Driving east from Kuytun, Li Long sped down the road in his Jeep toward the sunlight and soon entered No-Man's Land.
The newly risen winter sun wasn't dazzling. There wasn't a cloud in sight, yet the sun seemed veiled in gauze. Only as it rose higher and the sunlight grew stronger, reflecting off the snow, did it become a little uncomfortable on the eyes.
Li Long took out his sunglasses and put them on as he drove. Looking ahead, he couldn't see a single vehicle for more than ten kilometers. The road was empty and clear.
Only when he was nearing Anjihai did the first vehicle appear. A truck charged toward him at high speed, churning up a gust of snow. As it passed his Jeep, its slipstream made the Jeep sway.
Li Long swore, narrowed his eyes, and continued driving.
Another truck approached. This driver was decent enough to slow down deliberately as they passed. Quite courteous.
He passed several small restaurants, with people calling out by their entrances. It was only a little after eleven, and Li Long wasn't hungry, so he kept going without stopping.
He entered No-Man's Land again, then spotted a herd of Mongolian gazelles wading through the snow ahead. A few had already crossed the road to the south and were frolicking in the snow, a few stood on the road, and several more were in the snow to the north, preparing to cross.
They were fifty or sixty meters away, and they reacted differently when they saw Li Long. Those north of the road abandoned the crossing, turned, and ran back. Of the ones in the middle of the road, one headed north and two headed south. But those already on the south side seemed completely unaware of any danger and continued playing