〈A Love Letter from Lhasa〉4

by Chen Ching-Yang

Chapter 7: The Love Poems of Tsangyang Gyatso on the Wall

01
The next day, near noon, Zhang Yang brought them to the area near Jokhang Temple. The group entered a Tibetan-run restaurant to have a meal.

After ordering, Annie went to the restroom. On her way back, she passed by a wall covered with messages left by tourists. Among them, one stood out—it was a love poem by Tsangyang Gyatso written in Tibetan. The signature caught Annie’s attention:

To Any:
Whether you see me or not / I am there, neither sad nor joyful
Whether you think of me or not / Love is there, neither coming nor going
Whether you love me or not / Love is there, neither increasing nor decreasing
Whether you follow me or not / My hand is in yours

Annie thought to herself, “Isn’t this the love song I heard last night?”

She noticed the next line of the inscription: “Copied by Dege Gesang.” It reminded her of the handsome Tibetan youth she had met yesterday at the art stall, whose features resembled those of Songtsen Gampo. She felt a subtle yearning to see him again.

Back at her seat, Annie sipped her coffee, a distant look in her eyes, oblivious to her father Zaxi’s questions until Medora tugged at her sleeve.

Zaxi asked, “Did you hear the love song written by the ancestor last night, Annie?”

Annie nodded.

Zaxi, pleased, said, “Tsangyang Gyatso’s love poems, even after three centuries, still resonate deeply with people.”

02
Zaxi and his companions entered Jokhang Temple to tour.

“I’ll go to the restroom,” Annie said, walking to the side exit and dialing Gesang’s phone.

“Is this Dege Gesang?” she asked.
“Yes, speaking. Are you Annie?”
“Yes, I’m at the side exit of the main hall of Jokhang Temple.”
“All right, I’ll come to get you immediately.”

Within minutes, Gesang appeared, waving at Annie. He walked briskly up to her.

“Let’s go to my study first; I’ll show you some of the murals and Buddha statues I’ve collected.”

Annie followed Gesang along a stone path that twisted twice, arriving at a row of side rooms. They entered one, and Gesang led Annie to a long table, pointing at stacks of mural sketches.

“These are my copies of mural paintings. They are cataloged and studied in batches.”

Annie’s attention was drawn to two paintings on the wall—the portraits of Songtsen Gampo and Princess Wencheng, which Gesang had previously given her.

“These two on the wall—you gave them to me last time. I’d like to see the original murals,” she said.

Gesang explained, “These copies are reproduced from murals, which are mounted on the walls of the inner hall of the nearby Small Jokhang Temple.”

“Then please take me to see the murals themselves,” Annie requested.

“Of course, follow me.”

They left the study and arrived at the main hall of the Small Jokhang Temple. Gesang pointed to the left wall.

“There they are.”

Annie went to the left side, focusing on the murals.

“Look at Princess Wencheng’s features and bearing—they resemble yours.”

Annie turned and smiled at Gesang. She thought, “Is this a coincidence, or some meaningful guidance?”

An old lama, Gongka Sonam Rinpoche, reciting scriptures nearby, stopped and approached Annie with hands clasped, bowing repeatedly.

Startled, Annie listened as the lama spoke a long sentence in Tibetan to both of them:

“You are the reincarnation of Songtsen Gampo, and the woman beside you is the reincarnation of Princess Wencheng. Your return here is a mission entrusted by the Buddha. You must treat her well; she will be your wife in this life, coming from a thousand miles away to find you.”

Annie was astonished by the prophecy. Gesang thought, “How should I tell Annie about this karmic bond from a past life?”

Then the lama Sonam pulled Gesang aside:

“Great Gesang, I foresee you will face a life-and-death calamity. When that time comes, you must return here to find me. Perhaps I can help you survive it, so you can fulfill your mission in this life.”

Gesang replied, “Thank you, Rinpoche. I will remember your advice.”

03
In the main hall, Zaxi and the others had waited for Annie for some time, growing anxious.

“Where did that girl run off to? She said she was going to the restroom, and now she’s vanished.”

“I’ll check the restroom,” Medora said, walking quickly, and returned shortly: “She’s not there.”

“Maybe she got lost? Let’s split up and look for her,” Zhang Yang suggested.

“All right,” Zaxi agreed. “We’ll search separately. When we find her, call the others. Return here in fifteen minutes.”

While Zaxi and the others searched, Gesang and Annie appeared together in the main hall. Zaxi finally exhaled in relief.

“She got lost in the temple but ran into Gesang,” Annie explained.

“Professor Zaxi, nice to meet you,” Gesang greeted.

Zaxi, surprised, asked, “You two know each other?”

“Yesterday, on Octagon Well Old Street,” Gesang replied.

Zhang Yang, watching Gesang, sensed something suspicious and stared at him with doubt.

Zaxi smiled, “Then there’s no need for an introduction! Over the past year, Gesang has provided me with much mural material. He has dedicated himself to collecting and studying Tibetan Buddhist murals.”

04
In the hotel room, Annie leaned by the window, gazing at the street below at dusk. Tsangyang Gyatso’s love poem played in her mind:

“Whether you see me or not / I am there, neither sad nor joyful… Whether you follow me or not / My hand is in yours.”

She then took out paper and pen, sitting on the balcony by the window, writing a poem, word by word:

“Upside-Down Dreams”

The temple bell explodes from within me / Like ripe berries bursting one by one / I hear red blood cells / Nestling, transmitting codes / About being alive, that golden-threaded sutra of the soul, I just returned from California / From the sunny coast, my oxygen-rich flesh waiting / To be ignited by Zen insight / Thus I breathe in the world / Purified in a fireball / Enlightenment, becoming smoke, a cloud / A reflection on a clear lake mirror.

Buddha says: unspeakable / Unless hearts are in harmony, your past sorrows / Continue my wandering like the wind / The void I feel in our handshake / And this is just a dream, unrelated to the next life / A line game of feeling and non-feeling / Closed doors, no memoir intended / Snow, moon, flowers, wind—once the hard core of dreams is cracked / It’s merely a few rolls of romantic poetry / A few strange stories / Yet yin and yang divided, humans and ghosts eventually part ways.

This love could wait, but I was already bewildered / Still trapped in the cocoon of affection / Yet to comprehend worldly vicissitudes / Until someone calls me from the next life / Saying transformation comes only after experiencing impermanence and change / Let go of all forms and thoughts / Abandon upside-down dreams / Then Buddha will ferry me across / Prajñāpāramitā…

Beside her, Medora leafed through the book Tibetan Esoteric Mural Stupa Atlas that Annie had brought.

05
Annie left the hotel and returned to the nearby restaurant, placing her newly written poem on the wall.

She ordered a coffee at the counter and sat in the corner, reminiscing about her childhood with her grandmother, Tsering.

In the courtyard of the Tsangyang family home near Berkeley, California, on freshly tilled land, grandmother Tsering sowed barley seeds while little Annie, wearing a dress, held a small shovel, dirt smudging her hands and face.

“Grandma, will these seeds grow flowers?” little Annie asked.

Tsering replied, “These seeds will grow barley, like wheat, producing tiny flower spikes, and yield grain. When dried and pounded, the grain is ground into flour, the staple food of our homeland.”

At that moment, Zhang Yang entered the café. Seeing Annie lost in thought, he ordered a coffee and sat opposite her.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

Annie smiled, “Just recalling some childhood memories.”

Zhang Yang asked with concern, “Coming back to Tibet, can you adapt to the highland life, Annie?”

Annie nodded.

“When will you return to California?”

“I’m here to search for a lost family heirloom: the original manuscript of Tsangyang Gyatso’s Love Poems. I’ll stay here until I find it,” she said.

Zhang Yang enthusiastically replied, “That manuscript sounds like an important ancient artifact. I have an old friend working at the local relics bureau. I can contact him to help inquire.”

Annie said, “Thank you for your help.”

Zhang Yang cautiously asked, “And the Tibetan youth you spoke with twice—seems you got along well with him?”

Annie replied lightly, “Just a new friend. We had some common topics, that’s all.”

Though reassured, Zhang Yang still felt uneasy but did not press further.

Chapter 8: Zhang Yang Inadvertently Lets the Wolf In

01
The next morning, Zhang Yang went to the Cultural Relics Bureau to meet his old friend Li Ming. The two of them talked outside the visitor room.

“Li Ming, I want to ask you for help to quietly inquire about a certain artifact with historical provenance.”

“Yang, it’s rare for you to ask for help. Tell me—what kind of artifact are we talking about?”

“The original manuscript of Tsangyang Gyatso’s Love Poems.”

“I’ve heard of this artifact, but I’ve never seen it in the bureau over the years. If the original still exists, it must be a national treasure of immense value.”

“So you mean the bureau doesn’t have it in their collection?”

“If they did, I would have had a chance to see it. Remember, my work involves digitizing cultural relics. Who asked you to inquire about this artifact?”

“It was a professor, a descendant of Tsangyang Gyatso, and my longtime client.”

Li Ming thought to himself, If I can locate this national treasure, it would be a great achievement. I might as well follow the lead and use Zhang Yang as a way to trace it.

“Yang, just say I’m willing to offer assistance privately. Arrange for me to meet this professor.”

Zhang Yang considered and said, “I’ll first ask the professor. If he agrees, I’ll bring you along to meet him.”

02
After Zhang Yang left, Li Ming immediately went to the office to report the matter to Director Gar Dawa.

“…Director, my idea is to follow this lead from Zhang Yang to locate the artifact.”

Dawa said, “Your method is feasible. Work with the descendant of Tsangyang Gyatso, investigating both openly and covertly. Find this historically significant artifact as soon as possible. Lunzhu Yangjin will go with you to carry out this mission.”

Yangjin, standing nearby, said, “Yes, Director.”

“I will issue an official document allowing you to mobilize local police to assist in retrieving the artifact. You two must perform well and act with caution!”

Li Ming and Yangjin spoke in unison, “Director, we will do our utmost!”

03
Zhang Yang arrived at the hotel, greeted the front desk, and went upstairs to find Professor Zaxi and Annie. Zaxi was not there, so Zhang Yang went to the next room to find Annie.

“Annie, I just came from the Cultural Relics Bureau. My old friend Li Ming said they can provide the necessary assistance to locate the love poem manuscript. Once the professor agrees, I’ll arrange for the meeting.”

“Zhang Yang, you’re really helpful. When my father returns, I’ll tell him. Thank you for arranging this!”

Zhang Yang smiled, satisfied. “As long as I can help, it’s my duty.”

Medora, standing nearby, felt uneasy. Finding the manuscript shouldn’t involve the Cultural Relics Bureau. Professor Zaxi has always been low-profile in his investigations, precisely to avoid drawing official attention. I shouldn’t voice my opinion in front of Annie yet—let him calm Zhang Yang later when the professor returns…

When Zaxi returned to the hotel room, Medora knocked and entered. Zaxi faced away, drying his face with a towel.

“Professor, you don’t know that Zhang Yang is arranging for Cultural Relics Bureau officials to meet you, do you?”

Zaxi hung up the towel and turned, surprised. “Bureau officials? What’s going on?”

“I overheard Zhang Yang talking with Annie. It seems he volunteered to contact his friends at the bureau to help recover the lost manuscript, and Annie agreed to his plan.”

Zaxi frowned, worried. “Annie has no idea what’s going on! By joining Zhang Yang’s meddling, she’s alerted the authorities. From now on, our movements may be monitored by them.”

“So, professor, what’s the countermeasure?”

“You immediately go get Annie. I’ll explain the risks and stakes to her.”

“Understood,” Medora said and left.

Zaxi crossed his arms, his expression stern.

Annie and Medora entered the room; Medora closed the door.

“Annie, you didn’t suggest Zhang Yang contact the bureau officials, did you?”

“No, Zhang Yang said his friends could provide some necessary assistance, so I agreed.”

Zaxi’s face darkened. “You’ve heard the fable ‘The Wolf Enters the House,’ right?”

Annie nodded. “Yes… could it be…”

“By letting the bureau know that we’re searching for the manuscript, you’ve inadvertently let the wolf in.”

Seeing his unusually severe expression, Annie realized she had caused trouble.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Every time I return to Tibet, though I rely on Zhang Yang for transport, I never let him know I’m investigating the manuscript. I keep a low profile precisely to avoid official interference.”

“Then I’ll tell Zhang Yang he doesn’t need his friend’s help.”

Zaxi shook his head. “Too late! Once the authorities hear we’re searching for the manuscript, they’ll swarm like flies on meat—they won’t let it go.”

Annie looked at her father’s worried face, anxiety creeping in.

04
Gesang entered the restaurant and saw the poem Annie had left on the wall. He paused, reading it. A wave of emotion stirred in his otherwise calm heart. Clenching his hands, a bright expression appeared on his face.

This love could wait, but I was already bewildered / Still trapped in the cocoon of affection / Yet to comprehend worldly vicissitudes…

Repeating the lines to himself, he murmured, “Annie, meeting you is the luckiest thing in this life. I will cherish it.”

Meanwhile, Annie leaned against the hotel window, dialing Zhang Yang’s number.

“Zhang Yang?”

“Yes, this is he. You’re Annie?”

“Yes. I spoke with my father. He says this is our own family matter; we don’t need your friend’s assistance.”

“But I already told him…”

“Father doesn’t want to complicate things, so I’m sorry.”

“All right, I’ll tell my friend.”

“Sorry for the trouble!” Annie hung up and stared at the street below.

05
In the Small Jokhang Temple’s relic research room, Tang Huaimin (Gesang) sat at a table, opening his laptop. In the inbox, he saw an email from Tang Mengying:

Huaimin,
A month ago I arrived in Paris and have settled in. I’m currently studying French at a language school; next year I should enter the Art Research Institute.
French men are very forward, often inviting me out, but don’t worry—I won’t get carried away. How’s Tibet? I hear winters there are freezing. Take care of yourself, and write when you can. Next time before you return to Taiwan, let me know; if I’m free, I’ll come with you!
Your fiancée, Mengying, by the Seine in Paris

Looking at the few selfies of Mengying in Paris, Tang Huaimin felt a pang of guilt: “Mengying, I’m sorry. Everything is fate…”

06
At the Cultural Relics Bureau office, Li Ming received a call from Zhang Yang.

“Li Ming, this is Zhang Yang.”

“This is Li Ming. Go ahead.”

“The matter we discussed before has changed.”

Li Ming asked suspiciously, “How so?”

“Professor Zaxi doesn’t want to complicate things.”

“Oh? The bureau has sufficient resources to assist him. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I think we should respect his wishes. Sorry about that.”

Li Ming sighed. “All right. If you need our help later, just call me.”

Director Dawa, sitting nearby, had been listening and already understood the situation.

“Director, Zhang Yang says Professor Zaxi…”

“I know. Seems we’ve scared the snake, and they are wary. We’ll have to act subtly, following them discreetly,” Dawa said. “Yangjin, go with Li Ming to the hotel where Zaxi is staying. Install a tracker on Zhang Yang’s car. You two will follow in your own car, monitoring their movements from a distance.”

Yangjin stood, respectfully replying, “Yes, Director.”

Dawa instructed, “Wait until they find the target, then reveal yourselves. Like the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.”

Li Ming gave a thumbs-up. “Director, brilliant!”

07
Zhang Yang parked at the hotel lot and went inside.

Li Ming and Yangjin, lying in wait at a street corner, quickly approached Zhang Yang’s van. Yangjin scouted while Li Ming crouched under the vehicle, attaching the tracker behind the suspension. They stood, brushed off dirt from their gloves, and returned to their car across the street.

Li Ming took out the tracker, turned it on, and extended the antenna to test the signal. The small screen displayed an arrow.

“Ready. The two of us—the orioles—will wait to catch the mantis,” Li Ming said.

Outside the hotel, Zhang Yang appeared carrying several pieces of luggage, followed by Zaxi, Annie, and Medora, each holding small bags.

Zhang Yang loaded their luggage onto the van. The three got in one by one; Zaxi took the front passenger seat. Zhang Yang closed the door, and they drove toward Shigatse.

Yangjin drove, Li Ming sat alongside with the tracker on his lap. Their car quietly followed several hundred meters behind.

On the front seat of the van, Zaxi complained, “This journey is unlikely to be peaceful.”

“Professor, you’re worried about the bureau acting, right?”

“Yes. I’ve always been low-profile to avoid official interference.”

Zhang Yang’s expression was awkward. “I truly apologize for causing trouble due to my thoughtlessness.”

Zaxi said with concern, “If the original manuscript is found, once the authorities get involved, they’ll demand it.”

“I understand, but isn’t it safer to let the state preserve such an important artifact?”

“This manuscript is my family heirloom; it’s irreplaceable to me.”

Zhang Yang nodded. “I understand. That makes sense.”