping, as if worried the puppy would come any closer, at which point he might faint. Zhuoma Qiangba stepped forward, his large hand gently resting on the puppy's neck, preventing it from moving forward.
The madman screamed frantically, "Go away! Go away! Take it away! Quickly, take it away!" He spoke in a southern Tibetan dialect that few could understand, but fortunately, Zhuoma Qiangba was from that region.
Zhuoma Qiangba smiled slightly, lifted the puppy, and waved it in front of the madman's face, "What's this? Found your tongue?"
The madman's chest heaved, his eyes refusing to look at Zhuoma Qiangba's hand, pleading, "Take it away, quickly! I beg you."
Fang Xin used his hand to block the puppy and said to Zhuoma Qiangba, "It seems he's genuinely terrified of this animal. Don't scare him to death."
Zhuoma Qiangba tossed the puppy to Zhang Li behind him and then asked, "I'm asking you, are you from the Goba Tribe? Where is your village? Why are you alone here?"
The madman stared at the puppy in Zhang Li's hands, his eyes filled with both extreme fear and intense hatred. His teeth chattered as if he was clenching them tightly, saying, "They're dead! It came, and they all died!"
Though Fang Xin didn't understand what the madman was saying, he noticed that the madman's left ear was missing a chunk. The wound had long since healed, but the scar suggested it might have been bitten by a dog.
Zhuoma Qiangba frowned and asked, "What do you mean, dead? Be more specific."
The madman drooled from the corner of his mouth, his eyes vacant, murmuring, "All the sheep were bitten to death!" He seemed to be recalling something, a look of fear mixed with indifference to death.
Seeing this cold, emotionless gaze, Zhuoma Qiangba felt a chill. Why such a cold look, as if life had never existed? He seemed to sense something. He grabbed the madman's shoulders and shook him, asking, "What about the people? What about the people in the village?"
The madman's face showed a strange smile, calm as he said, "All the people were bitten to death!"
Zhuoma Qiangba had prepared himself mentally but still felt his heart race. What exactly had happened in the Goba people's village? The sole survivor had gone mad; what had he witnessed? If he had shown extreme fear, they might still have comforted him, but he displayed this indifference. The lives of an entire village seemed like ants crushed underfoot to him. This cold demeanor sent chills down Zhuoma Qiangba's spine. The madman suddenly began to sing, in what sounded like a ritualistic chant in Sanskrit, "The blood of the apostate devil stains red, the divine light fades away, the sacred beast guarding the Four Gates awakens…"
Zhang Li, watching the madman cry, laugh, mutter, and sing, was puzzled and mumbled, "What is this madman doing?" Fang Xin quickly motioned for silence, indicating Zhang Li shouldn't speak.
While Fang Xin understood Tibetan, he couldn't grasp this local dialect, but he saw from Zhuoma Qiangba's expression that he did understand what the madman was saying.
After about half an hour, Zhuoma Qiangba finally stood up, his expression solemn. The madman continued his erratic singing and crying. Fang Xin asked with concern, "How did it go?"
Zhuoma Qiangba opened his mouth but realized he was too tense to speak. He swallowed hard and, after a while, hoarsely said, "The Purple Qilin is probably near their village, but… but I don't know what happened. It seems everyone in the village is dead, except for him—"
Fang Xin abruptly interrupted, "By the Purple Qilin—" then fell silent.
Zhuoma Qiangba shook his head, "I don't know. He didn't say directly, but that's my guess. Professor, do you know about the Four Temples?"
Fang Xin was taken aback. He knew a fair amount about Tibetan culture but hadn't heard of the Four Temples. Zhuoma Qiangba had learned much from his father that was not recorded in official Tibetan history. Zhang Li, of course, had no clue.
Zhuoma Qiangba slowly explained, "According to the 33rd King Trisong Detsen's revival of Buddhism, Lhasa is the sacred center, surrounded by the four great holy mountains: Kangrinboqe, Mardo, Gongbu, and Nyenchen Tanglha, which form a hand holding this jewel in its palm. The Jokhang Temple is in the old town center as the 'Central Temple.' To the east is the oldest Samye Monastery, to the north is Drak Yerpa Hermitage, to the west is Pabongka, and to the south is Sakya Monastery. These four are called the Four Temples."
When Zhuoma Qiangba said this, Fang Xin immediately understood and continued, "I get it now. This is the Four Holy Temples later passed down by the Bon and Tantric traditions. When I first heard this, I was surprised. The Bon religion is native to Tibet, inherently opposed to Buddhism. Why would Buddhist holy temples be propagated through Bon? Moreover, among these four temples, the Jokhang Temple and Pabongka were built during Songtsen Gampo's reign, Samye and Sakya were built over a hundred years later, and Drak Yerpa another two hundred years after that, in the post-imperial revival of Buddhism. These temples aren't even contemporaneous. How could they be considered the Four Temples?"
A trace of unease flashed in Zhuoma Qiangba's eyes as he looked at the dimming sky and murmured, "I'm not sure either. Maybe, my father knows. It's time to go home."
Fang Xin gently patted Zhuoma Qiangba on the shoulder and kindly said, "Go home. It's always good to go home. Your mother is waiting for you."
The madman danced back to his dilapidated dwelling. Seeing that Zhuoma Qiangba seemed to have obtained the information he wanted, none of them stopped him.
In fact, Zhuoma Qiangba still had many questions in his heart, but he knew that even if he asked, he wouldn't get more from the madman. Watching the madman's receding figure, he sighed, "Let's go."
Zhang Li looked at the sky and suggested, "It's already late. Why not rest here for the night and leave tomorrow?"
Zhuoma Qiangba replied, "No, we need to go back tonight." Fang Xin nodded, indicating Zhang Li to start the car.
Fang Xin could read the look in Zhuoma Qiangba's eyes—one of reverence. Zhuoma Qiangba was afraid of his father. Elder Derun wasn't taller than Zhuoma Qiangba, wasn't as burly, and was much older. In every way—physical and mental—he couldn't match Zhuoma Qiangba, yet Zhuoma Qiangba feared him. In front of his father, Zhuoma Qiangba always felt like a child who had done something wrong, needing to be cautious in everything he did. If he made even the slightest mistake, Elder Derun didn't have to scold him; Zhuoma Qiangba would already be trembling with fear. Even hearing his father's cough made his heart race and his hair stand on end. This was because Elder Derun was a great sage in the south, and the Zhuoma family was a traditional southern aristocracy with many strict family rules.
Every time he returned home, Zhuoma Qiangba always hoped his father was away so he could be alone with his mother and feel safe. Especially in recent years, the things Zhuoma Qiangba had been doing were not approved of by his father. In Elder Derun's eyes, dogs were friends of humans, divine beings sent from the heavens to save and help people. Their status was equal to or even higher than that of humans, and they deserved to be worshiped with divine dog statues on the altar. However, what was Zhuoma Qiangba doing? He was catching dogs, locking them in small cages, and selling them for money. Because of this, every time Zhuoma Qiangba returned home, he would be severely scolded by his father. According to family rules, when his father reprimanded him, Zhuoma Qiangba had to kneel on the ground with his head lowered. His father forbade him to speak, and he couldn't defend himself.
But this time was different. Professor Fang Xin was here. Elder Derun had a good impression of Professor Fang Xin. The two were of the same age, had similar personalities, and respected each other's knowledge. When they first met, they talked as if they were old friends of many years. Professor Fang Xin had conducted extensive academic research in Tibetan Buddhism, Tibetan sacred sites, and Tibetan history, much of which came from Elder Derun's teachings while studying Tibetan mastiffs.
Following Zhuoma Qiangba's directions, Zhang Li drove for nearly two hours before finally arriving at Dawanu Lake, by which time it was completely dark. After parking the car, the three entered Zhuoma Qiangba's home, a typical Tibetan-style manor. As they entered the courtyard, they saw an old Tibetan man cleaning the courtyard, surrounded by candlelight. Zhuoma Qiangba warmly called out, "Laba Aku!"
The old Tibetan man looked up with somewhat cloudy eyes and, upon recognizing Zhuoma Qiangba, exclaimed excitedly, "Young master? Qiangba? You've finally come back. I've missed you so much. Go and see your mother; she misses you too. I'll go notify the master." He put down his broom and hurried towards the shrine.
Zhuoma Qiangba's expression changed, showing a hint of helplessness as he muttered, "Father is home, huh? Professor, Captain Zhang, please wait here while I go see my mother."
Zhang Li looked around and then at the lamps on the courtyard walls, wondering, "Why are they cleaning the courtyard after dark?"
Fang Xin explained, "During the day, this courtyard is always crowded with people who come to listen to the sage's teachings. Even your regiment commander waited here for a blessing."
Zhang Li noticed that the direction Zhuoma Qiangba was heading differed from where the old Tibetan man, Laba, had gone. Curious, he asked, "Aren't the young master's mother and father together?"
Fang Xin replied, "That's their family rule. Even close relatives like a wife or son must inform Elder Derun before they can meet him. Only with his permission can they enter."
"Ah!" Zhang Li exclaimed in surprise. "What kind of rule is that?"
Fang Xin explained in terms he could understand, "It's to emphasize the sage's extraordinary status. That's why Elder Derun is considered akin to a living Buddha in the south."
Zhang Li remarked, "It seems like the young master is a bit afraid of his father."
Fang Xin chuckled, "It's not just a bit; he's very afraid. Growing up under such strict family rules, someone with Zhuoma Qiangba's personality was bound to make mistakes. When he did, he faced severe punishment. Even after healing, he always had lingering fear. Just hearing his father cough would make his heart race and his hair stand on end."
Zhang Li murmured, "Could Elder Derun be even more formidable than the young master?" Imagining Zhuoma Qiangba's physique, he pictured Elder Derun's appearance in his mind.
Fang Xin replied, "No, Elder Derun isn't taller than Zhuoma Qiangba. He's just an old man like me."
"So why is the young master still so afraid?" Zhang Li was still puzzled.
Fang Xin explained, "It's a kind of authority, an aura filled with wisdom that's hard to describe in words. If you have the chance to meet Elder Derun in person, you'll understand."
At that moment, Zhuoma Qiangba returned, accompanied by a middle-aged Tibetan woman. She looked like any hardworking Tibetan woman, wearing a headscarf and a traditional robe, her face slightly lined but with a smile. She clung to Zhuoma Qiangba, who was a head taller than her. In that instant, Zhang Li felt a jolt in his heart. What is happiness? He could clearly read it on the face of that middle-aged Tibetan woman.
Holding the woman's hand, Zhuoma Qiangba pointed from a distance at Fang Xin and said, "Mother, that's him!"
The woman joyfully exclaimed, "Ah, Fang Xin Tashi! Tashi Delek!"
Fang Xin responded, "Tashi Delek, Madam Meido. It's good to see you."
They conversed in Tibetan, leaving Zhang Li standing there without understanding a word. Seeing his awkwardness, Zhuoma Qiangba explained, "My mother doesn't speak Chinese." Later, hearing Aunt Meido say, "Please, come in and have a seat," Zhuoma Qiangba added, "Mother invites you inside."
The three of them entered a side hall and sat cross-legged. Meido served them brick tea, and Fang Xin accepted it with both hands, with Zhang Li following suit.
Zhuoma, Fang Xin, and Meido chatted happily. Zhang Li glanced around the room, which retained the traditional features of old Tibetan homes—simple in structure but ornately decorated. The yellow-golden walls were brightly illuminated by the flickering lights. Above the hearth, the walls were adorned with eight auspicious symbols, and the rest of the walls were covered with paintings of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. The ceiling also featured various Buddhist deities. The entire room's walls could truly be described as resplendent. Elaborately carved gilded furniture, including the altar table and a small shrine with large engraved scriptures, as well as a low table in the center, all displayed the owner's wealth. The floor was covered with a Tibetan carpet woven with scenes of Buddhist teachings and sermons. However, unlike other Tibetan homes Zhang Li had seen, this room lacked a sofa or a television or any modern living amenities.
Fang Xin noticed Zhang Li's head turning and warned him softly, "Don't look around too much; it's considered impolite."
After a while, the old Tibetan man named Laba entered the room. He greeted Meido in Tibetan and then said to Zhuoma Qiangba, "Young master Qiangba, the master wants to see you."
Zhuoma Qiangba stuck out his tongue at his mother and made a face that clearly said, "I'm going to get scolded again." His mother spoke a few comforting words, and Zhuoma reluctantly left the room.
Not long after, a deep voice could be heard from outside the door, speaking in clear Mandarin, "Professor Fang Xin, this child Qiangba has been very rude, not informing me in advance, making you wait so long."
Fang Xin quickly stood up and replied from inside, "Elder Derun, it's been a long time. I've missed you."
Zhang Li realized that Elder Derun had arrived. He turned to see an elderly man, slightly plump but still vigorous, standing at the door. Elder Derun was clean-shaven, and in terms of appearance, he and Zhuoma Qiangba were almost like replicas, though his face was a bit broader, his expression kind but with an inherent dignity that made him both approachable and respectable.
Elder Derun embraced Fang Xin and then sat to the left of the hearth, with Fang Xin beside him, Zhuoma Qiangba next to Fang Xin, Zhang Li in a lower seat, Meido to the right, and Laba standing to the side.
Elder Derun's voice was calm but carried an undeniable authority. He said softly, "I've heard about the person you found. Perhaps it's fate; the Goba Tribe was destined to receive divine punishment sooner or later, something decided thousands of years ago."
Professor Fang Xin asked, "Oh, did Elder Derun foresee the fate of the Goba Tribe?" His question was asked sincerely, without any hint of sarcasm, because Fang Xin knew that many matters were beyond ordinary people's comprehension when it came to this sage.
Elder Derun replied, "The words the madman mumbled, Qiangba remembered some of them and recited them to me. They were part of the Buddhist canon, a ritual for subduing demons—The Incantation of Achala!" [4]
"Ah!" Fang Xin had considered that the strange dialect might be some kind of ritual chant, but he hadn't expected it to be the Incantation of Achala. The three great exorcism mantras of the Buddhist canon—The Incantation of Achala, the Great Compassion Mantra, and the Six-Syllable Mantra—are considered the highest rituals in Buddhism, requiring advanced monks to practice with a serene mind. They are symbols of faith, status, and identity, not something a madman would typically know. But how did the madman come to know this? Fang Xin was puzzled, and it showed on his face.
Annotation: "Uncivilized" in this context refers to regions that are less developed in terms of interaction with the broader world, rather than implying a lack of culture or humanity. ↩
Master De Ren noticed the confusion in Professor Fang Xin's expression and explained, "According to our ancestral scriptures, the 'Prajna Paramita Heart Sutra,' [5] the Gobba tribe[6] has been tainted by darkness, reduced to the slaves of the great demon Zhanmo. They were punished by Jixiang Tianmu[7] and left to guard the City of Demons. While this may seem like mythological folklore meant to impart wisdom, the true role of the Gobba tribe is that of the guardians of the Four Sacred Temples, particularly the last temple in the extreme south. The rituals and ceremonies in their village have been passed down through generations. They are the only people who know the entrance to the southernmost sacred temple, but their strict religious code forbids anyone from their village to approach it. As for the 'Acala Mantra,' [8] it is inscribed on the guardian beast statue in front of the temple."
Professor Fang asked, "But does the Four Sacred Temples actually exist? Based on the information I've seen, the temples are not symmetrically located, and they were built over different periods. It seems unlikely that they could be grouped together."
Master De Ren smiled, pointing to his forehead with his left hand and then forming a mudra over his chest, suggesting that Professor Fang was a man of great wisdom. He continued, "What is now referred to as the Four Sacred Temples is a vague concept derived from later interpretations of ancient poetry and historical texts. Only the teachings of the ancient Nyingma school[11] still retain this term. Later schools such as the Kagyu and Sakya have abandoned this concept as untraceable. According to Nyingma teachings, the origin of the Four Sacred Temples comes from the Tibetan Bon religion, which is why it is not accepted by other sects. In truth, the Four Temples that our ancestors spoke of were four monasteries placed at the four corners of the holy mountains by the Great Dharma King during his initial propagation of the teachings. These were not located in the extreme east, west, south, or north but at the bends of the swastika in Buddhist symbolism. They are the Jokhang Temple, in the northwest; Pabonka, in the southwest; Gyaye Monastery, in the northeast; and the Tsuglagkhang, in the southeast. The Gobba tribe has been the guardians of this sacred tradition for generations."
Hearing this, Professor Fang was even more puzzled, thinking to himself, "Gyaye Monastery? Isn't it supposed to be Samye Monastery? And what is Tsuglagkhang? Where is it located?" He glanced at Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba, who was also frowning, evidently trying to recall something from memory.
Even the servant named Laba looked puzzled by the names of these temples mentioned by Master De Ren, indicating that this was something De Ren had never discussed before. Only Zhang Li remained uninterested, as he had only been in Tibet for a short time and knew little about Tibetan history and cultural relics. He was more focused on Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba's mother, Aunt Meiduo. This kind-hearted older woman kept her eyes on her tall son, her face radiating a serene smile. It was a look of contentment, showing clearly that she was very satisfied with her current life. For some reason, Zhang Li always saw a resemblance to his mother in Aunt Meiduo's face. His mother, who worked tirelessly in the countryside, had a face similarly marked by early wrinkles. Her smile, too, was filled with happiness and peace. Zhang Li hadn't been home in two years. He had stayed in this harsh plateau out of duty, knowing that his mother missed him dearly from afar, just as he missed her. But he persisted, not just because of a grand sense of national duty but also because if he completed his assignment at the Tibetan border, he could receive a substantial special allowance of 200,000 yuan. With that money, he could buy an apartment in the city for his mother and family, which was his greatest and most urgent wish.
At this point, Professor Fang Xin had already voiced the questions that were on his mind. Master De Ren straightened the hem of his Tibetan robe to make it more neat and orderly, and then began to explain patiently, "This is a secret. If I hadn't fully memorized the 'Prajna Paramita Heart Sutra' from a young age and comprehended its full meaning, I wouldn't be able to tell you this answer." Professor Fang knew that the 'Prajna Paramita Heart Sutra' was a family heirloom of the Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba family, an ancient scripture stored in the Potala Palace.
Master De Ren sat up even straighter, and his demeanor became more solemn. His presence influenced everyone around him, creating a serious atmosphere. He continued, "This matter is related to the great catastrophe of the extinction of the Dharma after the Buddha's passing." Fang, Zhuo, and Laba all gasped slightly, each wearing a different expression but all having a vague idea of what he meant. Indeed, Master De Ren continued, "Tibetan Buddhism had gradually flourished under the propagation of successive Dharma Kings, but during the reign of the 42nd King, things took a different turn, leading to a great suppression of Buddhism. The 42nd Tibetan King, Langdarma, [9] upon ascending the throne, embarked on a campaign to eradicate Buddhism, banning the translation of Buddhist texts, dismantling monasteries, and destroying statues and scriptures, killing monks in the process. Tibetan Buddhism thus entered a dark period. Langdarma's suppression of Buddhism had a karmic cause. It is said that during the construction of the stupa at Boudhanath[10] in Nepal, three brothers who built it made a dedication at its completion. Due to their different vows, they later reincarnated as Trisong Detsen, Padmasambhava, and Shantarakshita. However, they accidentally forgot to dedicate merit for the oxen that had labored so hard, which bore resentment and vowed to obstruct their propagation of the Dharma. Hence, Langdarma was born with horns on his head, resembling those of an ox. The word 'Lang' means 'ox,' and 'darma' means 'transmission,' implying the ox's reincarnation."
At this moment, Zhang Li was also captivated by Master De Ren's words, learning for the first time that Tibetan Buddhism had undergone such a dark era. Professor Fang, however, nodded subtly. He had heard stories about the 42nd Tibetan King's suppression of Buddhism and his background, but he did not know the complete story of the ox's reincarnation that Master De Ren had recounted.
Master De Ren continued, "Because of Langdarma, Tibetan Buddhism was divided into the early and later propagation periods. During the early propagation period, there was no distinction between different schools of Tibetan Buddhism—only disputes over the original texts of the Buddha. It was due to this suppression and subsequent transmission that today's branches of Tibetan Buddhism emerged." Master De Ren looked at the eager faces around him and smiled gently, saying, "Don't be anxious; I will now tell you about the Four Sacred Temples. The story begins with their construction. The Great Dharma King, Songtsen Gampo, in his efforts to enlighten the people, sought the Dharma far and wide, sending emissaries to the three countries where Buddhism was most flourishing at the time—India, Nepal, and the Tang Dynasty. He also arranged marriages to show goodwill. Eventually, Princess Bhrikuti from Nepal and Princess Wencheng from Tang China were married to Tibet, while Princess Rongzhen from India, due to the long journey, fell ill and died halfway. However, her entourage still made it to Tibet. The three princesses brought with them a large number of Buddhist texts, relics, and all manner of ritual implements and instruments. More importantly, they also brought three life-sized statues of the Buddha, the only ones of their kind. Due to Princess Rongzhen's untimely death, the statue of the Buddha at 25 was returned to India, but the statues of the Buddha at ages 8 and 12 remained in Tibet, housed in what would later become the Jokhang and Ramoche Temples." [13]
Zhang Li seemed to recall something and interjected, "Ah, I remember now! Yes, I even visited the Jokhang Temple to see the statue."
Master De Ren gently shook his head, "That statue was a later reconstruction by monks to promote Buddhism. According to ancient records, the original life-sized statues of the Buddha were made of solid gold. When they were brought to Tibet, just the statue of the Buddha at age 8 required eighteen oxen to transport. To tell you the truth, the true life-sized statues were lost in the sands of time long ago. You can imagine, given the extraordinary value of these life-sized statues, none of the artifacts brought to Tibet alongside them were ordinary. They were the most sacred and revered objects in Tibet at the time. Besides the Jokhang and Ramoche Temples, three additional monasteries had to be built to house all the Buddha's relics. When Langdarma decided to suppress Buddhism, he was well aware that these monasteries were not like ordinary ones; they contained countless treasures. Fortunately, the monks of these monasteries received advance warning, and by the time Langdarma arrived with his soldiers, the relics had already been moved to other places and buried deep within the rock layers, which became known as the rock treasures. The monks refused to reveal the location of these sacred objects, even under the threat of death, so in his fury, Langdarma set fire to the Four Sacred Temples!"
"What!" Even Professor Fang Xin's mouth dropped open in shock, "They... were burned! Then now..."
Master De Ren solemnly nodded, "Yes, the temples you see today are all later reconstructions. According to the scriptures, the only surviving branches of Buddhism were those of the secularized Nyingma ancient school and the teachings of Ma, Yao, and Tsang, who fled to the Kham region and continued to propagate the faith. Ma Shakyamuni of Gamba Qiangtang, Yao Gewen from Luozhuo, and Tsang Rouse from Jiaqie practiced in the auspicious Chuwo Ri mountain. Later, the three disguised themselves as beggars, carrying the Vinaya Sutra on a single mule to foreign lands. The beginning of the later propagation period is closely related to these three. The Nyingma practitioners, following the example of these three, disguised themselves as beggars and used a skinny mule to transport the vast number of relics in small batches, moving the rock treasures[12] and sacred objects at the edge of the holy land to a safer place."
"Where...where exactly?" Professor Fang Xin couldn't suppress his excitement. Seeing Master De Ren pause slightly, he immediately asked.
Master De Ren shook his head, "The scriptures do not provide a detailed account. They only mention that it is a place where you cannot see the sun rise in the east or set in the west, yet it is bathed in sunlight all year round. A group of eternally loyal souls guards that place."
Professor Fang Xin looked utterly disappointed. He had hoped to hear from Master De Ren a definitive answer, that the place they were searching for was indeed located in the remote uninhabited area west of the Gobba village. But Master De Ren only provided such an ambiguous answer. Then he said, "However, I strongly suspect that what the Gobba people are guarding are those scriptures and ritual objects." Professor Fang Xin's emotions were immediately stirred again, and even Zhang Li couldn't help but feel his palms start to sweat.
As the emotions of Fang and Zhang rose and fell with Master De Ren's story, Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba just sat there, expressionless, unaffected, because his father had not mentioned any clues about the purple qilin. Apart from the purple qilin, he had little interest in anything else. He had no idea that what his father said carried significant implications for Tibetan history and the entire field of Buddhist studies, which would cause a tsunami of repercussions!
Professor Fang Xin continued to ask some detailed questions about Tibetan Buddhist history and possible clues regarding the Four Sacred Temples. Master De Ren answered each one with references from the scriptures, and for parts that were unclear, he would recite the original text for them to discuss together. Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba played the role of a respectful listener. The only relief he felt was that his father seemed so engrossed in what appeared to be an important discovery that he forgot to ask about the purpose of their trip to Tibet.
Time flew by, and Old Laba prepared steaming butter tea and made dinner again for the three guests. Aunt Meiduo arranged rooms for the two guests, and after dinner, Professor Fang Xin continued his discussion with Master De Ren in his room until very late. Just as the professor stepped into the courtyard, he noticed Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba standing there, staring at the ground, deep in thought. Professor Fang Xin was surprised, "Qiang Ba, are you waiting for me?"
Only then did Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba look up and notice Professor Fang Xin. He quickly asked, "So, did my dad ask anything?"
Professor Fang Xin smiled, "Don't worry, Master De Ren didn't ask about the purpose of our trip. He was more interested in discussing with me the possible whereabouts of those ancient lost scriptures. With his wisdom, he has already transcended worldly desires and the dual concepts of greed and hatred. He just wanted me to tell you that if you could find those lost scriptures, it would be a great contribution to the country and the Tibetan people."
Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba muttered, "I don't need money, and those scriptures have nothing to do with the purple qilin."
Professor Fang Xin grabbed Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba's broad shoulders and said excitedly, "Qiang Ba, my dear student! You still don't understand. The madman we're talking about might involve more than just a purple qilin; he could change the entire history of Tibet, maybe even alter thousands of years of Buddhist history. If everything aligns with the scriptures, then our path ahead leads to a historical and cultural treasure trove. Its value cannot be measured in gold. The Egyptian pyramids, the pharaohs' tombs, the Mayan ruins, the Greek temples, and what we might discover could be on par with, or even surpass, these traces of ancient civilizations. Do you understand its significance now? Thank you, Qiang Ba."
Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba was still somewhat bewildered. Caught off guard by Professor Fang Xin's gratitude, he asked, "Huh? Why thank me, Professor?"
Professor Fang Xin laughed, "If it weren't for you, I would still be preparing my lecture for the Massuria Forum. You made me feel unprecedented excitement and—thrill!" The professor's expression was so animated it seemed as if the treasure trove had already been discovered. At this moment, none of them could have imagined that events would unfold in a completely different direction.
Professor Fang Xin was visibly excited for a while before finally calming down. Once he regained his composure, his thoughts became meticulous again. He turned to Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba and asked, "By the way, Qiang Ba, is there something you're hiding from me?"
Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba hadn't expected the professor to ask so directly and stammered, "Wha... what?"
Professor Fang Xin chuckled, "You're my student, and I can always tell when you're hiding something. Today, when we were searching for that madman and you heard about a girl asking for him, your behavior was quite unusual. You've been distracted ever since. What's going on? Qiang Ba, my boy, is there something you find difficult to say?"
Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba's face, unusually for him, flushed slightly. Fortunately, the moonlight made it hard to notice. He muttered, "Professor, there's... there's something I didn't tell you honestly."
Professor Fang Xin slightly retracted his smile, "What is it?"
Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba replied, "Well, that, that Tang Ming, she's... she's a woman. Her name is Tang Min." After saying this, he lowered his head like a child who had done something wrong, recalling the days spent with Tang Min in Pennsylvania, USA.
At forty-two, Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba had experienced a failed marriage. He was too domineering, and his wife always felt pressured by him, an invisible pressure that came from his tall, muscular build, his stern, steel-like face, and his resolute and efficient way of doing things. It was an unrelenting pressure that even his employees whispered about: "Working in the same office as Mr. Zhuo is so stressful you can hardly breathe."
Ever since his wife left with their daughter, Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba had thrown himself entirely into his work, thinking he might spend his life like this—until Tang Min appeared before him, a pure young girl standing daintily at the entrance of André Hospital. From the first glance, she seemed like a little princess who needed protection. Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba never expected his feelings would be stirred by her, for a girl only three years older than his daughter. During the month they spent together in the United States, he couldn't suppress his emotions and began to interact with Tang Min frequently. The more they interacted, the more he realized that this pure little princess truly needed his protection. Her intelligence, her quirky charm, her cheerful and lively nature brought endless joy to Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba's otherwise dull life. He couldn't quite describe his feelings for Tang Min—whether it was a father's love for a daughter or a lover's affection, or perhaps both. But he was certain that he couldn't live without Tang Min, just as she couldn't live without him. Their meeting seemed like two raindrops that had traveled through the vast cosmos for millions of years, finally merging back into one, inseparable. His passion for Tang Min was uncontrollable, even beyond his ability to rationalize, to the point where he felt the need to hide Tang Min's gender when he first met Professor Fang Xin. He suddenly felt that this elderly professor, still vibrant and wise, might be a potential rival, especially since he knew that Professor Fang Xin lived alone!
Professor Fang Xin had been widowed in middle age and never remarried. His son was pursuing his doctorate in Canada. In that moment of hesitation, Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba imagined Professor Fang Xin as a rival for Tang Min's affection, leading him to tell a small lie for an absurd reason.
And on Menghe Street, when the local mentioned a young girl, Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba immediately realized that Tang Min had come and was also searching for the madman. How could he not be flustered? Before their departure, he had sweet-talked, threatened, and even scared Tang Min, forbidding her from coming to Tibet. He knew that the path Tang Min's brother had taken was more than just dangerous—it was a potential life-and-death gamble. How could he let his precious sweetheart endure such hardships? He had even taken out a substantial insurance policy, naming Tang Min as the beneficiary. Tang Min's unexpected arrival had completely disrupted Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba's plans.
After hearing Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba's confession, Professor Fang Xin smiled again and said, "Wow, you even imagined your teacher as a romantic rival. Even an old man like me still has some charm, eh?"
Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba replied sincerely, "Your wisdom, Professor, keeps you forever young."
Professor Fang Xin laughed, "Alright, it's not certain that the girl is your sweetheart, so there's no need to be too nervous. Get some rest; tomorrow we will visit the madman in Menghe again. He must have more valuable information to offer. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow, you'll meet your dream girl. Haha—" Watching Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba relax and return to his room, Professor Fang Xin's face gradually became serious again. He thought to himself, "Qiang Ba, if that girl isn't your sweetheart, that's when we should really worry."
The next day, Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba got up early, and after paying his respects to his parents, he didn't even bother with breakfast. Grabbing a few pieces of zanba and dried cheese, he asked Zhang Li to drive to Menghe.
In the car, apart from Zhang Li, the other two were filled with anxiety, each hoping to reach Menghe as quickly as possible for different reasons. As soon as they arrived, they ran into the same local man who had directed them the previous day. Zhang Li rolled down the car window and greeted him. The man's response left all three stunned: "Oh, it's you again. Are you here to find that madman? I thought you were the ones who picked him up this morning!"
"What! Picked up!" Zhuo Mu Qiang Ba shouted.
The local man said, "Yes, they took him away in a car, didn't they?"
Professor Fang asked, "When did they take him? Who were they? What kind of car were they driving?"
The man replied, "Around seven this morning. I didn't get a good look, but I saw several people lifting someone into a car, and it looked like the madman from behind. I haven't seen the madman since then. Their car looked a lot like yours, so I thought it was you guys."
Zhang Li immediately said, "Let's go check and see if there's any clue left in the house."
NOTES
1. Tsampa is a traditional Tibetan staple made from roasted barley flour, often mixed with butter tea. ↩
2. Zhanmo refers to a demonic figure in Tibetan mythology, believed to bring misfortune and suffering. ↩
3. Shri Devi, also known as Palden Lhamo, is a wrathful protective deity in Tibetan Buddhism, known for her role in subduing evil forces. ↩
4. The Incantation of Achala, or Fudo Myo-o, is a powerful Buddhist mantra associated with exorcism and protection, often recited to ward off evil spirits and demons. ↩
5. Prajna Paramita Heart Sutra: A key scripture in Mahayana Buddhism, emphasizing the concept of emptiness.
6. Gobba tribe: A fictional tribe created for the narrative, representing an isolated group with unique traditions.
7. Jixiang Tianmu: A deity in Tibetan Buddhism known for warding off evil.
8. Acala Mantra: A sacred chant associated with Acalanatha, a wrathful deity in Buddhism known for protection.
9. Langdarma: The 42nd king of Tibet, historically known for his persecution of Buddhism during his reign.
10. Boudhanath: A famous stupa in Nepal, significant in Buddhist history.
11. Nyingma school: The oldest of the four major schools of Tibetan Buddhism, often associated with the teachings of Padmasambhava.
12. Rock treasures: A term used in Tibetan Buddhist contexts, referring to hidden treasures of texts or artifacts.
13. Jokhang and Ramoche Temples: Important Tibetan Buddhist temples in Lhasa, historically housing significant religious artifacts.