Before long, the leader of these Kazakh border guards, a guy named Akasov, came over.
He had a large pipe in his mouth, took the introduction letter from Situ Yan, glanced at it, and laughed, "This is Mural's handwriting, that old guy. My friendship with him goes back over fifteen years. How's he doing now?"
Situ Yan replied in fluent Kazakh, "He's doing well. Just last night, he mentioned you, Colonel Akasov! He said that for the great Kazakh border, you've been guarding it for many years, making it as impregnable as a fortress. In our Chinese expression, you are like a hero who holds the pass against ten thousand men!"
Akasov laughed heartily, clearly pleased with the compliment. "Beautiful girl, you really know how to talk. How are you related to Murali?"
