A view of the Paiyike Border Police Station in Taxkorgan Tajik Autonomous County, Northwest China's Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region Photo: Lin Xiaoyi/GT

Nestled deep in the snow-capped peaks of the Karakoram Mountains lies a village known as "Paiyike." In Kyrgyz, "Paiyike" translates to "the highest stone mountain," a fitting name for a land dominated by ice, snow, and biting wind year-round.  

In such a high-altitude, snow-laden frontier, one might assume that the border guards are destined to endure a life of relentless cold and solitude. However, when the Global Times reporter arrived at the Paiyike Border Police Station in Taxkorgan Tajik Autonomous County, Northwest China's Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region, the so-called "lonely outpost" was alive with an unexpected warmth and camaraderie. 

Tourists come to witness this "first outpost of the Pamirs," while local herders frequent its halls, sharing tea and stories with officers during grazing breaks. 

At an altitude of 3,780 meters and overseeing multiple exit routes, the station's officers, through their unwavering dedication to their work, ensure the stability of this vital border region through patrolling, risks prevention, and assisting the local community.

"Every officer here represents 1.4 billion Chinese in safeguarding this land," Peng Mingyou, director at the Paiyike Border Police Station, told the Global Times. "Our presence means that China's borders with Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Tajikistan remain secure, stable, and peaceful." 

Steel in the breeze

Paiyike Border Police Station's patrol convoy surveys the frontier on March 26, 2025. Photo: Lin Xiaoyi/GT

Peng has been stationed at the Paiyike Border Police Station for seven years now, and during this time, he has taken immense pride in the fact that there have been "zero incidents" related to border and criminal cases in his jurisdiction. 

The Wakhan Corridor, a narrow valley located between the Pamir Plateau and the Hindu Kush mountains, stretches 400 kilometers, with about 100 kilometers located within China's borders. The geopolitical situation in the surrounding countries is complex, and the Paiyike Border Police Station stands on the edge of this turbulent landscape, safeguarding the stability of the nation's borders. Where does the confidence of these officers come from?

Police officers from the Paiyike Border Police Station operate a drone during a law enforcement training session on March 25, 2025. Photo: Lin Xiaoyi/GT

The Paiyike Border Police Station faces winds of over six degrees on approximately 300 days a year, yet regardless of how fiercely the gales blow, the Chinese national flag flutters proudly in the wind. Opposite the national flagpole stands a "Battle Flag Platform," built by the officers themselves and serves as an important training ground. "The national flag symbolizes national sovereignty, while the 'battle flag' represents our border defense forces. Together, they stand as the strongest support for this land," Chen Junfei, the station's political instructor, told the Global Times.

Xu Qing, the deputy station director at the police station responsible for border control and daily training, is known as the "iron-faced instructor" on the "Battle Flag Platform." At an average altitude of 4,600 meters along the patrol line, Xu understands that solid police skills are a lifeline. He insists that no detail of training be overlooked. A slight deviation in a firearm handling action or a delay in tactical coordination does not escape his notice.

The "Battle Flag Platform" witnesses both human endurance and technological evolution:  From the initial simple communication devices to the current drone patrol systems, Xu has led the officers in developing a set of effective tactics and strategies tailored to the unique conditions of the plateau.

Police officers from the Paiyike Border Police Station showcase their law enforcement equipment on March 25, 2025. Photo: Lin Xiaoyi/GT

 In addition to honing tactical skills, Xu is equally dedicated to the officers' physical training. Once, the station only had a solitary treadmill, but now, a brand-new gym has become the officers' "new battlefield." 

Initially, the officers were puzzled by Xu's advocacy for "extra training." After enduring the hardships of border duty, they wondered why they needed to train more. Xu patiently explained, "Our training is not just about improving skills; in this extreme environment, a strong physique is the foundation of our survival and combat, the source of strength that supports our perseverance."

Gradually, the officers began to appreciate Xu's good intentions. During their free time, they gather spontaneously without needing to be called. Amid the sounds of clashing equipment, they sweat freely, leaving behind the solitude and hardships of the plateau.

'Planting plants, planting ourselves'

Every new officer at the Paiyike Border Station faces the same soul-searching questions: How do you endure patrols without phone signals? Birthdays without cake? Tears that freeze before they fall? Or a child's innocent question during video calls: "Daddy, why is it always snowing on your phone?"

For the first few questions, he could answer decisively: "I don't care." But when one's four-year-old son, wide-eyed on the video call, says, "Daddy, snow again! Show me more!" a pang of sorrow always stirs within, no matter how tough he is.  

For a long time, Chen struggled to explain to his child that the reason it "always snows" is that the police station where he works and lives is surrounded by mountains, and snow lingers year-round. Here, the frost season lasts from late August to early April, with temperatures plummeting to as low as -39 C.

Now, their video calls have taken a tropical turn. "He always demands to see mangoes and wax apples now," Chen laughs. The improbable answer lies in Paiyike's oxygen-bar greenhouse constructed in 2022 — a 20 C sanctuary housing 17 plants from 17 provinces, each brought and personally planted by officers from their hometowns.

Beyond its reading nooks and tea corners, this glass-encased Eden serves as a video call backdrop — officers proudly show their families the new buds sprouting from the trees or the fruits blossoming from the flowers in the greenhouse.

"We are nurturing greenery from all over the nation," Peng said. "Our comrades often say that while we are planting our own plants, we are also 'planting' ourselves." 

"In this snow-capped Pamir Plateau, every new bud that emerges from our greenery is cherished. Watching them grow taller with each passing day strengthens our resolve to take root in this land, inch by inch," Peng noted. 

Police officers from the Paiyike Border Police Station. Photo: Lin Xiaoyi/GT

Limited force, boundless resolve

At 64, retired officer Maxilaifu Hanbaba still makes regular pilgrimages from the county back to the jurisdiction where he worked — not just to reunite with old friends, but to witness how the Paiyike Border Police Station has transformed.    

Sitting in the greenhouse, the veteran shares with young officers and villagers about his experiences in the 1990s when he worked in the police station: Patrolling on horseback through blizzards, melting snow for drinking water, and huddling around stoves in -40 C winter.

"But we weren't just enduring," Maxilaifu clarifies. With limited personnel guarding Wakhan's vast terrain, officers then lived with nomadic families. "The herders would bring out their best food to host us, and when they transferred their livestock to different pastures, they would often stay at the police station. We always made sure to offer them our dormitory."

This bond between the police and the community has endured since the station's establishment. At the Paiyike Border Police Station, one phrase resonates most with visitors: "Here, police resources are limited, but the strength of the people is boundless." 

"The doors of our station are always open to the public. When we patrol, we make it a point to visit the herders' homes. Whether it's collecting sheep dung, gathering fodder, or transporting winter coal, our officers are ready to lend a hand," Chen said.

Police officers from the Paiyike Border Police Station conduct community visits to engage with local residents, on March 26, 2025. Photo: Lin Xiaoyi/GT

Today, the Chinese section of the Wakhan Corridor is largely designated as a special border control area, requiring a tiered approval process for outsiders to enter. In summer, it serves as grazing land for herders, while in winter, apart from border patrol officers, soldiers, and border guards, only snow leopards and Marco Polo sheep roam the area.

To ensure that distant visitors leave without disappointment and to help them gain a deeper understanding of the region's history and culture, the police station converted its old barracks into a patriotic education center, which opened for free in October 2023. Whenever tourists arrive, the officers take on the role of guides, sharing the stories of this land.

Looking through the place where he once worked, filled with tourists' sticky notes like "geographic heights," "ideological peaks," and "may your youth shine forever," Maxilaifu was deeply moved. 

The hardships of border duty, the warmth of interactions with villagers, and the admiration from tourists have made the Paiyike Border Police Station a place that officers proudly describe as "a place that inspires pride and a place where faith stands tall." 

As the Global Times reporter prepared to leave, officer Hu Naibang sent a message reflecting on his aspirations for the New Year in 2025: "The dust that rises along the patrol routes will ultimately settle into the blooming snow lotus on the border. What we plant is not just the banana lily, but also the faith that takes root in the frontier. We guard not only this corridor but also the enduring echoes of border duty. May the winds of Pamir forever wave this flag; under the starry sky of the Wakhan Corridor, every border guard's story is a heartfelt love letter to our motherland."  

A view of the Paiyike Border Police Station and a convoy of the police station. Photo: Lin Xiaoyi/GT