Follow the song to find the "beekeeper" in "Keketuohai"

It was my second time to go to Keketuohai, and the song "The Shepherd of Keketuohai" had become famous all over the country. "The rain that night couldn't keep you, the wind in the valley accompanied me in crying..." Humming those moving melodies, I once again set foot on the land that means "green jungle" in Kazakh and "blue river bay" in Mongolian. The border town of "Keketuohai" is obviously not small, but it had no name on the map before the 1970s. It is as mysterious and little known as "Khekexili" on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau. This is an area that has been classified as a highly confidential state secret since the founding of the People's Republic of China, but this mysterious forbidden area is actually a paradise located in the Altai Mountains. Keketuohai has the Irtysh River, the only river in my country that flows from east to west into the Arctic Ocean. Due to the magnitude 8 earthquake in 1931, a large canyon nearly 100 kilometers long was formed here. Then go to Keketuohai and stand in front of the majestic Irtysh Grand Canyon. It seems like a silent giant, guarding the tranquility and serenity of this land. On both sides of the canyon, there are many strange peaks and jagged rocks, which seem to tell the changes of the world over billions of years. I once again strolled along the winding Irtysh River. I liked the clear river water sparkling in the sun, like a blue ribbon connecting the scenery on both sides into a beautiful picture. Turning around Eagle's Beak Cliff, the smoke from the shepherd's cooking was drawing dotted lines on the tops of the spruce forest. The flock of sheep was like rolling moonlight across the meadow, startling a group of white-throated warblers, whose wings shook off the pine resin all over the mountain. The apricot blossom paper that was stuffed in the tree hole has long turned into spring mud, but one can still smell the sourness of the apricots when they are about to ripen. When the setting sun laced the Altai Mountains with a golden-rimmed Hada, I scooped a handful of snow water to moisten my throat and tasted the love song that had not yet melted from the depths of the glacier. Before going to Xinjiang, someone asked me to go to Nalati to look for the "beekeeper girl", but I wanted to meet "her" who came back by chance in Keketuohai. Could she be the girl singing in the title photo? "No one can sing a song as moving as you. There is no beautiful girl that I can't forget. The wine I brew can't make me drunk, but the song you sing makes me drunk."