Half a year later, in the Himalayas.
"September and October are Nepal's rainy season. Also low season for tourists." In shoddy English, the driver was explaining things to them. "Very few people... Must go to the inn I recommend to you. My good friend owns it."
Actually, all four of the customers inside this vehicle also had very shoddy English.
Two were Russians, the other two were ethnic Chinese who were born and raised in Russia. When shoddy skills meet shoddy skills, the advantage is that "I get what you're saying and you understand what I'm saying"—everyone is happy.
Right now, outside the window, the rain was coming down in torrents and had turned this international highway that led to Nepal into a muddy mess.
Though it was called an international highway, it could not even compare to the winding mountain road in China's Tibet that she had travelled back then.<>You should be reading this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com,
Through the rain-stained glass, Wen Han's gaze fell on the backpackers by the roadside. Due to the heavy rain, many people were beginning to abandon their vehicles and, with their large bags upon their backs, proceed by foot along the foot of the Himalayas.
"From what I can see, you will need to get off the car soon, too." The driver sighed, "India and China have sandwiched Nepal in between them and restrict Nepal in everything. India won't even let Nepal fix up a road and make it into a good one."
"You're saying the Indian government is imposing restrictions?" Sitting behind the driver, Wang Wenhao nudged up the glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose and asked, "Why would India restrict Nepal from fixing a road?"
"Nepal is surrounded by India on three sides and China on one. Young man, you should understand, if the roads of Nepal, this country that is in the middle of those two, are fixed up, the Indians will feel uneasy."
As Wen Han listened, her gaze suddenly halted on one spot.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, this translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
At first, she only caught a glimpse of a person whose face was more than half-concealed by the hood of a black hiking jacket and who was wearing sunglasses even in the rain, like a movie star who wanted to cover up all his distinctive features. However, right as she was observing him, that person removed his sunglasses. It was apparent that he was taking a glance at this one and only car that was still strugglingly holding up and making its way along, even when the road was about to collapse.
Those eyes were simply too unique...
It was that lama she had encountered in Tibet?!
A lama who had returned to the secular life?
That couldn't really be possible, right? Was she mistaken?
Their vehicle rocked and jolted in the pits of mud. Her entire body was suddenly pitched upward by the car's rocking and then slammed back down into her seat again. She was still thinking about that lama who had left the monastic life, and whipping her head around, she searched with her eyes. The vehicle had already driven past that stretch of road. In this torrential downpour, the sights were blurred. But in that instant when she at last located him, she clearly saw a black pistol now in his palm. Turning in the direction of a backpacker whom their vehicle had just passed, he raised his arm—
"Ah!" Wen Han let out a reflexive cry.
Everyone's gaze fell on her.
Speaking incoherently, she stared wide-eyed out the window.
YOU ARE READING
Life: A Black and White Film (一生一世，黑白影画)
General FictionWen Han has arrived in Nepal on vacation and, as a Buddhist believer, also a pilgrimage. But very shortly after entering the borders, she runs in again into someone she had had one encounter with six months ago, hundreds of miles away on the far-off...
