Jack shook his head, wrapping up the qingke bread as he said, “Not a guest from outside the mountains.” He pointed to the distant, continuous snowy peaks. “It’s a guest from within the snow mountains.”

Jack’s Tibetan carried a strange accent. Ethan Brooks found it odd and unsettling; Jack must be an outsider, sent here by his parents to become a lama. Although Jila Monastery was a very small and dilapidated temple, the old Geshe lama there was a renowned wise man in the area, said to be nearly a hundred years old. Many people sent their sons to this temple in the snow mountains to learn great wisdom.

A guest from within the snow mountains—perhaps this was a cryptic way of speaking. Many of the lamas’ words were obscure and hard to understand, with profound origins behind them.

Ethan Brooks knew that even if he asked about the affairs of the monastery, he wouldn’t understand, and it would be impolite to pry, so he helped Jack pack up, putting away the wine and food.

According to his habit, he accompanied Jack for a while, helping him carry the bundle. This was also a way of showing respect to the Buddha. Although Ethan Brooks was not a believer, he enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere that came with this practice.

The snow had lessened a bit. In the distance, the Duoxiongla Mountains were pure white, blending into the gray-white sky, a scene that stirred the soul. They walked in silence, listening to the crunch of snow underfoot. After an hour, Jack stopped. Ethan Brooks couldn’t help but ask if it might be better to find a few villagers to go along.

Jack smiled at Ethan Brooks and shook his head. “Don’t worry, everything will go smoothly for me.” He spoke serenely; though clearly exhausted, his heart was full of joy. After speaking, he saluted Ethan Brooks, meaning farewell.

Ethan Brooks returned the gesture, but felt a bit puzzled. What had happened in the lama temple that allowed this young lama to show such a peaceful expression?

He was a little absent-minded, quietly watching Jack walk away. After a few steps, Jack suddenly turned back and said something to him.

He didn’t understand what it meant. The words were scattered by the snowflakes. When he tried to catch up, the lama had already disappeared into the white snow, as if he had never existed at all.

These two events happened in places a thousand miles apart, yet the secrets within them, if explained in detail, would be utterly incredible. What unknown connection was there between the ancient tombs beneath the Central Plains and the visitor from the snowy lands of Tibet? The greatest mystery hidden in Chinese history would be unraveled because of this opportunity.

藏海花Ⅰ Chapter Five: The Beginning of Reincarnation

After that incident, I picked up my pen again to record the continuation of this story, entirely because things had taken an unexpected turn. Although these developments were not as thrilling as I had once imagined, the amount of information they brought far exceeded my expectations.

After that incident, I understood a truth: many mysteries and truths in life do not need to be pursued deliberately. When all is said and done, they will gradually surface with the passage of time.

A philosopher once said that only when the tide goes out do you see who’s been swimming without underwear. Or, to use a more fitting example: when you’re deliberately searching for something, you often can’t find it no matter how thoroughly you search the house. But when you stop looking, it will suddenly appear before you at some unexpected moment.

Some mysteries are just like that.

After that incident, I was in a slump for a long time. During that period, I was caught between two states. One was extreme depression—I didn’t want to do anything, just wanted to lie on a lounge chair, recalling fragments of the past, thinking about how things might have turned out if I’d made different choices. If I hadn’t been so conflicted, so obsessive, maybe I would have ended up living a different life, perhaps a more comfortable one. In another sense, not knowing something is often much better than knowing; understanding brings much more pain than ignorance.

The other state was that I kept encouraging myself, telling myself that no matter how much I didn’t want to do certain things, I still had to do them.

So I managed Uncle’s shop with this contradictory mindset. At first, without Peter, I had to handle everything alone, and it was extremely difficult. Whenever I felt discouraged or wanted to give up, I would think of the song Peter sang to me before he died.

“Little Third Master must move forward, Little Third Master cannot retreat.”

I had no right to retreat.

In this business world, so-called moving forward is really just about handling small matters. If I shrank back from even these things, I would truly be letting a lot of people down, so I kept working hard.

By the second quarter of the second year, I had managed to sort out many things. I discovered a trick: when you’ve already done something thoroughly, especially after you’ve moved past the initial accumulation stage, things become much simpler. You have room to make mistakes, room to turn back, and as long as your overall gains outweigh your losses, your system can survive.

Even better, I had gradually figured out many of Uncle’s tricks.