We arrived in Urumqi at 7 o'clock, got down and took a nucleic acid test nervously, got on the double-decker hard seat to Kuitun at 9 o'clock, and didn't get off until 12 o'clock.

I stayed in a single room for 50 yuan, and the nucleic acid test results, itinerary code, and ID card were all checked very strictly.

When I picked up the car in the morning, the big brother of China Railway Express learned that I was from Chongqing and said meaningfully that I had lived there for five years. Then he took the initiative to add me on WeChat and said that if you have any questions about shipping, you can contact him for consultation. I asked too arrogantly, "Are you going back to Chongqing?" He shook his head decisively and said, "Since the divorce..." I can't reveal the details later, but in short, he is a person with a story.

It didn’t take long to load up the car and prepare the luggage. The hotel owner recommended a Shaanxi noodle restaurant. The hand-made soy noodles are very firm. The noodles are as chewy as rice cakes. The taste must be authentic, but it is a bit sour to me. . Before I left, the boss specifically asked me if it tasted okay? I felt his passion.

Walking onto the Duku Highway, I was not as excited as I imagined. The scenery along the way was too monotonous, with only the occasional cattle and sheep passing by, which made me feel a little relaxed.

During this period, I spent too much time taking photos, doing things here and there, and I ran out of energy later on. I didn’t bring enough water. In short, it was miserable. I pushed the cart seven or eight times on the ground and rested three or five times on the roadside. It’s hard to describe that kind of discomfort. After a whole afternoon of suffering, I persisted until I saw the word “shop” appear.

I bought a bottle of Coke, drank three-quarters of it, and immediately came to life, comparable to fairy beans. I asked the boss if I could stay in the hotel, and he asked for a hundred! I was so exhausted that I gave in. Then he helped me get hot water, turned on the stove, and invited me to have dinner together. He was quite attentive, and I didn't feel so bad about being ripped off.

I bought some snacks at the small shop, and then suddenly remembered that after leaving Dushanzi, this was the boundary of Wusu City, so I happily drank a bottle of home beer. The night was getting colder and colder. I took out the naan that I brought with me and placed it under the red stove. I couldn't help but think of Lao Bai's familiar poem -


Green ants' new fermented wine, small red clay stove.

It's snowing in the evening, but I can't drink a cup.


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