Han Yu parked the police car in the yard of Zhang Erxiao's warehouse, put on a cotton coat, donned a helmet and gloves, and rode on the light motorcycle that had been specifically brought back from Yingchuan Port the day before yesterday, hurrying to a sand and gravel yard about one kilometer from Changbei Bridge.
This sand and gravel yard located by the river is owned by the Transportation Bureau and has six bungalows, with a sign for the Road Maintenance Team hanging at the entrance.
A year ago, any passing car would drag along a long and thick trail of yellow dust, and road maintenance workers, gripping brooms made of bamboo branches of various thicknesses, would stoop and laboriously sweep the stones bounced to the sides of the road by car tires back to the middle.
