Gas Station in the NorthWest Chapter 16


 Yakash was a small village with a small population of about two hundred people.


    Half of the young people in the village had to go out to work, leaving only some old people, women and children to stay behind to look after the family, who relied on the money earned by the young people sent back to the village.


    Therefore, the village appeared to be old and decrepit, as if it were an ancient relic about to be submerged in the desert dust.


    In the centre of the village was the location of the large well, where everyone’s washing, cooking and drinking revolved around, and it was incredibly important.


    The original waterway under the well was already in a state of disconnection, it wouldn’t take long for it to completely disconnect, fortunately, Chen Mu had used his godly map to connect it so that it could continue to be used, otherwise, it wouldn’t be long before the people in the village would have no choice but to relocate due to the lack of water, and this small village would truly be submerged in the dust.


    They walked through the village and saw the wells, as well as the houses and layout around them.


    It had to be said that the Uyghurs of Yakash Village still retained many of their ancestral traditions and customs, and the architectural styles all carried a unique and exotic beauty that was very pleasing to the three tourists.


    Chen Mu had already come to Yakash Village as a guest and had seen everything that should be seen, so he didn’t feel anything, and at this time, he only tried his best to open brainstorm and spread out a few things he knew about the village and introduced them one by one.


    “The well you see here is said to have been drilled during the Qing Dynasty, very archaeologically valuable, and the few surrounding stones at the entrance of the well are still inscribed with the words ‘kan’er well’, but in vernacular.”


    “The materials used to build the houses here are yellow clay and mud blocks unique to the area, which have to be dug up in the Gobi Desert a mile away, transported back by camels or donkeys, and then crafted.”


    “Every family in the village basically plants auspicious trees, or mulberry trees, and when the weather is good, it’s really easy and comfortable to sit under the mulberry trees and look up at the sky.”


    “The Uyghurs have a custom that whenever a boy reaches a certain age, the elders of the family will push him hard, and if he can stand, it means he can get married 




    Guide Chen diligently performed his duty, a dilapidated small village also let him mention out a few points of cultural heritage too, this is what he thought of last night to say, anyway, there was the lack of technology so what history was there to talk about? it was all based on feelings ah, personal perception ah and so on. Anything could be said as long as it made sense.


    Of course, guide Chen thought deeply about this matter last night, the key issue is not to be too stiff or boring, otherwise, people like these three that liked to run in the outdoors without the care for money but personal pleasure and knowledge would start to resent  him after hearing too much nonsense and would find it hard to appreciate the beauty


    Fortunately, the introduction of the Chen guide seemed to be acceptable, the three tourists listened to him all the way with great interest, from time to time they also asked some small questions, forming a very good teacher and student atmosphere.


    Soon, the group had arrived at the home of the elderly Uyghur and Aunt Guli.

    “My old friend, we’ve arrived.”


    The Uyghur old man jumped off the donkey and hurried to his home, wanting to remind his family that guests were coming and that as the host he should hurry out to greet them.


    Guide Chen understood the Uyghur old man’s meaning, and was in no hurry to enter the house, after dismounting from the camel, he continued to sell it to the three tourists: “Legend has it that when an Uyghur man reaches marriageable age, the elders of the family will ride their horses and go from house to house to see those who have girls of marriageable age. How do they determine which houses to visit? Look at the gates of these homes. This is called a gate clang, and it can be made of iron or brass. The elders who rode the horses carried their own whips in their hands, and if the family was rich they used brass whips, but if they were not rich they used wooden whips. In this way, only when they see a door of the same rank will they knock on the door to inquire about their relatives, and if the rank is not right, they will not knock on the door to inquire of themselves, which is very much what we Xia people call a door of the same rank.”

    “Well, you see, what is the door clang of our Uncle Aiz Maiti’s house made of?”


    Guide Chen deliberately paused for a bit, very heroically lifted the sheepskin water bag and gave himself a sip.


    Listening to Guide Chen’s words, the three tourists all raised their heads, observing the door clang on the gate, Li Yihan couldn’t help but raise her camera, and quickly “click” twice.


    “The door clang on Uncle’s house is made of iron.”


    Guide Chen was very comfortable bullshitting and continued: “Actually, what I just said is a legend, and I don’t know if it’s true or not, and I don’t know if every family still chooses their in-laws this way, but you guys look at the door clang from this angle, and then look at the mulberry tree in the yard, don’t you think it’s nice and soothing to look at? Right, that’s it, it’s still aesthetically pleasing to look at it this way, so even if life becomes impoverished, you must still live aesthetically pleasing, I believe this is the Uyghurs way of living.”


    Guide Chen’s story was pure nonsense, and the “blind marriage” was similar to the fact that there must be a lapis lazuli stone at tourist attractions elsewhere.


    It’s not a matter of whether it’s true or not, as long as it was something famous in history then Guide Chen would make up stories about it.


    Soon, the Uyghur old man came out with his aunt Guli, along with their daughter-in-law and grandchildren.


    “Xiao Mu, you finally came to see Auntie again, Auntie missed you.”


    Aunt Guli’s chubby figure was particularly amiable, greeting Chen Mu as soon as she arrived, the way she looked as if she was seeing her own child.


    Chen Mu also liked this ethnic mother who had been taking special care of him, crossed his hands flatly in front of her chest copying the Uyghur manners, nodded and bowed, and then said “Salaam” before going forward, took the fat aunt’s hand and said: “Auntie Guli, thank you for asking Uncle Azimaiti to bring me naan and the jam, it was so good, no, I even shared them with my friend, and it wasn’t enough to eat them all, so I had to come to your door.”


    As he spoke, he greeted the elderly Uyghur’s daughter-in-law next to him, calling out “sister-in-law”.


    “It’s good to be here, don’t worry, I and Rai Khan have already been prepared for ages, you can eat as much as you like today, there’s enough rice, naan and  jam for everyone.”


    Aunt Gulli grabbed Chen Mu’s hand tightly and said happily, then seemed to remember Chen Mu’s deceased parents, hugged Chen Mu a bit sadly and whispered softly, “Poor boy.”


    Chen Mu also hugged his ethnic mother, then got to the point and introduced her, “Aunt Guli, these three are my friends who are visiting you today.”


    After getting off the camel, Cheng Zijun and the other three had been silently watching the exchange between Chen Mu and the elderly Uyghur family.


    Although they knew that Chen Mu was familiar with this area, they had no idea that he had such a close relationship with the Uyghur family here.


    Watching the way the Uyghur family treated Chen Mu, a deep impression suddenly arose in their hearts that there was perhaps no other Xia person here who was more familiar with everything here than this kid.


TN: Probably butchered this chapter. However, I do hope you understand it

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