Abandoned the Immortal Cultivator, returned to his hometown to farm and sing

Chapter 1323, 1311. The Gaze of the Cold Wonderland

At exactly six o'clock, the sky was just beginning to lighten.

Another film crew followed the five soldiers, disappearing into the mist of the valley.

When we first set off from the camp, we were walking on a meadow full of purple gentians, with yaks grazing in the distance and small silver fish in the stream.

But after walking for less than an hour, the meadow turned into sparse low shrubs, and further up, even the shrubs disappeared, leaving only moss growing close to the ground, showing a tenacious green.

It was a steep, rocky slope and fragile alpine meadows, dotted with a few tenacious, unnamed purple or yellow wildflowers. Eagles circled above the bottomless canyon.

After turning another ridge, you'll see the tail of the glacier.

A pale blue-white ice tongue hangs down from the snow-capped mountain, its surface riddled with cracks, like frozen waves. Sunlight shines on the ice, reflecting a blinding light.

Water seeped from the ice crevices and dripped onto the rocks, eventually carving small pits into the stones over the years.

The scenery before me was breathtaking, almost otherworldly.

The azure sky seemed so low it could be touched, and huge, bright white clouds surrounded the endless snow-capped peaks, whose peaks, which had remained unmelted for millennia, shimmered with a holy and cold silver light under the sunlight.

Magnificent and vast.

The soldiers all put on sunglasses, otherwise their eyes would be uncomfortable from the glare.

At the same time, pull up your mask to block the biting cold wind.

In July, the lower-altitude valleys of the Himalayas are already lush and green, but the mountain ridges along the border still stubbornly cling to the atmosphere of half-winter, half-summer. Here, there is no sweltering heat of the plains in midsummer, only fierce winds at altitudes above 4500 meters.

It is also the most challenging time for patrols, the "ice-melting season".

The melting of glaciers makes road conditions more unpredictable than in the dead of winter.

Streams formed by millennia-old glaciers weave a dense network through the rocky beach, reaching up to the thighs in their widest points. The water, streaked with ice, is icy cold upon first wading in; after walking less than a hundred meters, your legs feel numb, as if filled with lead. Experienced veterans will walk in front, using their trekking poles to probe the water depth.
After the meltwater washed away the rocks, the gravel on the hillside became loose, and one wrong step could lead to a slip. The soldiers' training boots had long since developed deep creases, yet they still had to "nail" every step to the rocks.

Carrying dozens of kilograms of weapons, equipment, and supplies, a fall could not only injure oneself but also potentially injure teammates.

The difficulties come not only from the ground, but also from the sky.

The morning was clear, the sun shining brightly on the snow-capped mountains, and the soldiers' cheeks were sunburned red. In the afternoon, fog suddenly rolled in, and visibility dropped to ten meters. The wind carried drizzle that hit their faces like small pebbles. Sometimes, while wading through water, a hailstorm would suddenly roll over them, hitting their helmets with a "clanging" sound. They could only hunch their shoulders, protect their backpacks to their chests, and wait for the hail to stop before continuing.

The air here is so thin it's almost tangible; with each breath, the lungs clearly feel the lack of oxygen, as if they can never be filled to capacity.

The intense ultraviolet rays penetrate the thin atmosphere without any obstruction, scorching the skin. Even through thick sunscreen, the face can quickly be branded with the distinctive "plateau red" of the high plateau.

Her forehead and the edges of her eye sockets, which were not covered by the mask, were very clearly visible.

In such an environment, there is no noise, not even unnecessary conversation. Every bit of energy is extremely precious and must be used wisely.

The soldiers lined up, following in the footsteps of their comrades ahead, silently and resolutely climbing upwards.

Along with the visuals, all that could be heard was the sharp sound of the wind and increasingly heavy breathing...

This scene is short, but very powerful.

It combines the grandeur and immortality of nature, the hardships and trials of the soldiers, with the fragility and tenacity of life under extreme conditions.

All of it was mixed together and stuffed into the audience's eyes.

From the gentian meadows to the glacier peaks, every step measures the solemnity of the land, and every breath defies the limits of life.

The most captivating sight is the boundary markers along the patrol route.

The first boundary marker we encountered was at the highest point of the mountain ridge.

The white marble monument was worn and mottled by wind and rain, but the two large red characters "China" on the monument were polished to a shine by the soldiers.

Every time we come here, everyone first walks around the boundary marker to check if it is loose, and then uses their sleeves to wipe away the dust on the marker, even if it is just a little bit of mud, until the white jade base is exposed.

The wind swept across the boundary marker, making the soldiers' cap badges shine. The distant snow-capped mountains stretched out as a silver barrier around the boundary marker.

Amidst magnificent glaciers and fierce winds, every step is a testament to the sublimity of life; the silent ascent is the most steadfast epic of guardianship of the motherland's borders...

After crossing the first boundary marker, there is a downhill mountain road.

The road conditions were better than when we went up the mountain.

The sounds of the wind and panting also subsided somewhat.

The reporter finally remembered his duties during a break.

However, his exhausted body could only manage to ask the soldiers their names.

“My name is Wang Zhen. I come from Xining, Qinghai. I am 31 years old this year. I have been in XZ for four years. Five years ago, I was still studying at military academy. At that time, I longed to come to XZ…” The soldier who was always second in the procession and in charge of the overall situation introduced himself first.

Next, he led the way at the front of the group, becoming the first warrior to step into the glacier and test the loose rocks.

"My name is Chi Dehai, I'm from Xuzhou, and I'm also 31 years old. This is my 11th year..."

"My name is Zhuo Jinlu, I come from Xining, Qinghai. I'm 19 years old and this is my first year guarding the border. I have the best physical strength in the whole company. I didn't even pant when I climbed that 70-degree slope just now..." The young soldier, who was third in line, gripped his rifle tightly and silently memorized the route as he spoke, his voice full of pride.

The older soldier who had been taking care of Zhuo Jinlu behind him took a couple of deep breaths.

Then he laughed at himself, "Xu Yuan, from Nanping, Fujian, 34 years old, his stamina isn't what it used to be. I used to be stronger than Zhuo Jinlu..."

At the end, the strongest soldier carrying the most supplies was somewhat taciturn, only saying, "I am Peng Dewei, from Xiantao, Hubei, 24 years old, and have been guarding the border for three years."

After a brief introduction, the group continued their journey.

We continued down the ridge until we reached another valley before resting again.

It was almost noon by then. The fog had lifted, and the sun climbed over the mountaintop. The sunlight at an altitude of 4800 meters was so intense that it stung the skin, and it felt like being wrapped in ice shards. A mountain breeze blew, and the chill seeped into your bones.

The soldiers' training uniforms were already soaked with sweat and stuck to their backs, becoming icy cold in the wind, but no one dared to take off their coats.

“If I take it off, I’ll catch a cold, and a cold is a big deal on the mountain.” Xu Yuan said as he checked the winter clothing in his backpack.

They have to spend the night outdoors, and getting their cold-weather gear wet would be a real problem.

Wu Zhengze took out the walkie-talkie and pressed the confirmation button twice.

Wang Zhen took out his notebook and started writing and drawing on it; he was writing a patrol log.

Two young soldiers took out self-heating rations from their backpacks and prepared lunch for everyone.

The reporters also received a copy.

The individual self-heating rations didn't taste very good, but the soldiers ate them with great relish.

Chi Dehai, who had been here for eleven years, scooped a large spoonful from his own food ration bag and put it into the bag of the youngest member, Zhuo Jinlu. Then he stuffed a large spoonful into his own mouth as well.

While swallowing, he said, "It's much better than before. Now we can basically eat hot food. Before, when we patrolled, we only had compressed rations and some water."

The eldest, Xu Yuan, raised an eyebrow at the young soldier, "When we get to the temporary camp tonight, we'll have something good to eat. All we'll think about on the way back will make the journey feel less tiring..."

The weather gets cold early on the plateau.

The lunch break was very short; just twenty minutes later, the patrol team set off again.

They are now at the bottom of the slope, and the journey will begin again with another climb.

More glaciers, and more jagged rocks.

The path beneath our feet can no longer be called a "path." It is merely a series of blurry marks trodden out on the precipice by the lives of those who came before us, seemingly impossible gaps between boulders, and a fragile ridge on the edge of a millennia-old glacier.

Huge rocks, loosely piled up to form a rocky slope of over 60 degrees, became the most common challenge. With each step, the rocks would slide down with a crash, as if the entire mountain was refusing your climb.

The soldiers had to use both hands and feet, gripping the edges of the rocks with their hands and probing every possible point of support with their feet, slowly crawling upwards like spiders. With each effort, the thin air made their hearts pound wildly, as if trying to burst out of their chests.

The snowmelt from the July sun refreezes on the steep cliffs, forming glistening, slippery ice walls.

Glaciers, like huge, frozen white rivers, cascade down between snow-capped peaks, their surfaces covered with black gravel, while the fissures reveal translucent, ancient blue ice, like deep wounds on the earth, exuding a chilling aura.

The sea of ​​clouds churned beneath my feet, like a white ocean, dividing the world.

All colors became extremely pure and saturated: the blue of the sky, the white of the snow, the black and brown of the rocks, vast, magnificent, yet extremely monotonous.

Like the gaze of a cold, magical wonderland...

We traversed glaciers and jagged rocks.

It was already four o'clock in the afternoon. The sun began to sink behind the snow-capped mountains, the sky gradually darkened, and the wind grew cooler.

The soldiers quickened their pace, trying to reach the temporary campsite before nightfall.

On the way forward, we still had to wade across the last Rongshui River, which was much wider than in the morning, and the water was already up to our thighs.

Chi Dehai was still walking in the lead. He stuck his trekking poles into the water to make sure the rocks under his feet were stable before shouting, "Keep up, take it one step at a time!"

Wang Zhen followed behind him, holding onto Chi Dehai's backpack strap with his left hand and supporting the reporter behind him with his right.

The reporter, trembling, gripped Wang Zhen's arms as they struggled through the melting ice. Water mixed with ice shards, making his legs numb with cold, but he dared not stop, fearing he would lose his footing if he did.

Xu Yuan had already taken the lead, while Zhuo Jinlu was at the back. His legs were already trembling, and he could no longer claim to have good stamina.

This isn't a matter of physical strength; it's a fear stemming from nature.

Xu Yuan stretched out his hand and called back, "Xiao Zhuo, give me your hand!"

Zhuo Jinlu quickly grabbed his hand; it was rough and calloused, yet warm like a fire…

Finally, Peng Dewei, holding the camera in one hand and supporting the cameraman with the other, struggled to wade across the Rongshui River.

The people on the shore breathed a sigh of relief.

They quickly ran forward under Chi Dehai's guidance.

Fortunately, we were very close. After crossing the riverbank and going around a mountain ridge, a small hut made of stones came into view.

This is our temporary campsite along the patrol route.

It was built during previous patrols to block the cold wind at night.

Finally, we arrived at the campsite. Everyone put down their backpacks and started gathering firewood.

Dry firewood is hard to find on the mountain in July; you can only dig out some withered moss and broken branches from the cracks in the rocks.

Fortunately, there was firewood and alcohol blocks prepared in the temporary camp. This was prepared in advance, and the soldiers would pick up some to take back with them on each patrol when they passed through a forest on the way back.

Chi Dehai was in charge of lighting the fire. Because it was so cold, he struck the match three times before it finally lit. When the flames shot up, everyone gathered around to warm their hands.

Wang Zhen took out winter clothes from his backpack and distributed them to everyone: "Change out of your wet clothes. It's cold at night, so don't take off your clothes when you sleep, and wear your hats too."

Hehe, he changed his clothes and hung them up to dry.

Peng Dewei then took out two aluminum lunch boxes from his large backpack.

Xu Yuan rubbed his hands together, quickly took it, and muttered, "I've been thinking about it all day, I've finally waited for it."

While muttering to himself, he crossed the handles of the two lunchboxes together, connecting them, and placed them on the fire stand.

They made this frame themselves using steel bars, and it's been used for quite some time; it's already charred black.

The lunchbox was opened to reveal a large amount of sauerkraut, blood sausage, sliced ​​pork belly, and stewed frozen tofu, all tightly packed together and frozen into a solid "vegetable brick" along with the broth.

This was made by the mess hall last night. They made several boxes for them to take on the road.

At this moment, licked by the flames, this "brick" is slowly melting and decomposing, "glug glug..."

The broth steamed and slowly began to simmer, its sound particularly warm in the stillness of the highland night.

As the "bricks" melted, a rich aroma forcefully broke through the thin, cold air and spread out.

The sauerkraut, after being stewed for a long time, has a unique, rich, and tangy aroma that makes your jaw ache; the pork belly has a rich, meaty aroma from the fat being thoroughly rendered; and the blood sausage has a unique offal aroma and spice flavor...

All these smells, mixed with the heat, violently assaulted the senses of the seven soldiers and the reporter, who were almost frozen to the bone and exhausted.

This caused a chorus of "gulp," "gulp" sounds as people swallowed their saliva.

"Squad leader, is it ready yet?" Young Zhuo Jinlu swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the lunchbox, the light from the campfire brushing against his chapped lips.

"Don't rush!" Wang Zhen poked the blood sausage with his chopsticks and felt that it was not yet fully softened. "The air pressure is low, and the water is only boiling at less than 100 degrees Celsius. It needs to be cooked for a while longer, otherwise it will still be cold inside."

As he spoke, he took out a bag of flatbread and steamed buns from his backpack and held the bag open for everyone to share.

This was also prepared by the kitchen staff yesterday.

Chi Dehai took a pancake, squeezed it and felt it was a bit hard, so he found two chopsticks to poke it up and put it by the fire to bake it slowly.

Others followed suit.

Finally, squad leader Wang Zhen poked the lunchbox with his chopsticks again, feeling that this time it was okay.

He announced, "Dinner is served!"

(End of this chapter)