jdhmnovel Chapter 118: The Road to Tibet: Heart to Sunlight City
Chapter 118: The Road to Tibet: Heart to Sunlight City
Continue the journey to Tibet:
The morning light in Nyingchi, like a veil gently sprinkled across the earth by the mountain god, gently ushered in a new day. The thin air was filled with the cool scent of pine needles and morning dew. Li Fugui and Xiao Taojie stood in front of the RV, stretching lazily, their eyes full of anticipation. Beside them, Zhang Tingjian, the Little God of Wealth, leaped and danced, clutching a map covered in Tibetan auspicious symbols. He exclaimed, "We're almost to Lhasa to see the real Buddha!" Zhang Nan, carefully inspecting the RV's equipment, smiled and reciprocated, "Yes, the scenery along the way is beautiful."
The RV slowly started, its tires rustling over the gravel road, a prelude to a distant destination. Inside the car, Sister Tao hummed a tuneless tune as she hung a Tibetan wind horse flag by the window. The colorful silk fluttered in the wind, reflecting a smile in her eyes. Li Fugui held the steering wheel steadily, his eyes occasionally glancing at the cheerful children in the rearview mirror, muttering, "Everyone, sit tight. This road ahead won't be easy." Zhang Tingjian squeezed in between the seats, sharing a legend he'd heard from his fellow villagers in Nyingchi. He said mysteriously, "The Mila Pass ahead is where the gods test mortals. The whispers of the mountain gods are hidden in the wind."
Outside the car window, the scenery flowed like a painting. The Niyang River meandered like a jade ribbon, its banks interwoven with golden meadows and vibrant forests, like the earth's overturned palette. On the mountainside, herds of Tibetan yaks scattered like black pearls, and occasionally, melodious pastoral songs drifted by, ethereal and like the sounds of nature. But as the altitude climbed, the atmosphere inside the car grew increasingly tense. Little God of Wealth Zhang Tingjian's face flushed crimson as altitude sickness set in, his head dizzy. Sister Tao hurriedly handed him an oxygen tank and patted him on the back, reassuring him, "Don't be afraid, just a few puffs will be fine. This is just the plateau's 'warning'."
In the pickup truck at the back, Zhang Bei opened the window, letting the wind blow into his collar, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. Xiao Xing was sitting in the passenger seat, holding A Bao. The little guy's black and white fur was messed up by the wind. His black eyes looked around curiously, and he barked from time to time, as if adding a bit of liveliness to the journey. "Brother Zhang Bei, can we drink authentic butter tea in Lhasa?" Xiao Xing asked with anticipation. Zhang Bei grinned, revealing his white teeth: "Of course, let's go to the old teahouse in Barkhor Street. The fragrance of tea can waft for several blocks."
Nearing the Mila Pass, the RV slowed to a crawl, like a weary old horse. A howling wind threatened to flip the car over, and a blizzard of snow fell, instantly blanketing the sky in white. Li Fugui slammed on the brakes, his face grim, as the car trembled slightly in the blizzard. Zhang Nan, wrapped tightly in a cotton coat, got out and placed snow chains under the tires. His hands were red with cold, and as he worked, he shouted, "Everyone, work harder. We'll feel better after this!" Zhang Tingjian, even despite his discomfort, helped pass tools, his face full of stubbornness. The wind and snow pierced their collars, chilling them to the bone, but their eyes burned with determination, determined to overcome this "Trial of the Gods."
Mila Mountain: A legend on the backbone of Tibet. Mila Mountain, called "Jia Ge Jiang Zong" in Tibetan, is about 5013 meters above sea level. It stands in the southeastern part of the Tibet Autonomous Region, like a majestic backbone, dividing Nyingchi and Lhasa. It has left a bold mark on the map of mountains and rivers in Tibet. Its origin is wrapped in the mud and sand of the long river of time and the beautiful light and shadow of myths and legends.
In the story of geological evolution, the Mira Mountains are a masterpiece of plate tectonics. Millions of years ago, the Indian Plate plunged northward, violently colliding and squeezing with the Eurasian Plate. The Earth's crust uplifted, folded, and fractured. As if lifted by a colossal force, the mountains rose from the ground, twisting and stacking rock layers, a record of the majestic workings of deep Earth forces. Granite, gneiss, and other rock masses form the mountain's backbone. Eroded by wind and rain, and honed by glaciers, the bare rock cliffs bear witness to a turbulent past. The sharp peaks and deep valleys are the condensed "hieroglyphs" of a long geological epic.
Milarepa Mountain is considered a sacred checkpoint by Tibetan Buddhists. Legend has it that Milarepa, a renowned Kagyu monk, once practiced and practiced magic here. This renowned Kagyu monk, renowned for his asceticism and supernatural powers, has left sacred sites wherever he ventured. Milarepa witnessed his transcendental moments, its caves serving as retreats for meditation, and the mountain breezes carry mystical mantras. Believers consider traversing the mountain a arduous journey of spiritual cleansing. Every step, every turn of the prayer wheel, is a prayer to the Buddha. The mountain pass is lined with prayer flags, mani piles, and wind horse flags. Scriptures and colorful silks carry wishes aloft, as if connecting with the master's past, conquering the heights through the power of faith, transcending the boundary between the mortal and divine realms.
He is rooted in the fertile soil of folklore. Ancient legends claim it to be the "abode of the mountain god," protecting the peace of Tibet. The mountain god gathers the spiritual energy of heaven and earth at the peak, controlling wind, snow, and lightning to protect the surrounding areas. Herders, seeing blizzards circumvent the mountain but disease remains, firmly believe in the deity's protection. Legend also claims that the mountain holds an entrance to the secret realm of Shambhala, where those who bravely cross the mountain and find the right opportunity can glimpse a wonderland, drawing countless explorers with aspirations. This legend, like a bloodline, permeates Tibetan life. During Tibetan festivals, solemn mountain worship ceremonies are held at the foot of the mountain, with offerings of barley wine and butter tea, and hymns praying for prosperity for both people and livestock, and a bountiful harvest, strengthening the bond between the mountain and the people.
In terms of transportation history, Mila Mountain was once a dangerous and daunting road. In the old days, merchant caravans carried tea, salt, and medicinal materials, and fought against wind, snow, and lack of oxygen on the winding paths. Horses’ hooves and footsteps stepped out of the “lifeline” of trade and cultural exchanges. Later, simple roads cut through the barriers, and cars climbed up breathlessly. Although it was difficult, it connected the regional development context. At present, the tunnels are opened, like shortcuts in time and space, shortening the distance in time and space, allowing people and materials to flow smoothly. The natural barriers of the past have become thoroughfares, but the spiritual symbolic significance of the mountain has not diminished. The memories of past conquests and cultural sediments still shine brightly in the wave of modern convenience, calling on travelers to trace their roots and experience the soul of Tibet.
Mila Mountain, rising from the geological wilderness, is shrouded in the halo of faith, immersed in folk customs, and witnessed by changes in transportation. It is an "alloy" of natural power, human spirit, and the footprints of the times. It lies quietly in Tibet, continuing its legend.
The pickup truck struggled to keep up. Zhang Bei squinted his eyes, trying to discern the road in the snow. The wheels slipped, and the truck swung dangerously. Xiao Xing clung to A Bao in fear, her cries tinged with tears. Zhang Bei gritted his teeth, steadying the steering wheel. He whispered, "Don't be afraid, I'm here!" He slammed the accelerator, using the terrain to adjust the direction. The pickup truck moved forward amidst the spray of snow, like an icebreaker forging its way across the white frozen ocean.
When the snow and wind subsided, the RV and pickup truck finally crossed the Mila Pass. Sunlight pierced the clouds, illuminating the prayer flags, whose fluttering chorus seemed to celebrate their bravery. Everyone disembarked, gazing at the endless snow-capped mountains and the azure sky. Their exhaustion gave way to awe and pride. Zhang Tingjian, weak but excited, shouted, "We won! Even the mountain gods made way for us!"
From then on, the journey gradually became smoother. The grasslands stretched endlessly, wildflowers twinkled like stars, and the graceful figures of Tibetan antelopes occasionally flitted by, like moving musical notes. Spending the night in Dangxiong, a blazing bonfire illuminated everyone's faces. Li Fugui strummed his guitar, his strings blending with the Tibetan string music. Sister Tao and Xiao Xing danced the Guozhuang dance, their skirts swirling. Zhang Nan and Zhang Tingjian fed A Bao, their laughter echoing in the night sky.
Arriving on the outskirts of Lhasa, the sun shone brightly. The Potala Palace towered in the distance, its red and white walls gleaming with a holy light. Zhang Bei honked his horn, and the pickup truck and RV drove side by side, cheers deafening from the inside. After enduring many hardships and crossing mountains and rivers, they, dusty but filled with passion, drove towards the sunny city where faith and dreams intertwined. On the streets of Lhasa, amid the creaking of prayer wheels, their story quietly continued to write another chapter, as if the journey to Tibet was endless, full of surprises and hope.