A Tale of Two Cities Supporting Xinjiang

In order to show that he was genuinely doing practical things for the herders, Yang Zhitong, still in high spirits, immediately took the petition and went from house to house at the herding sites overnight.

"Uncle Abduja Token, this is our petition, please take a look."

Yang Zhitong sat in Uncle Token's yurt, drinking warm milk tea, and handed over the petition, patiently explaining: "It's clearly written here that we're not going against anyone, we're just letting the higher-ups know our stance."

We want to support the development brought about by the project, but we also want to preserve the lake and people's livelihoods; neither can be neglected.

Uncle Abduja Token had Yang Zhitong read it to him word by word. When he heard the clauses about not occupying irrigation canals, not polluting lake water, and giving priority to hiring locals, his cloudy eyes lit up.

Without much hesitation, he picked up the red handprint ink and pressed it heavily onto the signature area of ​​the petition: "I believe you, Director Yang, you won't harm us. We remember everything you've done for us over the years."

Yang Zhitong then went to other pastoral sites, explaining the contents of the petition in detail at each one.

As the herders looked at the petition with its concrete demands, they felt Yang Zhitong's sincerity. They picked up red inkpads and pressed their fingerprints onto the paper. Some even had literate family members sign their names next to their fingerprints in a crooked manner.

Early the next morning, Abduja Token went out with a bag of freshly baked naan bread.

He remembered that Yang Zhitong needed to do something for them, so he gave him the bag of naan bread.

When he rushed to Yang Zhitong's office, he found the door locked, the windows dark and empty.

Abduja Token's heart sank, and he quickly grabbed the security guard on duty at the gate and asked, "Comrade, where is Director Yang Zhitong? I need to see him urgently."

The security guard looked up at him, shook his head, and said, "Director Yang set off early this morning, saying he was going to the Department of Natural Resources. He drove off before dawn, he left in a hurry."

"broken!"

Uncle Token's expression changed instantly.

He looked up at the sky, which was already getting dark on the horizon, and the wind was much stronger than usual. Based on his years of experience living in the Gobi Desert, this was clearly a sign that a sandstorm was about to hit.

"What are we going to do? He left so early, something's bound to happen on the way."

Abduja Token, not bothering to explain further to the security guard, urged, "Comrade, quickly call Director Yang and ask him where he is. Tell him to find a safe place to stop immediately, and absolutely not to try to force his way through the Gobi Desert!"

The security guard quickly took out his phone and dialed the number Abdujah Token had given him.

It rang for ages, but all he heard was the mechanical message that the number he had dialed was temporarily unavailable. He tried calling several more times, using two different phone numbers, but the result was the same.

Abduja Token was so anxious that he stamped his feet, feeling even more panicked. The signal in the Gobi Desert was already intermittent, and if a sandstorm really hit, the signal would definitely be completely cut off.

Back at the pasture, Uncle Token shouted at the top of his lungs as soon as he entered, "Alim, Alim, come out quickly, something's happened!"

Alimu had just put on his coat and was about to go out to herd the livestock when he heard his father's anxious call. He quickly ran out: "Dad, what's wrong? What happened?"

"Director Yang might be in trouble!"

"Abduja Token, look at the sky! A sandstorm is about to hit. His car is definitely going to get stuck in the Gobi Desert. We need to find someone to rescue him right away!"

Alimu looked up at the sky and felt the increasingly strong wind, immediately realizing the seriousness of the situation. Without a word, he turned and shouted, "Batu, Bek, come quick, it's urgent!"

Several familiar villagers quickly ran over, all looking puzzled.

Alimu quickly explained, "Director Yang might encounter a sandstorm on his way to Urumqi, and his car might get stuck in the Gobi Desert. Let's quickly grab our tools and go help him!"

Abduja Token hurriedly instructed, "Take ropes, planks, and shovels, along with plenty of water and dry food. Search along the road to Urumqi. Be careful! If things get too difficult, I'll go with you!"

"Da Da, you're getting old. With such a strong sandstorm, if you go, we'll have to take care of you, which will only cause us trouble."

Alimu quickly stopped him, "I'll take Batu, Beke, and the others. We're fast on horseback and have a good view; we'll definitely find Director Yang!"

With that, Alimu turned around and went to pack up the rescue tools, while Batu and Bek hurried home to fetch their horses and other supplies. Soon, the group was riding horses, carrying their tools, and heading towards the Gobi Desert.

Not far from the pasture, the wind picked up and became stronger, making it hard to open one's eyes. Sand and dust began to spread, and visibility decreased.

Alimu kept urging his horse to go faster, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Just then, Alimu saw a dark shadow stuck in the sand dunes in the distance. The color and style of the vehicle looked like the off-road vehicle that Yang Zhitong often drove.

"Quick, there's a car over there!"

Alimu shouted and led everyone to spur their horses forward, secretly praying: It must be Director Yang, please don't let anything happen to him!

Not long after the car entered the Gobi Desert, the weather suddenly changed.

A fierce wind swept in, carrying sand and dust, instantly blotting out the sun and reducing visibility to less than a meter.

Yang Zhitong quickly stepped on the brakes to slow down, reducing the car's speed to the slowest possible pace, moving forward at a snail's pace.

But after driving for a short while, the car suddenly sank, and the two front wheels sank directly into the soft sand dunes.

He floored the accelerator, the engine roaring loudly. He quickly shifted into reverse, but the car just spun around, kicking up more dust and sinking deeper and deeper until the wheels were almost buried in the sand.

Yang Zhitong gritted his teeth and pushed open the car door. The sand and wind that came at him felt like knives scraping his face, making him wince in pain.

He looked up and around, and all he could see was the vast Gobi Desert, without a single blade of grass or a mound of earth in sight, stretching as far as the eye could see.

I took out my phone and saw that there was no signal at all.

He quickly and carefully stuffed the petition and hydrological data into his inner pocket, wrapped them in his coat, and made sure there was no mistake.

After locking the car, he headed towards the nearest herder's settlement in his memory. That was the only place he could seek help; there was no other way.

The gravel underfoot hurt my feet, and every step felt like walking on a knife's edge. Before long, my shoes were covered in sand, which was very heavy.

The sand and dust rushed in through my collar and cuffs, filling my mouth and nose with dirt. It was dry and astringent, and my throat felt like it was on fire, making it difficult to speak.

My lips were cracked with small cuts, oozing blood, and it hurt terribly whenever I pressed them together.