The matter of the cotton fields was a bad start for Zhou Ziang’s journey to Xinjiang.
Zhou Qizheng’s family had a few acres of fields, and Zhou Ziang had specially sought out the town mayor, hoping they would consider their family’s special situation and allocate a few more acres of new cotton fields to Zhou Qizheng, which was the most direct solution to the Zhou Family’s dire living environnt.
After listening, the mayor simply said, "Young Zhou, you don’t know our town’s situation. These past few years, the cotton harvests have been good, Uighurs who can’t find jobs outside are returning in droves, all clamoring for cotton fields. Zhou Qizheng already took those acres, and even defiantly declared in front of the big cotton farr Ahmat, that by the ti his own cotton fields bear peaches, all Ahmat could do is watch enviously."
What he ant was that the Zhou family’s current plight was self-inflicted, no one else to bla.
Having his enthusiasm t with cold indifference was enough for Zhou Ziang, who was not one to give up easily. Afterwards, he visited the Zhou family’s cotton fields nurous tis, analyzing everything from the cotton plants themselves to the soil used for planting cotton, and arrived at the sa conclusion: the soil couldn’t retain phosphorus and potassium, making it impossible to grow good cotton plants.
What baffled Zhou Ziang was that there was talk of soil erosion, but never of fertilizer loss, and with Zhou Qizheng’s few acres experiencing little rain and dry conditions, it wasn’t possible for the fertilizer to be washed away by rain. Could it be that these fertilizers could evaporate into the air?
Watching Uncle Zhou standing dazed on the ridge of the cotton field, just like his father used to, Paridan approached, her face flushed, "Uncle, Daddy says we are moving soon."
Zhou Qizheng didn’t send the soil for testing to Urumqi after hearing about Zhou Ziang’s identity from his wife, who knew he ca from Beijing and even carried a recomndation letter from Director Yu. His words couldn’t be wrong. After wasting so many years and depleting their funds, clutching at "bamboo baskets" of worthless fields, Zhou Qizheng’s heart completely sank.
Those few acres of cotton fields in Uluqosa Town also beca a perpetual regret in his heart.
"Moving? You and your brother should be happy, no one will co to take your brother away anymore. It’s good to move, this place isn’t suitable for you to live," After spending a few days in the town and seeing the attitude of the Uighurs towards the Han people, life must have been hard for Zhou Qizheng’s family. But if they moved to a place inhabited by Han people, these two children with Uighur heritage and their mother who grew up in Uluqosa, could they really adapt?
"No, Uluqosa is the richest region in Xinjiang, right next to Heavenly Mountain, the lting snow nourishes our land every year. We all love this land. Also, you are wrong, Uncle. This land...this land can grow cotton." Paridan always thought that her dad focused all his attention on the cotton fields which was why he seldom spent ti with her and her brother. She was initially quite happy to hear her father say that he would never farm cotton again.
However, she heard her mother crying in the wee hours of the night before yesterday. After Uncle Zhou told her dad that the cotton fields and the nearby land wouldn’t yield cotton anymore, her dad gave up on farming cotton and was considering moving the whole family back to his old hotown, a small town said to be in a faraway place.
Paridan loved Uluqosa just like she loved the freckles on her mother’s nose, even though not many in Uluqosa Town liked her. But she grew up here, the sunshine, the sand, everything here was so familiar. If she left Uluqosa, Paridan would beco like a broken-winged bird or a kite without a string, she wouldn’t be happy.
"Paridan, I am sorry to make such an assessnt about the land that nurtured you, but things really won’t grow here. Leaving this place, the sky outside is vast and high, and you and your family will live better," Zhou Ziang clenched a handful of soil, letting the sandy soil fall back to the ground.
"It’s not true, things can grow here, don’t believe ? Follow ," Paridan picked up her Uighur girl’s dress, and ran towards a high ground behind the cotton field.
The high ground descended into two small dunes connected like cal humps, a common sight in Uruksha Formation, built up by the constant winds blowing sand over the years.
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