Cheng Jia's car moved across the vast wasteland—hundreds of kilometers without human traffic. Only herds of Tibetan wild donkeys ran past skittishly.
The grassy wasteland was like a golden carpet, stretching endlessly. The wind blew, creating ripples like a lake of sparkling gold. At the end of the wasteland were silver-gray mountains, and overhead was a sky as blue as the ocean—overwhelming and refreshing.
Cheng Jia's car rippled through the blue sky and golden grass. She opened the window to let the wind in, looked up and saw the high blue sky, and an eagle circling.
She looked up at the sky, not the road ahead.
Suddenly passing over a road full of potholes and gravel, the car shook several times and stalled.
Cheng Jia tried to start it several times, but after struggling repeatedly, the car was completely dead. She thought the car would eventually break down, but she didn't expect it to happen so quickly and so thoroughly.
Cheng Jia opened the car door and walked into the golden dry grass, looking back and forth. Blue sky and wild grass, uninhabited.
She simply fell into the golden grass to bask in the sun, closed her eyes, and the sun dyed her world red.
Only the wind was blowing.
The world was very quiet, vast and grand. It contained surging power.
The grassy earth was warm, gentle, and human-like.
Suddenly, she felt like she wanted to make love.
The sun was warm and the dry grass fragrant.
She didn't know if it was good luck or bad luck, but the sound of wheels in the distance woke her up. Her chest rose and fell slightly. She slowly opened her eyes, stared at the sky for a while, no emotion in her gaze.
The dry grass had been rolled into a mess by her.
She'd had a vague dream. Maybe life had been too boring lately, so she sometimes thought of the man with warnings in his eyes.
She got up and rubbed her messy hair, looked sideways to see a dark green jeep—the same series as her car, but a few levels higher.
The car approached, stopped, and a man in sunglasses dressed as a hippie poked his head out and greeted, "Hey, the car broke down?"
"It's probably useless." Cheng Jia said.
"Let me help you take a look." The hippie was very warm and friendly, ready to get out of the car. The young girl in the passenger seat held his hand, seeming reluctant to help.
The hippie said a few words to her, got out of the car, and smiled at Cheng Jia. "When you're out and about, you have to look out for each other, right?"
Cheng Jia said indifferently, "Thanks."
The young man took tools and began checking her car. His girlfriend—the girl with smoky eye makeup like a panda—also got out and walked around, her gaze falling on the black cases inside Cheng Jia's car.
The hippie asked, "You travel with so much stuff?"
Cheng Jia said, "I'm here for work. I have to bring my tools."
The hippie said "Oh" and continued fixing the car while chatting with Cheng Jia sporadically.
"Miss, what do you do for work? Why did you come to the no-man's land alone?"
"Veterinarian." Cheng Jia lied without a moment's hesitation or a blush.
The reason was simple—she was tired of the endless, repetitive questions people asked once they knew she was a photographer.
"Veterinarian?" The hippie's eyes widened.
Cheng Jia observed his expression. "More or less a wildlife veterinarian."
"You specifically treat wild animals?"
"Mm."
"Have you treated elephants?"
"To give an elephant an IV, you'd need a container as big as a mineral water bucket." Cheng Jia had spent a year in Africa with a Black wildlife veterinarian, so she knew.
"What about lions and leopards?"
"Injections have to be done with a gun, or you have to anesthetize them first."
"Miss, where are you from?"
"Shanghai."
"You're really brave to come out alone."
Cheng Jia: "..."
The hippie was quite a talker. After about twenty minutes, he was still asking, "What's your favorite animal?"
Cheng Jia said, "If the car can't be fixed, just forget it. Leave it there."
The hippie also gave up. "Uh, this car can't be repaired. How about... wherever you're going, we can give you a ride."
His girlfriend Panda was unhappy and complained, "Do you ask for my opinion? We have my things in the back of the car. What if there's no room?"
Cheng Jia didn't plan to go with them. "No, I'll call for rescue later."
The hippie repeatedly said sorry and was dragged into the car by his girlfriend. He drove the car, leaned out of the window and waved to her.
"Girl, see you later!"
The young man's hearty and friendly farewell still echoed on the plateau, but Cheng Jia quickly smelled something wrong—the smell of gasoline?!
There was a smell of gasoline nearby.
Cheng Jia walked around the car, found a few drops of oil stains, opened the fuel tank and saw that someone had drilled a hole and stolen a whole tank of gasoline.
Cheng Jia laughed and looked up. The two young people had already slipped away.
She didn't take this episode to heart. She sat down and leaned on the car body, took out a cigarette and smoked.
The wind blew all the time, and the grass shook all the time.
The world was empty. She didn't think about anything, just put her hands on her lap and flicked the ash. After smoking, she pressed the cigarette butt into the ground and extinguished it, pressed it hard several times until her fingers were stained with mud, then twisted open a bottle of water and poured it on the spot.
She had nothing to do. She looked around, sat for an unknown amount of time, and suddenly felt a sense of emptiness—not knowing where she was.
At this moment, there were soft footsteps behind the car. The weeds rustled—light and abrupt, not human.
Cheng Jia turned around and saw a small Tibetan antelope sticking out its head on the other side of the car. When it saw Cheng Jia, the front hooves it had just extended shrank back. It hesitated for a while but still walked out.
The little guy probably hadn't seen a human yet, so it didn't know the danger.
The little Tibetan antelope was fluffy pale yellow, its small ears spinning in the wind. Its eyes were dark, vigilant yet curious, and it looked at Cheng Jia like an innocent child.
Cheng Jia held her breath and didn't even roll her eyes.
The little Tibetan antelope approached hesitantly and walked to a few meters away from Cheng Jia. The mineral water bottle had been knocked over, water overflowing and flowing into the grass. It lowered its head to lick the overflowing water, licked, looked up, and continued to lick.
On its little buttocks, the short tail swung.
Cheng Jia didn't want to scare it away and even gave up the idea of using her camera to capture this precious moment.
But the sudden ringtone of the mobile phone broke the tranquility. The little Tibetan antelope was startled, ran away, and disappeared without a trace.
Cheng Jia picked up the mobile phone. It was an unfamiliar number.
"Hello?"
"Cheng Jia, did you block my phone?" This was the doctor.
"Ah, yes."
"..." Fang Yan's tone was quite restrained. "Where have you been these days?"
"I won't tell you." Cheng Jia tapped the lighter and lit another cigarette.
"Didn't we make an appointment to meet that day? You said you wanted to come to me for a check-up."
"I'm a patient, and you can't believe what I promise."
Fang Yan was speechless for a while. After a moment, she sighed. "It doesn't seem to be getting better. Are you hiding from me?"
"I really don't want to see you."
"Cheng Jia, you can't do this."
"What can't I do?" Cheng Jia said coldly.
"Why do you have such a temper... Are you impatient again? ...Have you had sex with someone again? ...Where are you? Why is there such a loud noise? ...My God, Cheng Jia! You won't jump off a building, will you?!"
Cheng Jia said, "I'm shooting in Qiangtang."
"...Qiangtang, what is that place?"
"West... Next to Hoh Xili."
Fang Yan was silent. After a while, she said, "Cheng Jia, I was right."
"What did you say?"
"Your cause. Excessive psychological stress, anxiety, depression and compulsion caused by control, and uncontrollable emptiness, loss and panic. This forces you to pursue alternatives and excitement, resulting in you now not being able to control yourself..."
"Fang Yan," Cheng Jia said lightly, "You are sick."
"What?"
"You can't help but want to analyze others at every turn, and people who dissect others are sick. You need to find a sense of control in others. You can't control yourself and yet you still analyze others." Cheng Jia learned and sold immediately, returning the words as they were.
"Cheng Jia, listen to me..."
Cheng Jia interrupted. "Why should I listen to you? Do you really want someone to listen to you? Can't you control yourself?"
"...Cheng Jia. I won't be angry if you say this, and I won't leave you alone. You're getting more and more excessive, but you're a patient. I know you're under a lot of psychological pressure. You have no inspiration, you can't make good works. Isn't it because of Jiang Kai and... back then?"
Cheng Jia cut off the phone and threw it on the grass.
She grabbed her hair a few times, grabbed her phone again, found her mother's number, and quickly typed a text message: "If you dare to tell others about me, try it!"
She turned off the phone, sat for a while, got up and tried to start the car, but to no avail.
Cheng Jia had no intention of calling for help. She took out her camera and took pictures in the nearby grass. After a long time, there were still no vehicles passing by.
She set up a tripod, activated the timer function, and posed for a selfie.
The sky, snow-capped mountains, grass, tattered red cars, overflowing sunglasses and suitcases—anything could be used as a background and props.
She posted poster-like photos on Weibo—good scenery, good technique, good figure, and a high and cold style. Millions of fans clicked and left messages, all praise, envy, and requests for advice.
They left messages saying she was positive, sunny and optimistic.
After all the composition ideas were photographed, Cheng Jia sat on the roof of the car to bask in the sun, holding the camera and sifting through the photos.
Although she couldn't come up with works that could win contests, there were still more than enough for commercial use. She looked through them one by one—they were all good. At the end, Peng Ye appeared on the screen.
The sun was shining and the screen was dark.
She lowered her head and leaned closer, having to block the sunlight with her hand to see clearly.
He had turned his head away from her. His collarbone was prominent, very defined, connected to the tendons on his neck, pulling the muscles and bones. The light outside the window hit him, forming deep depressions full of shadows.
Seeing the simple and plain teahouse in the background, she couldn't help but think of the aroma of tea in the morning and the somewhat strange-tasting tsampa, as well as his eyes.
She felt that this photo was very flavorful.
Cheng Jia admired it for a while, picked up the camera, looked left and right through the viewfinder. The surrounding scenery didn't change, but suddenly the camera caught something—dust rising in the distance, weeds flying.
A car was coming.
Cheng Jia looked up from the camera and saw it was a Dongfeng off-road vehicle.
"There's a car ahead." Shitou, who was driving, reported the situation. "I'm afraid it broke down."
Peng Ye, who was resting in the back seat, opened his eyes. "Stop and take a look."
Approaching, Nima poked his head out and pointed. "It's the family planning supply dealer. She appeared again."
Sixteen also looked excitedly. "Ah, it's really her."
Peng Ye listened and looked over. The distance between him and her was getting closer, and then, the car stopped.
Blue sky, golden grass. Cheng Jia held the camera in her arms, sitting cross-legged on top of the red car. She squinted at him and didn't speak.
The sun was shining, and she was still the same look she'd had when she looked at him that night—straight, dark, cold, smiling, like some kind of cold object.
An indescribable object.
But this time Peng Ye discovered that her eyes were like the camera she was holding in her arms.
Hollow, deep.
Just as a doctor's eyes will look like the knife in their hand, Cheng Jia's eyes were like the camera lens in her hand.
With such eyes, she must be a photographer, not a traveler.
The two looked at each other indifferently, as if they knew exactly what the other was thinking.
But as a liar, Cheng Jia was not ashamed at all. She looked directly at Peng Ye openly, as if the person who said she was going to Lhasa, Zhangmu, and Nepal wasn't her.
She patted her butt and stood up, standing on the high roof of the car. "I'm going to the Dajie Protection Station. Are you going the same way?"
"That's where we are." Sixteen said, "Oh, I didn't introduce myself clearly to you last night."
"Oh, the flood washed away the Dragon King Temple." Cheng Jia said.
Sixteen asked, "What are you doing there?"
The wind on the grassland was very strong, and Cheng Jia shouted loudly, "Cheng Jia. I am photographer Cheng Jia."
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