Chapter Seventy-Two: Do You Need Any Help?

Just after the Lunar New Year, a heavy snowfall blanketed the capital of the frontier province, Urumqi. Auspicious snow foretells a bountiful year, yet for the minority herders of the borderlands, snow is not always a blessing. Though recent government support has enabled many to abandon their nomadic ways, when the snow grows too deep, even the rotational pastures become entirely covered. Livestock then lack feed, and reduced yields are inevitable.

Inside the training base in Tianshan District, Urumqi, the quiet atmosphere reflected the holiday spirit. The vast compound was guarded only by a handful of security and essential staff.

In a corner of the base, Aziguli Maimaiti pushed a snow shovel, clearing the road by piling snow to either side, while her younger brother, Turghun, used a spade to toss the snow onto the grass and into tree pits along the path.

Friends from the southern regions might not fully grasp the perils of northern snow. In places like this border province, a snowfall is no small matter. If the snow isn’t dealt with promptly, the sun melts it by day, only for it to refreeze at night, leaving treacherously slick roads where a single misstep can lead to injury. Moreover, the winters here are much longer than those in the south; once icy roads form, they often persist until late April of the following year. Thus, in Urumqi, after every snowfall, nearly everyone turns out to sweep snow, pushing it to the roadside to prevent harm to pedestrians.

Aziguli and Turghun’s presence at the base was unexpected. They had originally returned home for the holidays. Though the Han calendar New Year is not their own, minority employees are given equal leave. After all, Han staff receive holidays during Eid al-Adha.

Their time at home was far from easy. Their family’s pasture had suffered a snow disaster two years prior, causing heavy livestock losses. This year, their parents had taken out loans and were burdened with debt. The siblings could help only a little, but their efforts did little to improve the family's situation.

Aziguli heard that working shifts at the base during the New Year meant double wages, with meals and lodging provided. So she brought her brother back to Urumqi.

Their parents were delighted by the siblings’ initiative to ease the family’s burdens, and were especially pleased that Turghun could continue playing basketball. This was a kind and gentle Uyghur couple; otherwise, they would never have allowed their uniquely gifted son to pursue studies and sports.

Turghun himself was eager to return to the base. He couldn’t bear days without basketball. The borderland winters were too harsh for outdoor sports; the base offered better conditions.

Though Turghun’s attitude might seem carefree to outsiders, it was precisely his singular focus that had given him such a strong foundation and feel for the game.

The sunlight after snow was piercingly bright. Turghun had to bundle up, though thankfully, winter kept him from overheating.

Clearing snow was no easy task. Turghun tried to lighten his sister’s load, but Aziguli was adamant. Though tossing snow to the roadside looked easier than shoveling it off the main path, pushing thick snow was truly arduous. With accumulations exceeding ten centimeters, clearing required sustained effort and carried the risk of slipping and injury. That’s why Aziguli didn’t let her brother do this job.

“Alright, once you’ve pushed these aside, go practice. The sun should be shining into the gym now, it won’t be too cold.”

Having cleared the main road, Aziguli urged Turghun to hurry off to train. After the holiday, the base had shut off the gym’s heating to avoid waste, since such a large facility left unused would squander energy. Only the staff dormitories kept their heaters running.

Without heating, the gym was barely warmer than outside. Turghun could either endure the cold or wait for the sun to warm the gym during the day.

“I’ll help you finish. There are still plenty of side paths left to clear.”

Turghun understood his sister’s intent, but he had his own resolve: he didn’t want her to be overworked.

“It’s fine, you go ahead. I can manage alone, and maybe the security guards will come by soon.”

Just as Aziguli predicted, once she returned, the holiday-duty guards became much more enthusiastic. Whenever they had nothing to do, they’d come help her. One clever guard even ran an extension cord into the gym, so Turghun could warm himself a little while practicing.

But Turghun set his jaw and kept working, his actions showing his determination.

“Go on, or I’ll get angry. You mustn’t waste time now—you need to train hard. Coach Wang gave you an opportunity, not so you could shovel snow.”

Whenever Wang Lei was mentioned, Aziguli felt a pang in her heart. She found it hard to let go of that tall, gentle man.

Just as the siblings’ faces flushed and tempers rose over the snow-clearing, a voice called out:

“Maimaiti, brother, do you need another hand with the snow?”

They turned to see the burly Hawule Pulati approaching, a spade in hand.

“What brings you here, Hawule?”

“Maimaiti, brother, why didn’t you let me know you were back in Urumqi? Do you look down on Hawule Pulati? If I hadn’t just passed by and heard the guards discussing your sister, I wouldn’t have known you returned early.”

(Among Uyghurs, these terms of brother and elder are quite common.)

Indeed, Hawule had learned of the siblings’ return only because he overheard the guards joking about who should help Aziguli with the snow while passing the base. With a couple of packs of cigarettes, Hawule had won over the guards and entered, spade in hand.

Turghun flushed at Hawule’s words. Since arriving at the base, Hawule had looked out for him—from mediating his early conflicts with Cai Aihong to supporting him in training. Though Turghun had an inkling of Hawule’s intentions, he felt he couldn’t refuse such kindness.

“No, Hawule. We’ve only just come back a few days ago.”

“Haha, I was only teasing. Let’s get to work—finish early, and we’ll play ball. Honestly, this holiday has been dull; I’ve been hoping to find someone to train with.”

Hawule spoke only to Turghun, unable to face Aziguli directly. Although his intentions were clear, he was still a university student, not yet graduated.