By Wu Longhui Correspondent by Zhang Chengxian
　　
　　The wind rose from nowhere.
　　Fine sand, mixed with choking dust, blew all around. In the courtyard, the national flag on its pole waved vigorously in the gale.
　　At 7 a.m., the sun was still shrouded in the morning haze, and a faint blush tinged the eastern sky. At the Nantun railway police post under the Qiemo police station of the Korla Railway Public Security Division, the morning lights were already on, their dim glow casting a quiet contrast against the vast edge of the Taklamakan desert.
　　Nantun railway station, a small station on the Hetian-Ruoqiang railway, sits at the northern foothills of the Altun mountains, on the southern edge of Lop Nur, and at the fringe of the Taklamakan desert. The area is affected by year-round sandstorms and is one of China’s most severe wind and sand hazard regions.
　　Officer Xiao Zhiquan gave his face a quick wash and got to prepare breakfast in the canteen. It was a simple meal of noodles with pickled mustard greens. He took the cooked noodles from the boiling pot, mixed in some pickles, added a spoonful of mushroom sauce, and topped it with a few blanched greens. Xiao savored every bite as he slurped it down.
　　After breakfast, Xiao suited up and headed to the police post.
　　On the office wall, two large Chinese characters expressing the virtue of integrity in solitude shine prominently. Xiao had his own interpretation of the phrase: "Only by enduring loneliness can one truly safeguard the peace of the area under their watch."

　　Sole and New in Nantun Station
　　Xiao, now 48, has served in the police force for 27 years.
　　On June 16, 2022, the entire Hetian–Ruoqiang railway, linking Hetian prefecture in southern Xinjiang with Ruoqiang county in the Bayingolin Mongol autonomous prefecture, officially opened. At the time, Xiao had been a veteran officer for over 20 years. He voluntarily requested a transfer to the Nantun railway police post—more than 800 kilometers from his home—one of the most challenging posts along the line. He became the only officer stationed there.
　　From then on, Xiao put down roots here, guarding the Nantun station and ensuring the safety of the 90-kilometer railway line in the area.
　　Although the station is small, with only two passenger trains stopping each day, its opening has made travel and freight transport more convenient for the local ethnic communities along the line. It is significant for economic development in rural southern Xinjiang.
　　Xiao used to be a police officer on board the trains. When he first arrived at Nantun railway station, he was unfamiliar with the duties of police officers stationed there. Since the railway had just opened, the nearby villagers had little awareness of railway safety laws, and the local people didn’t trust the newcomer. As a result, he did not get off to an auspicious start.
　　To effectively carry out his duties, Xiao revisited station policing skills he hadn’t used in nearly 20 years. He diligently studied the operational procedures, frequently called experienced officers for guidance, and took a meticulous, step-by-step approach—carefully patrolling the railway line and visiting villages and schools along the route. In the three years since Xiao took the post, he has gained a thorough understanding of the security situation in his jurisdiction as well as the condition of the railway under his supervision.
　　"When people don’t trust you, go to them more often," Xiao said. He began carrying packed lunches for day-long patrols. On village market days, he would weave through the crowds with a portable loudspeaker and railway safety pamphlets, spreading awareness.
　　"These days, most of the folks around here help me as part-time volunteer railway patrollers — and honestly, they’re a huge help!" Xiao said, his face beaming with pride.

　　Emergency Response
　　"The wind’s pretty strong today, so I’m worried debris might get blown onto the railway and harm the train."
　　Patting the dust from his trousers and wiping sand from his goggles, Xiao picked up his work bag. With his loyal partner, Huniu the dog, at his side, he began his patrol along the railway fence, leaving no potential hazard unchecked.
　　In a nearby village, Wang andhis family own a 200-mu jujube orchard right next to the railway. Every year after pruning the fruit trees in late winter, they’re left with a huge pile of dry branches—enough to fill two rooms. Getting rid of them means hiring a truck and paying for labor. In the past, Wang would just burn the branches on the spot.
　　After the opening of the Hetian-Ruoqiang railway, burning materials near the railway was prohibited to ensure line safety.
　　One day last winter, while on patrol, Xiao spotted white smoke dangerously close to the tracks and rushed to investigate. He found Wang was burning the dry branches.
　　At that moment, the burning branches were just 60 centimeters from the railway fence. There was the risk of unintended consequences if the flames had spread to the tracks.
　　Xiao dashed forward, using a portable shovel to smother the flames with sand. He then explained to Wang the potential dangers. Afterwards, he contacted the local officials to discuss how they could help Wang properly dispose of the dry branches.
　　In the end, local authorities gathered villagers to assist Wang in loading all the dry branches onto a truck for proper disposal.
　　"Officer Xiao’s really something! He didn’t just explain why keeping the railway safe matters; he also helped me get rid of these dry branches. From now on, I’ll definitely listen to him. No more burning branches for me, that’s for sure!" Wang gave a thumbs-up when talking about Xiao.

　　Steadfast in the Boundless Desert
　　In early summer, Nantun’s sky was clear and brilliantly blue, with the sun shining hot and bright.
　　Xiao’s vehicle bounced along a rough, almost primitive, road. Here, any short distance would take one to two hours to cover.
　　Xiao’s skin was darkened by years of working long hours outdoors under the sun. Carrying his tool bag, he patrols on foot. Although the fence by the railway is within sight, he still has to climb over a sandy ridge to reach it, and his clothes will be soaked with sweat in no time.
　　Sunlight pierced the hazy air, spilling across waves of drifting sand which, from a distance, looked like gentle fingerprints softly pressed into the earth.
　　Reaching the crest of a sand ridge, Xiao paused. Before him stretched a series of gently undulating dunes, rising layer by layer, trailing alongside the railway line as it extended toward the distant horizon where earth and sky met.
　　During a routine railway safety inspection, Xiao was examining the fence along the desert railway when, without warning, the wind suddenly picked up. The sky, which had been azure just moments before, now looked as if someone had flung pigment into the air, turning the world a murky gray-yellow. Driven by the wind, the sand swirled and howled in its relentless advance.
　　The gale swept in from distant Lop Nur, carrying fine sand so delicate it slipped through every gap it could find. In an instant, the sky’s color shifted from yellow to pale brown, then to reddish brown, until everything was swallowed in darkness.
　　Such extreme weather made his patrol exceptionally challenging.
　　Braving the fierce gale, Xiao could hardly breathe. Every time he opened his mouth, wind and sand rushed in, scraping down his throat. Each step forward took immense effort. HIs mask, two layers of scarves, and protective goggles were no match to the fine sand, which seeped through every crack.
　　After finishing his work, the trip back went smoothly. With the wind at his back, he broke into a light jog. But just as he neared the vehicle, he lost control and overshot the car before finally regaining his balance.
　　By the time Xiao returned to the police post, his nose and ears were full of sand. "I feel like I’m a’sandman,’" Xiao joked. "The wind in Nantun is really something else!"
　　Xiao, however, remained unfazed by the ordeal.
　　In November 2024, the final section of the perimeter containment project at the edge of the Taklamakan desert in Xinjiang was sealed, establishing the world’s longest green ecological barrier encircling a desert. This marks a significant new achievement in China’s innovative ecological governance. Xiao exclaimed, "The endless yellow sands are turning green! From now on, the ecological environment will keep improving, and so will our working conditions."

　　Sources of Spiritual Comfort
　　"The vase desert stretches as far as you could see—totally barren and empty. Every now and then, you’d spot a few camels or passing cars." Xiao recalled what it was like when he first arrived. Traveling home meant taking a train for nearly 11 hours.
　　More often than not, the days of a officer are dreary, weighed down by an unspeakable solitude.
　　"I’m busy all day, but at night, the longing for my family feels like it’s caught in the wind, carried away, so far away", Xiao said.
　　When he was alone, Xiao would video call his wife.
　　When Xiao’s wife noticed the fraught sandstorms during their calls, and couldn’t help but feel pained by the fact that Xiao was so far from home. At the same time, she always tried to comfort him with good news.
　　"Look! Our daughter represented her school in the speech contest and won first prize in the junior high division," his wife said with pride.
　　"Wonderful! When I’m home on break, I’ll cook you both a nice meal!"
　　"Dear, take good care of yourself over there."
　　"I’m doing just fine. After all, I have Huniu here with me."
　　For Xiao, the companionship of his police dog was a special source of comfort, second only to his family.
　　The setting sun cast its last rays across the horizon as dusk settled in. The lights around the station gradually lit up.
　　His sharp commands were echoing around: "Stand!" "Search!" "Attack!"
　　Following Xiao’s commands, Huniu eagerly performed her training drills. Her flawless completion of a required task will be rewarded with profuse praise from Xiao.
　　Huniu, the three-year-old police dog, often accompanied Xiao on patrols and visits along the railway line.
　　"I feel grounded with the dog," Xiao said. Once during a patrol, a venomous snake suddenly slithered out of the grass. Huniu immediately charged forward, barking relentlessly until the snake retreated.

　　Passion Amid Loneliness
　　When he first arrived at Nantun and observed the sandstorms rage relentlessly, Xiao sometimes thought, "After this assignment, I’ll request a move to a police station."
　　But every time he helped travelers with their problems, received their sincere thanks, or watched a fully packed train safely pass by, Xiao couldn’t help but smile as a deep sense of pride welled up inside him.
　　Though Nantun Station saw far fewer passengers than larger stations, incidents of misplaced belongings and lost children still happened. Xiao always responded immediately, whether searching for a lost phone or backpack, or buying a ticket for a stranded passenger. "I had to be there—you never knew when a traveler might need help."
　　Last May, Xiao helped a traveler find a phone lost under a seat in the waiting room. The passenger was a teacher at the local middle school and, over time, the two became friends. When the teacher learned about Xiao’s desire to improve railway safety awareness among local residents, hestarted organizing railway safety education at the school and invited Xiao to give a lecture to all the teachers and students. He returned Xiao’s kindness.
　　"Sometimes, I’ll receive unexpected greetings from passengers I’ve helped. My lonely days at the station are somehow instilled with some life," Xiao said, grinning. "Every time I lend a hand, it reminds me of those early days in the force—when I gave everything for the people—and I still feel that same fire inside me!"
　　On January 17, 2023, with just 15 minutes before departure and passengers already on board, Xiao noticed two travelers standing anxiously by the ticket vending machine. Hefound that the machine was malfunctioning, and despite repeated attempts, station staff couldn’t fix it. Missing this trip would mean an extra day’s expense for the passengers.
　　Xiao immediately worked with the station staff to contact the head of the train crew, informed him of the travelers’ ticketing issue, and requested that the passengers be allowed to purchase tickets onboard.
　　Every effort will pay off. The hardships of the work are matched by the joy of success. Every experience helped Xiao grow through his duties.
　　One noon, a railway worker named Mamet hurriedly approached Xiao and held out his phone. "Xiao, do you think I’m in trouble? What should I do with it?", he said.
　　Xiao examined the text on the phone and immediately recognized it as a typical scam message.
　　"Don’t worry,man, it’s a scam text. Just ignore it."
　　Mamet scratched his head shyly: "You taught us about fraud, but seeing it myself... I panicked. Good thing you were here!"
　　With a few words, Xiao defused the crisis. However, the trust he shared with the staff at the Nantun station wasn’t built overnight.
　　"These past couple of years, except for the days I’ve gone home for breaks, I’ve spent nearly all my time with the railway workers," Xiao said. "I can tell right away when someone new shows up at the station and I always make a point of checking their background." He added with a smile, "The tiredness, the tough days—none of that really matters. What matters is keeping the station and the trains safe."

　　The Legacy of Frontier Guards
　　Sitting on the empty platform one quiet summer night, Xiao glanced at Huniu beside him. His little companion rested her chin on the ground, head tilted, quietly watching him.
　　In that brief moment when their eyes met, Xiao felt his heart melt.
　　Deep in the Gobi during winter, the landscape stretched endlessly beneath a biting cold wind, while in the desert summer, every grain of sand seemed to shimmer with heat. At night, the scattered lights of the small station quietly guarded the safe journeys of passing travelers. The strict operational demands of the electrified railway lines, combined with Nantun station’s unique location, created harsh working conditions and a solitary life for police officers stationed at the desert outposts.
　　To Xiao, these station-based officers were like screws—small yet vital—holding together station security and railway line safety.
　　Through the changing seasons, year after year, Xiao has spent nearly half of each year at the railway. His daily work is routine and repetitive, yet since the station opened, not a single incident affecting railway safety has occurred.
　　Across the vast, boundless desert, trains roared noisily by. Every time one came through, Xiao was sure to stand atop a hill and watch it pass by.
　　For the locals, covered in dust on sunny days and drenched in mud when it rained, getting to Urumqi, the Xinjiang region’s capital, for supplies used to require transferring between two or three buses. Before the Hetian-Ruoqiang railway opened, travel was arduous. These memories of those "hard trips" remained deeply etched in Xiao’s mind.
　　Xiao’s parents are from Shanghai. After retiring from the military, they chose to settle in Xinjiang. The "spirit of guarding the frontier" embodied by their generation—from bustling metropolis to remote borderlands—has always inspired Xiao.
　　In 1994, the then 17-year-old Xiao enlisted in the army, determined to uphold this legacy. Through rigorous training, he earned the title "Outstanding Soldier" twice in three years. After leaving the military, he joined the railway police, where he received four commendations and was named an Outstanding Civil Servant.
　　"Our family grows 64 mu of organic red jujubes. Before the railway was built, there were few buyers, the jujubes didn’t sell out, and prices were low. Since the train started running, more people have come, and the price of jujubes has doubled. The Party and the government’s good policies brought us these benefits. I’m confident our lives will only get better," jujube farmer Kurban Temir said.
　　"Now we can hop on a train and go see the flag-raising at Tiananmen!"
　　The Hetian-Ruoqiang railway is a road to happiness and prosperity.. The locals need this railway and the railway police.
　　Walking across the yellow sunbaked earth, Xiao was impressed by the stunning glow of the setting sun on the extensive desert. Fortunate to serve as a guardian of the Hetian-Ruoqiang railway—the "road to happiness" for the people of southern Xinjiang—he feels a surge of passion within: "You look out at that road disappearing into the horizon, and you just know: it leads to a better future."
　　Now, as the Hetian-Ruoqiang railway nears its third anniversary, the days of slow-moving donkey carts are gradually fading into history. In the distance, the sound of train whistles echoes across the vastlandscape. As a train rushes by, Xiao Zhiquan pauses his inspection to salute it. In his heart, it’s his way of reporting to the country and the people: deep in the Taklamakan desert, a group of railway police are safeguarding this "lifeline of hope," making what was once considered a remote land now feel within reach.■
　　
　　Author: Wu Longhui, Korla Public Security Division of Urumqi Railway Public Security Bureau