Xu Nanheng was still a thousand kilometers away from Lhasa.

The longer he drove, the more irritable he became. He got out to smoke, only to find he had no lighter.

Just as the frustration was about to drive him to kick his tire, a man struck a flint, and a flame leapt out, held up to the tip of his cigarette.

Under the evening stars, this was the first face in months that Xu Nanheng found pleasing to look at.

“Are you going to Lhasa?” Fang Shiyou asked. “Could you give me a ride? My car broke down here. Name your price.”

Xu Nanheng narrowed his eyes. “Five hundred.”

Fang Shiyou: “You're quite a warm-hearted person.”

……Damn. Should've asked for more.

•

Xu Nanheng was a volunteer teacher in Tibet for a year.

The young master from the capital had never seen such a beautiful sky. He especially liked the evenings, when the twilight lingered and the stars dotted the lake-blue horizon of the southern Tibetan plateau.

Standing with textbooks in hand, the tall and refined Teacher Xu gazed upward. Under a gentle breeze and faint clouds, the Milky Way shimmered with a soft ripple.

Fang Shiyou stopped at a short distance, his eyes fixed intently on him.

Fang Shiyou felt that this was approximately the epitome of a peerless young master.

In truth, as Teacher Xu looked up at the stars, he wanted to sigh something poetic.

Unfortunately, as a math teacher, his literary foundation was as thin as paper. All he could murmur was, “Ow, my neck.”

Fang Shiyou: .