July of that year, I've been to Tibet.
Where I Qiannian man, a love pleated skirts, like the sea tranquil quiet woman, her name is Wei. In the south, she has a weeping love story. To forget, she said to me: "I went to see the days in Tibet, see Tibet, clouds, look at Tibet's Gesang Hua, and then the sad things in the past down there." I said you: "Go back I would like to see is the first girl that sweet smile of Wei. "
Persevering, she came back, told me: "Summer, I want to stay in Tibet, I should put those people, those things buried in the south my son." I do not discourage, and will not discouraged. She went to Tibet, never came back. Away from pleated skirts, away from the sea.
We occasionally contact, she said: "The summer blossoms Gesang."
I said: "Wei, Lotus opened."
She said: "The summer wind rises."
I said: "Wei, leaves out a parasol."
Day, "she said:" Gesang Hua and opened in summer, you come? "
I said: "Yes, Wei, me."
I took the train all the way to speeding on the Qinghai-Tibet Railway.
Arrived, she was waiting there. Ying Ying with a smile. At that time, the early morning of the first ray of light in her compact face, but concealing facial features between the vicissitudes of life. Difficult to at this time she and her past overlap. Search efforts in the mind of the old memories of her, but less of blurred. Impression of the wind that seems like a fog, hard to grasp. Only she wore a light pink pleated skirts, relying on the sweet smile of a man at the beach image is also engraved in my memories. Two circumstances, this plateau of dust, to a fair-skinned women honed into a rough spot south half a plateau of red people. I feel bad a bit sore nose, eyes began to blur. She hugged me light, smell the gardenias that taste. And I, smell the smell of sun.
Tibet is indeed very blue sky, blue to make me want to swim in it. To swim, not fly.
She took me to the Potala Palace and Jokhang Temple, there are those turning pious monks. I have a mild altitude sickness, head some pain, vomiting symptoms.
She said: "Summer, Tibet is not for you."
I asked: "Wei, you are suitable for Tibet?"
She did not answer me.
I put those in the south leaf handmade bookmarks to Wei. Ginkgo, red maple, willow and other kinds of leaves are plastic. I hope she will not forget the South, even for her, there do not want to mention the past. Wei presented to me a white hada.
Departure the day before yesterday, we in the midst of the grass, sat on the floor. Looked up and silence a long time.
She said: "Summer, I do not go back, nothing memorable in the past, you know."
I said: "Wei, I understand, this is beautiful, I also like this:"
She said: "In Tibet, as if one day ran into a central position is so infatuated man Gyatso, I got all my married. Summer, I've been here. You miss, and to come."
I said: "You'll meet the man, and I, in a mulberry flowers in July, will come."
At that time, Tibet's sky is blue.
II
July of that year, I've been to Tibet.
Like the pleated skirt like to see a sea, but chose to place himself in the southern Tibetan woman.
Hi take the train, only one reason, that is, you can view thousands of picture to be left by the window after exposure, it is a bustling place both inside and outside the shuttle as introspective Huannian. Occasionally, Xiao-ming in the two trains with staggered moment, and phase, as the eyes of strangers, it never goodbye is never an absolute beauty.
Looked at the scenery, mind, and Wei Wei has been thinking about the past. A guilty love, two years gone, do not know if she has been down.
A startling glance, walked up to a look, shallow faint pale man smiled, laughed very clean.
"Never met a man like no one else to be lost in this." He is still smiling.
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