Drawing Near to This "Lake" Without a Lake, Students Come to Understand What It Means to Be Ordinary and Extraordinary
In Search of Nameless Lake: Drawing Near to You, Becoming You
■ Wang Ensheng, Li Kunze, PLA Daily Special Correspondent Li Xuewen
Not long ago, the officers and soldiers of the Tibet Military District's Nameless Lake (无名湖) outpost received a special "Dragon Boat Festival greeting" — fourth-grade students from Chongqing's Huayu Experimental School had written letters of condolence to the heroes in their hearts in childlike handwriting, and tucked inside the packages were drawings the children had made themselves.
The outpost soldiers sent back a unique gift in return: paper粽子 (zongzi) shapes folded from colored paper, each containing a border-defense stone inscribed with a blessing. These "stone zongzi" crossing mountains and seas connected the plateau and the mountain city with warmth.
Soldiers inscribing border-defense stones.
At 4,520 meters above sea level, Nameless Lake Outpost has no lake scenery — only year-round snow that never melts, howling cold winds, and a rugged patrol route. Known as the "cloud-top outpost," the patrol road leading from the outpost to its duty positions winds along sheer cliffs with an elevation change of nearly one thousand meters. For those setting foot on this road for the first time, every breath is a dual test of body and will; for the soldiers who stand guard here, this road leads not only to a geographic coordinate, but to a spiritual high ground.
Because it is arduous, it is cherished. Today, more and more people are finding ways to seek out this "lake" without water. Students from primary schools, middle schools, and universities across the motherland, carrying reverence for border defense soldiers and longing for plateau military camps, cross mountains and seas through screens and measure snow-capped mountains with their footsteps, building one beautiful "rainbow bridge" after another between the frontier and the campus.
Resonating because of shared frequency, burning because of longing. In the process of drawing near to Nameless Lake, students come to understand what it means to be strong and resilient, what it means to be ordinary and extraordinary, and arrive at a deeper understanding of the choices that lie ahead.
— The Editors
Cloud-Top Connection · Childlike Warmth at the Frontier
"Classmates, the place where I am standing right now is the Nameless Lake Outpost in Tibet. There is no lake here. In the early days when the outpost was established, there was a small pool of water nearby, and the older generation of soldiers entrusted their longing for water to the outpost's name — that is how 'Nameless Lake' came to be."
Inside the company's study room, a 5G signal tightly links Nameless Lake Outpost with Xinxiang Primary School in Xiamen, thousands of li away, as a video call is underway.
On this side of the screen, company medical officer Zhang Hongzhi holds a national flag and introduces it solemnly: "This flag comes from the capital, Beijing. In 2018, the former company commander received it from the Tiananmen National Flag Guard. Every year on important holidays such as July 1st and August 1st, the patrol detachment carries this flag to the duty positions to take an oath."
Company medical officer Zhang Hongzhi introduces traditions to primary school students via video link.
On the other side of the screen, more than a hundred primary school students are rapt, their eyes bright. "Uncle, do you miss home?" One childlike question instantly silenced both ends of the screen. Company Commander Kang picked up the thread: "We miss home! But this is also our home — look—" He turned the camera toward the window, where majestic snow-capped mountains loomed in the distance and the national flag snapped in the wind. "Wherever the national flag flies, that is home."
After the call ended, the children sent in their drawings one after another. There were snow-capped mountains, national flags, and suns; some drew a stretch of blue and wrote beside it in crooked strokes: "Uncles, we give you this lake." Each drawing carried the children's respect for the border defense soldiers.
The honor room preserves the students' drawings.
A beautiful "rainbow bridge" leads to Nameless Lake. On the playground of Luoyang's Anhuilu Primary School, teachers and students stood in neat formation; before the sentry post at Nameless Lake Outpost, soldiers stood tall. At the same moment, the Five-Starred Red Flag rose at both locations; on both sides of the screen, childlike voices and resonant voices sang together. When the children saw on video the soldiers' upright figures standing guard at the summit of the snow-capped mountains, applause broke out spontaneously.
Students of Luoyang's Anhuilu Primary School raise the national flag at the same time as outpost soldiers via video link.
A warm current of childlike sincerity surges across the mountains and rivers of the motherland. Early this year, first-grade student Zhu Zifu of Hefei's Huangshan Road Primary School cut out a picture of a galloping horse with small, clumsy hands and sent New Year's blessings to the outpost. More than a month later, the school received a special express delivery — the addressee was Zhu Zifu himself, and the sender's address was Nameless Lake Outpost.
When the package was opened, a national flag — used by a patrol detachment to assert sovereignty at a snow-mountain duty position — appeared before the eyes of teachers and students. The outpost soldiers also wrote in their reply: "We will certainly transform Classmate Zhu Zifu's concern into the motivation to take root at the frontier and guard the border with loyalty." One national flag connects a snow-capped mountain with a school campus; one reply letter carries the deep bond between soldiers and the people.
This cross-mountain, cross-sea concern has allowed the seeds of patriotism and support for the military to take root and sprout in students' hearts. Hefei's Huangshan Road Primary School has made the national flag sent from Nameless Lake Outpost a precious teaching material for national defense education.
This spring, students of the school gathered on campus to listen to their teacher recount the story of perseverance at Nameless Lake Outpost. The Five-Starred Red Flag that once flew over the snow-capped mountains now quietly watches over "the flowers of the motherland," silently speaking of the border soldiers' pure love. The spring breeze, wordless, conveys warmth and hope. The "concern" and "motivation" spoken of in the outpost soldiers' reply are transmitted once more to the students through this flag.
Not long ago, fourth-grade children from Chongqing's Huayu Experimental School sent letters of condolence. The letter paper was covered with drawings of dragon boats and zongzi, and the children wrote: "Uncles at Nameless Lake Outpost, did you eat zongzi up on the snow-capped mountains?"
One of the letters was tucked by Company Commander Kang into the side pocket of his pack, accompanying the patrol detachment on the patrol route during the Dragon Boat Festival. In midsummer at Nameless Lake, snowflakes still drifted among the mountains. Beside a windbreak rock, the unit was resting, and Company Commander Kang read the letter aloud to everyone. As they listened, some smiled, some fell silent. Soldier Zhang Zhiyin said: "The children's kindness is sweeter than anything."
In that moment, these soldiers patrolling the snow-capped mountains also came to understand, through the children's innocent words, the value of what they are holding fast to.
Into the Snow-Covered Highlands · Hot Blood Reflected on the Plateau
If cloud-top video links use screens to close the distance across mountains and seas, then a true journey means measuring the rivers and mountains of the motherland with one's own footsteps and writing the story of youthful growth.
Tsinghua University teachers and students present a painting to the outpost.
On the eve of this year's Spring Festival, teachers and students from Tsinghua University came to Nameless Lake Outpost and stood at the outpost's highest point to retouch in red the "Nameless Lake" stone monument. That splash of red amid the vast white snow is the outpost's most brilliant landmark.
"The New Year is almost here — let's retouch the three characters '无名湖' in red together." Hearing Company Commander Kang's words, Tsinghua student Yang Zhihan's hand gripped the brush and trembled slightly. The wind was cold that day, but his heart was burning; he understood how glorious and solemn that moment was.
Company Commander Kang said: "Every stroke of these three characters was carved into this place by generation after generation of soldiers with their youth." Yang Zhihan asked a veteran soldier beside him how long this stone had been here.
The veteran shook his head — he couldn't say for certain: "It was already here when I arrived. It has stood guard here longer than any one of us." Yang Zhihan suddenly understood: this stone had become the spiritual totem of Nameless Lake, the silent comrade-in-arms of every soldier who has ever stood watch here.
When it came time for Tsinghua student Weng Shiyuan to retouch the final stroke of the character "湖" (lake), he pressed especially hard: "I want to make every stroke deeper, so this red can withstand the grinding of wind and snow." Company Commander Kang pointed into the distance and said: "More than 30 years ago, Platoon Leader Zhang Ziyi led his soldiers to carve out this road from a pile of rocks, and in the end he collapsed right beside this stone. When he closed his eyes, he still had a hand-drawn map tucked against his chest…"
The patrol detachment set out from here. Led by the soldiers, the Tsinghua teachers and students stepped onto the wind-and-snow road covered in black ice. The cold wind cut at their faces like a knife, and the hot breath they exhaled instantly froze on their eyelashes. As the altitude kept rising, the feeling of oxygen deprivation grew stronger and stronger. During rest stops along the way, the teachers and students took oxygen bottles passed to them by the soldiers, feeling the biting wind and snow of the snow-capped mountains and also sensing the comradeship forged in life-and-death interdependence.
Outpost soldiers on snow-mountain patrol.
Staff Sergeant First Class Cui Xiangxiang is the most senior soldier in the company, having stood guard at Nameless Lake for more than ten years. He shared with everyone his experience of spending the New Year at Nameless Lake when he first joined: "A table of canned food was the New Year's Eve dinner. In the deep winter when heavy snow sealed off the mountains, mobile phone signals were faint, and letters were the main way to stay in touch with family — we always looked forward to receiving replies as soon as possible."
Tsinghua student Wang Xinru found it hard to imagine "days without internet" and asked directly how they had "gotten through it." Cui Xiangxiang pointed to the distant snow-capped mountains and said: "Look at those mountains — how long have they stood here? We stand guard here, and what we get in return is the peace and tranquility of countless households behind us…" There were no grand words; the plain language was like a stone dropped into a still lake, and the students spontaneously applauded his answer.
Wang Kun, who returned to Tsinghua to study after leaving the military, could feel the full weight of those words even more. He understood that a soldier's persistence and steadfastness means fulfilling with youth — and even with life — the original aspiration and commitment to "carry snow-capped mountains overhead and hold the nation in one's heart." "Glory lies in the ordinary; the difficulty lies in the long duration (光荣在于平淡，艰巨在于漫长)." A teacher had said these words before they set out, and those words now found their true footnote.
Corporal Tian Heng nearly fell off a cliff on his first patrol — it was his squad leader who grabbed his pack straps and pulled him back. He told the students: "The frontier is not guarded by one person alone; it is guarded by a group of people, by generation after generation of people — you pulling me, me pulling you, no one abandoned, no one left behind." These words brought tears to Tsinghua student Liu Rong's eyes: "What is steadfast perseverance? It is that in that unseen distant place, someone is still standing there like a mountain for you."
After more than two hours of trekking, the patrol detachment reached the duty position at over 5,000 meters above sea level. "Unfurl the national flag!" The Five-Starred Red Flag opened in the cold wind. "The place where I stand is China!" Soldiers and Tsinghua students stood shoulder to shoulder and took the oath, their vows ringing out across the snow-capped mountains.
A Spiritual Relay · Youth Pledged to the Motherland
From cloud-top video links to journeys into the snow-covered highlands, a spiritual relay spanning thousands of li is continuing in silence.
Tsinghua student Liu Naifei wrote in her diary: "In the moment I stood at the summit of the snow-capped mountain and took the oath, I suddenly understood what it means to say 'beneath my feet is the land of the motherland, behind me are the lights of countless homes.' Every stone here, every snow-capped mountain, shares a common name — China."
When the patrol ended, the Tsinghua students wrote in the outpost's guestbook: "Today, we walked the road you walk, and only then did we understand the weight of this military uniform." After returning to campus, they organized multiple sharing sessions, bringing the story of standing guard at Nameless Lake into the inner world of more Tsinghua students.
Weng Shiyuan was the first to step up to the podium, displaying the Five-Starred Red Flag that had flown along the patrol route: "I used to not understand what 'pure love, only for China (清澈的爱，只为中国)' meant, until I saw border defense soldiers of similar age to us writing their loyalty with their feet in wind and snow. I understood that every kind of peaceful and undisturbed life has someone bearing the burden for us."
A classmate raised a hand to ask: "Senior, so what do you think we can do?" Weng Shiyuan was silent for a moment, then said: "Do what we are supposed to do, learn the skills we are supposed to learn, be ready at all times — to go to the most arduous places, to go wherever the motherland needs us most!"
Soon, letters from Tsinghua University were sent one after another to Nameless Lake — letters of gratitude, of blessing, and of the respect that had not been fully expressed on the snow-capped mountains.
On the snow-capped mountain, patrolling soldiers gathered in a circle to read the letters. When they read the line "you are the most beloved people in my heart," someone — no one knew who — said: "I also want to thank them, for making me understand that steadfast perseverance is a kind of glory."
Nameless Lake Outpost has a song that has been passed down for many years: "On the mountains here there are no trees, here there are no roads, and in fact Nameless Lake has no lake either — all there is, is fog covering the mountains…" This song has been sung by the soldiers year after year. Now this song has new listeners, new harmonies. Primary school students have added new colors to it with their paintbrushes; university students have set new melodies to it with their footsteps. This "lake" without a lake is being treasured in the depths of more and more people's hearts.
Nameless Lake still has no lake, but the hot blood of youth has gathered into a lake. Nameless Lake still has no trees, but generation after generation of soldiers have stood themselves up as the most upright trees on the motherland's frontier.
Because they understand, they grow. Students from all corners of the country seek out Nameless Lake, draw near to the heroes in their hearts, and become better versions of themselves. When students draw near to the snow-capped mountains, they come to understand steadfast perseverance, come to understand the burning warmth in the words "the place where I stand is China"; when they leave the frontier, they transform that understanding into the road beneath their feet, the books in their hands, and the fire in their hearts.
In midsummer, Nameless Lake still has wind and snow, but the soldiers do not feel desolate. Because up here above the clouds, there are people who miss them, people who warm them, and people who, because of "them," resolve to become "them."
The walls of the barracks at Nameless Lake Outpost are covered with letters, photographs, and drawings from all across the country. The soldiers say these are their most precious spiritual wealth.
Outpost soldiers of Nameless Lake on sentry duty.
(Photos by Zhang Zhiyin and Li Jinquan)