The small town is on the eastern edge of the snowy area and south of the Gobi. Looking far into the distance, the endless Qilian Mountains are connected with the towering Altun Mountains, which separate the snowy area from the Gobi. The rolling rocks in the ravines for thousands of miles have witnessed the intersection of different civilizations. The desert sand that has been deposited for thousands of years has buried the rise and fall of the empire. secret. Although the small town is sparsely populated, it controls the throat of the Central Plains leading to the Western Regions and the Snow Regions. All the way to the west, the vast desert spreads out in front of you. The neighing of horses, the sound of camel bells, the piercing cold light of sharp blades, and the iron horse of Wang Shijin. Hundreds of kilometers to the south, grasslands and meanders are scattered across. The Tibetan woman has long braids, and her cold and clear eyes make her green but well-defined face reveal a refreshing serenity.
  Although the scenery of the small town is magnificent, poverty has always been shrouded here. Because of this, batches of people have come and gone, but there are always a few “Lengtouqing” in the northwest dialect who stick here, both to protect the people and help the poor.
  Lao Zheng is one of them.
  Frost has fallen this year, and Tibetan areas are extremely cold. Lao Zheng pulled on his cotton-padded coat, and before he could clean up the beard that had accumulated for many days, he rushed to the pastoral area to deal with the police situation. The police situation in the grasslands is relatively simple, either the sheep or the cattle are lost, and this time is relatively rare – the wolf got into the sheepfold and bit several lambs. While Lao Zheng turned on the siren, he flashed the police lights. On the mountain in the distance, he could still see the eyes twinkling with the stars. At that time, a few howls from time to time drifted away – the wolves retreated. It has been nearly 20 years since Lao Zheng came to the Tibetan area, and no one has counted how many similar police cases he has handled.
  Lao Zheng is from the provincial capital and graduated from the undergraduate police academy. Yes, you heard it right, this sloppy middle-aged man in police uniform with mud or dirt on his uniform is a proper city man and a proper college student. No one knows why Lao Zheng chose to be stationed in Tibetan areas, and no one knows why he took root in the grassroots all year round.
  The villager who called the police this time is the object of Lao Zhengxin’s help. The town built a sheep shed for him, and his son was sent to study in a farming and animal husbandry school. The family will move to the town in the spring. Safe and fearful. After working with fellow villagers to repair the sheepfold, Lao Zheng gave a few more words, left some living materials, and boarded the old-fashioned jeep. At this time, Lao Zheng had no sleep at all, so he simply took advantage of the night to go to the center of the grassland to relax. Light pollution has apparently not eroded the vast starry sky here. Before coming to the Tibetan area, Mr. Zheng thought that the Milky Way was just a place where the stars were dense. When he stepped on the desolate land and looked at the sky, he really knew that the Milky Way was really a big river that would flow. It may be difficult for people living in cities to realize that every star hidden behind the smog is a neighbor who gets along with the earth day and night. Strictly speaking, the land under Lao Zheng’s feet belongs to the “third pole”, so at this moment, he is one of the closest humans to the stars. The flowing cold light may have come from tens of thousands of years ago. Maybe those stars have fallen long before the stars shine on the earth, but there are always stars shining through the ages, ordinary and faint, helping mankind to find light in the dark night… The corner of Lao Zheng’s mouth slightly raised, There is joy in bitterness.
  At the beginning of the sky, the fish was white, and the good weather in the early morning was destroyed by the rolling black clouds. This is the snow-covered plateau, and everything is unpredictable. The plateau in late autumn was already freezing to the bone, Lao Zheng tore off the piled coats from the back seat, and picked a slightly neat one to wrap around him. Lao Zheng is going to meet someone.
  There is a monastery in Lao Zheng’s jurisdiction, which is full of tourists from all over the world during the peak season. At this time, except for the monks who were guarding the lamps and chanting sutras in the Buddhist temple, no one was seen. Lao Zheng dragged his tired body, his heavy leather boots rattled on the slate floor… Under the bombardment of the west wind, the prayer wheel made a small copper bell, and every inch of the air was filled with the fragrant smell of incense. Against the backdrop of gloomy black clouds, the ancient and quiet temple has a texture that has no relation to time and space. The temple is here, ancient and silent.
  The person Lao Zheng wanted to meet was a university professor. After his son died, he took the initiative to apply to be transferred to the place where his son fought before his death. That’s right, the old professor’s son is Lao Zheng’s police academy classmate and his comrade-in-arms in the Tibetan area. When they were in college, the sons of Lao Zheng and the old professor visited Tibetan areas with their classmates. The beauty of the snowy areas attracted them, and the sense of mission to help Tibetan areas get rid of poverty and become rich left them behind. After graduation, they took the initiative to apply to work and fight where the motherland needed them most. Lao Zheng called the old professor “Dad”, and the old professor saw Lao Zheng as if he saw his own son. Every time they met, the meticulous professor would naturally smile from his brows and eyes, kind and contagious, and quietly held Lao Zheng’s hand and listened to Lao Zheng’s narration of trivial matters. When Lao Zheng sees “Dad”, he always deliberately hides his tiredness, and tells “Dad” interesting things at work with jokes and laughter.
  From the old professor, we only learned that the main reason why Lao Zheng has always adhered to the Tibetan area for so many years is repaying love.
  It was the winter solstice more than ten years ago, heavy snow covered the top of the mountain, the snow did not cover the roof of the car, and the wind was raging and roaring. Upon receiving the distress report, the young police officers, led by the old police, went out to rescue the trapped vehicles and divert the traffic. A group of four of them pulled off the siren and rushed into the snowstorm. At that time, the rescue and support were not complete, and calling the police on a snowy day was like dancing on the tip of a knife. They could only drive and shout all the way. At a turn on the Panshan Highway, Lao Zheng found the trapped vehicle, and the vital signs of the trapped person were in critical condition. In the blizzard, the two old policemen chose to stay behind, directing traffic while waiting for support, and asked the son of Professor Zheng He to carry the injured to the hospital for rescue. After sending the injured to the hospital, Lao Zheng and the professor’s son quickly asked their colleagues in the county to contact the family of the injured. After everything was explained, they hurriedly drove back to the accident site. The snow was heavy and the mountain road was very rugged. On a steep wall on the Panshan Road, an accident happened. The heavy snow pressed down the loose rocks and smashed right in front of Lao Zheng’s car. The brakes on the icy lane didn’t work at all. In order to stop the car, the old professor’s son asked Lao Zheng to release the steering wheel and hold his head. He pulled the steering wheel, and the co-pilot side slammed into the boulder… The
  car stopped, the co-pilot side was completely sunken, the old man The professor’s son was sacrificed on the spot… After the violent impact, Lao Zheng was in a deep coma. The herdsmen who went up the mountain to look for sheep the next morning rescued him and carried him for several kilometers before he met the support team…
  Since then, Lao Zheng’s heart has been deeply rooted in the Tibetan area. For this land that left the blood of comrades in arms, it is also for the sake of other comrades who sacrificed. For more than ten years, Lao Zheng has wholeheartedly solved the difficulties for the people in his jurisdiction. The people in Tibetan areas treat themselves well, and Lao Zheng always takes it to heart; the people’s trust in themselves adds brilliance to the police badge on Lao Zheng’s brim.
  Lao Zheng drove towards the horizon where he first saw the faint light. Under the backlight, his dark face full of wrinkles looked very resolute. It was nothing but the imprint of his unwavering faith and mission in his life, day after day, year after year.
  Hundreds of early mornings, or the morning sun sprinkled the earth, or the blizzard covered the mountains, the Tibetan old man leaning on the street corners and alleys was always the same, singing Jam Nie alone, singing the vicissitudes of this land to the whistling west wind. Words and words dissipated in the morning light with the white mist, but they started again and again, and they were passed down by word of mouth. Lao Zheng is just an ordinary member of the Chinese police and an ordinary member of the tens of millions of poverty alleviation cadres. Maybe Lao Zheng is just a glimmer of light in the dark night, but it shines with the glory of Communist Party members. Everything Lao Zheng has done for this land will not be trapped under the ancient glacier, and the mountains, moon and breeze are eternal witnesses.

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