Before Sonam left for Guangdong province, his father traveled from the pastoral areas of Nagchu to Lhasa to see him off. He brought dried yak meat from home and meat buns made by Sonam's mother.

"Be careful. Don't fall," his father repeated. "It doesn't matter what place you get. Just come back safe."

Sonam listened in silence. He admitted he avoids talking too much about his family. "If I say more," he explained, "I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back my tears."

In southern China, far from the thin air of the plateau, Sonam initially struggled. The abundance of oxygen left him constantly drowsy. But once he stepped onto the track, the heaviness disappeared.

When the starting gun fired in the men's 800m for athletes aged 16 to 21,Sonam surged forward. This time, he ran without sunglasses, guided purely by muscle memory and instinct, and crossed the finish line first in his heat. Under the southern sun, the boy once nicknamed "wuba" was no longer an owl hiding from daylight. He was now running freely beyond the mountains that once defined his world.