Chapter 157: A Laugh in the Vast Sea (Request Follow)

When Qin Yun arrived at the Quanshui Lake Level-One Public Security Checkpoint, commonly known as Siren Gou, it was already 6: 0 p. .

But the high-altitude sun set late; the checkpoint was still brightly lit, and had the weather been clear, it would have offered a breathtaking view of a sky painted with sunset.

Standing on the highway outside the checkpoint, Qin Yun smiled and said: "Friends, this is China's highest-altitude national highway public security checkpoint, known as the 'Forbidden Zone within the Forbidden Zone.' Public security officers, special police, and border defense soldiers are stationed here year-round, guarding the 'Northern Gateway' into Tibet from Xinjiang."

"Many may wonder why it's called Siren Gou. In the 1950s, our PLA's advance detachment camping here during the Tibet campaign suffered heavy losses due to extreme altitude, freezing temperatures, and thin air—many soldiers died from altitude sickness and hypothermia. The name Siren Gou carries deep tragedy."

After Qin Yun's explanation, many viewers in the live stream fell silent with solemn respect.

They had thought it was just a name—now they realized it held a heavy history.

Qin Yun continued: "The altitude here is extreme—not just in winter, but year-round. Winter temperatures can plunge to minus forty-five degrees Celsius. Just imagine. And yet, in this barren land where no grass grows and no birds fly, our public security forces and soldiers remain stationed here."

As he spoke, a group of seven or eight people burst out from inside the checkpoint.

Two of them were Meng Hai and Li Shang, whom he'd seen earlier.

The others ranged from young to old, each face weathered by wind and frost, deeply moving to behold.

The raw, rugged aura radiating from them made even just looking at them feel like witnessing the extremity of the environment.

Several of the older ones had lips nearly purple-black—environmental hardship had severely damaged their bodies.

"A-Ye!"

Meng Hai called out. Qin Yun waved, and immediately walked forward to meet them.

After greeting, shaking hands, and introductions, the checkpoint's chief held Qin Yun's hand tightly, visibly moved: "Young Brother Qin, I don't even know how to thank you. If not for you, Kangba Pingcuo wouldn't have made it."

"Chief Jiang, it's my duty—within my ability, I couldn't refuse. Compared to you all holding this post year after year, what I did means nothing." Qin Yun looked at the middle-aged man—forty-something but appearing over fifty—and felt a deep swell of emotion.

Jiang Ping said: "If not for your live stream along the Xinjiang-Tibet route, the medicine would've arrived too late—Kangba Pingcuo's condition would've worsened irreversibly. This is real, tangible gratitude, Young Brother Qin—you've earned it."

Qin Yun disliked formalities. He laughed: "It just means fate spared him. Hahaha."

"Hahaha, true enough." Jiang Ping pointed inside. "Come on, the mess hall's ready—food's been waiting. Let's eat well today."

Qin Yun quickly replied: "Chief Jiang, I haven't even gone through routine inspection yet—we can't break the rules. Everything must follow procedure."

Meng Hai added: "I'd forgotten too, A-Ye. Come on, I'll check you."

"Look at me, getting old and forgetful." Jiang Ping patted his head and laughed. Everyone gathered around Qin Yun and escorted him inside for inspection.

Normally, those entering Tibet bring vehicles and cargo—inspection takes time. But Qin Yun carried little; a quick identity match and a glance at his backpack sufficed.

After inspection, Qin Yun pulled the camera back, including the checkpoint personnel in frame.

"Hello everyone, I'm Qin Yun. This is my first day on the Xinjiang-Tibet route. I've crossed deep snow, witnessed snow leopards hunting bharal, picked up a dark-bellied snow partridge, taken a few spills, and arrived safely at Tianshuihai Garrison."

"I've completed my mission to deliver medicine to Quanshui Lake Checkpoint. The entire 140-kilometer journey was dangerous but uneventful. Now, it's time to say goodbye. See these people behind me? They're the public security officers at this checkpoint. It's because they serve the people, combat crime, and safeguard our safety that our borders remain stable."

"Alright, friends, same time tomorrow—8 a. ., don't be late."

The comment section flooded instantly, gifts raining across the screen.

"I remembered when I crossed the Xinjiang-Tibet route last time—I suffered severe altitude sickness. A police officer gave me an oxygen bottle and brewed me ginger tea. I'll never forget it."

"The most lovely people."

"Thank you, police officers at the checkpoint."

"The Xinjiang-Tibet route is beautiful, but behind it stand countless soldiers like those at Quanshui Lake Checkpoint, silently guarding."

Qin Yun ended the stream, packed up the drone, and followed everyone to the mess hall. As Jiang Ping said, the meal was ready. As the man everyone thanked, Qin Yun was forcibly seated at the head of the table.

"Hahaha, Young Brother Qin, if drinking weren't banned here, I'd drink you under the table today. Come on, everyone—let's raise water as wine and toast to Young Brother Qin. May your career flourish!"

"Come on, A-Ye…"

Everyone gathered around, raising their cups to Qin Yun—the atmosphere was lively.

After eating and drinking, everyone dispersed, returning to their posts.

Jiang Ping and Meng Hai took Qin Yun on a tour of the checkpoint.

"Our jurisdiction spans over ten thousand square kilometers—roughly one-tenth of Zhejiang Province. Most of it is uninhabited, with no communication, no rescue access. Every patrol is a test of life and death."

Jiang Ping spoke calmly, but Qin Yun was deeply shaken.

Ten thousand square kilometers, with fewer than thirty men on duty—patrols must last for months. And they face extreme weather, vehicle breakdowns, at any moment.

They reached the duty building. Meng Hai grinned: "It used to be worse. Now conditions are better. Before, we ate frozen meals, drank melted snow. Now, at least every meal is hot. But the environment still causes tooth loss, hair loss, altitude sickness."

He rubbed his bald head, helpless.

"We get supplies every one or two months—transportation's a nightmare. Just getting supplies here is a challenge."

After touring the checkpoint, they entered another room and met the medicine recipient—Kangba Pingcuo.

He remained unconscious, pale, but breathing steadily—vital signs stabilized.

"Kangba Pingcuo is still an intern—only twenty-three," Jiang Ping said, looking at the young man on the bed. "He's so young. If he hadn't made it, I wouldn't know how to tell his parents."

Qin Yun said nothing. This place was hard enough. The old station chief had become both father and mother—no wonder he was exhausted.

For others passing through, rest was allowed—but sleeping in a bed? Impossible.

But tonight, Qin Yun not only slept in a bed—he had oxygen and heating. Lying down, the abundant oxygen intoxicated him. He slept soundly until dawn, refreshed and clear-headed.

Early next morning, he washed up.

After enjoying the checkpoint's breakfast, Qin Yun stood before a red stone stele and asked Meng Hai to take his photo.

The stele bore the inscription: "Challenge Siren Gou—Only Quanshui Lake."

Then he stood with the checkpoint soldiers for a group photo. He even went to Kangba Pingcuo's bedside and took a photo with him, then sent all the pictures to Meng Hai.

The checkpoint had signal—weak, intermittent—but better than nothing.

Saying goodbye, Qin Yun, Jiang Ping, and Meng Hai walked to the highway before the checkpoint.

"Young Brother Qin, safe travels."

"Yes, A-Ye, if I get signal, I'll watch your stream."

Qin Yun waved and smiled: "Chief Jiang, Brother Meng, I'm off. When you next rotate posts, let me know—I'll come visit."

Watching Qin Yun power up the drone, speaking his opening lines as he moved forward.

Jiang Ping sighed: "Today's youth are incredible—walking across the Xinjiang-Tibet route."

"No one else could." Meng Hai rubbed his bald head, the cold biting, yet grinning: "Only Qin Yun."

…

From Quanshui Lake Checkpoint, the next landmark is the second-highest point on the Xinjiang-Tibet route—Jieshan Daban, at 5, 47 meters.

The entire stretch is a continuous uphill climb, paved with asphalt—so for Qin Yun, walking was effortless, as easy as a spring hike.

"Looking at A-Ye, you'd think he's out for a spring stroll."

"666—spring stroll at minus thirty degrees."

"I've been there. That 15-kilometer stretch climbs from 5, 00 meters to 5, 47 meters—oxygen drops below 35% of sea level. Without preparation, altitude sickness is guaranteed."

"A-Ye shows zero signs of altitude sickness—he looks like he's drunk on oxygen."

"Hahaha, I'm laughing till I cry."

Qin Yun glanced at the comments and said calmly: "Don't be fooled by my easy pace—this stretch is steep, continuous incline. It's a brutal test for vehicle power and driver endurance. Gasoline vehicles here suffer severe power loss. For you, these are manageable—but the real struggle is altitude sickness: headaches, breathlessness, nausea. Whether coming from Shiquanhe or Xinjiang, always acclimatize first."

"Hey… A-Ye, what's that sticking out of your backpack? Looks like a bamboo flute?"

Qin Yun reached behind, pulled out the bamboo flute, and waved it before the camera: "It's a bamboo flute."

He'd bought it in Urumqi, played it once, then stuffed it in his pack.

"Play something! We've seen A-Ye play the erhu—never heard him play the flute."

"2333, A-Ye knows music too?"

"Damn, so talented."

"Play, A-Ye! The Great Lord has a reward."

"Fengliu Jie gifted the streamer ten Carnivals—A-Ye, play a tune."

"Deng Chao gifted the streamer one Carnival—allocated some budget, A-Ye, play a tune."

"Chen He gifted the streamer ten Carnivals—Chao, you're embarrassing yourself."

"..."

Seeing the bamboo flute, viewers' enthusiasm exploded—gifts flooded the screen.

Qin Yun chuckled: "Thank you, Fengliu Jie, Chao Ge, He Ge..."

After thanking everyone, he didn't hesitate.

"Since you insist, I'll play 'A Laugh in the Vast Sea.' My playing's rough—bear with me."

He placed his fingers on the flute's holes, raised it to his lips.

Then, he drew a deep breath—and a clear note leapt from the flute, like a pebble dropped in water, sending ripples outward. Then came a cascade of notes, surging like a river, rolling like endless mountains.

The sound didn't feel like it came from the flute—it seemed to rise from the sky, the sea, the ethereal void itself.

In an instant, the live stream was silenced.

"Holy shit, A-Ye really knows how!"

"Amazing! This is over five thousand meters—A-Ye, you sure you're okay? Don't pass out from oxygen lack mid-song."

Qin Yun's focus was entirely on the flute.

When he'd received this reward, he'd known—he was already unmatched in bamboo flute. The players on Douyin? He could hear every flaw in a single listen.

This was mastery—technique approaching Dao. Not yet Dao, but close.

As the melody shifted, the tune grew more lyrical, spreading through the icy wind. The flute's tone was clear, vast, powerful—no embellishment, each note pure and resonant.

A profound sense of freedom quietly radiated outward.

The music was clean, transparent, echoing across the empty heavens—opening the heart, dissolving worldly troubles, grudges, and grievances into the sky, leaving only ease, only integrity.

The final note faded, yet its echo lingered in the wind—unfulfilled, the spirit still soaring.

The live stream exploded:

Fuck fuck fuck, awesome, his crown jewel just flew off.

666, six dead, Master Qin is just too good.

This is the most badass version of "A Laugh in the Vast Sea" I've ever heard.

It gave me goosebumps all over—playing this in a place with endless horizons? Pure magic.

Play it again, I strongly demand you play it again.

Damn it, is there anything Master Qin can't do?

Song Ya, far away in Beijing, stared dumbfounded at the man in the video, then a deep resentment rose within her.

Thus, during Qin Yun's journey—blowing his flute intermittently, chatting as he played—he saw that metal boundary marker with its blue background and white characters.

"Jieshan Daban, altitude 5347m, fresh air, easy breathing, hahaha."

At this moment, the time was 11: 3 a. .