In the remote village of Dizhengdang, deep in the Dulong River valley, 39-year-old Li Yuhua balances multiple roles that keep her community running. As a forest ranger, a village grid worker, and an inheritor of Derung blanket weaving, her daily routine is the lifeblood of grassroots governance in this corner of southwestern China.

"When something happens in the village, people usually come to me first," Li said. "If it is a small problem, I try to solve it. If I cannot, I contact the police."

Along the Dulongjiang border, protection does not always come in uniform. Sometimes it is Li walking through the forest to check for fire risks. Sometimes it is a visit to an elderly neighbor. Sometimes it is a quiet effort to settle a family dispute before it grows.

Her mother, Li Wenshi, 84, is one of the few remaining Derung women with facial tattoos. The blue-black lines on her face are a mark of an old custom that has disappeared. They also carry the memory of a different Dulongjiang.

Together, the mother and daughter show how border governance here is built not only on patrols, but also on trust among villagers, police officers and local officials.

Mark of history

Li Wenshi still remembers the pain of the tattoos.

Her mother, a tattoo artist, used thorns to prick patterns into her face and then colored them with dye. The pain lasted for days. The marks stayed for life.

"When I was little, we lived in wooden houses in the mountains," she said. "We went barefoot in the snow to dig wild roots. We were always hungry and did not have enough clothes."

The Derung people once lived in deep isolation. It was not until 1964 that a narrow mule trail was built, linking the valley to the outside world.

Li Wenshi first left the mountains along that trail. In 1968, she walked for 11 days to the seat of Nujiang Lisu autonomous prefecture to attend a meeting as a representative of Derung women.

A rough road reached Dulongjiang in 1999, but winter snow and long rainy seasons still cut the valley off for much of the year. In 2014, a nearly 7-kilometer tunnel through the Gaoligong Mountains ended that isolation.

The next year, Li Wenshi flew to Kunming for the first time.

"We drove for a few hours to the airport, and then suddenly we were in Kunming," she said. "That was unimaginable before."

Her family has since moved into a new Derung-style house with a gray roof and yellow walls. The home has a refrigerator, television and washing machine. The village has better roads, public services and mobile networks.

"In the past, once the snow blocked the road, it was very hard to get fresh fruit and vegetables," Li Wenshi said. "Now the market has everything."

Her daughter said daily life has changed just as much.

"When there was no electricity, people went to sleep as soon as it got dark," Li Yuhua said. "Now my mother watches TV news and short videos on her phone as young people do. Sometimes she stays up until 11 pm."

As she spoke, Li Wenshi kept weaving. Her wooden shuttle moved back and forth, and a Derung blanket slowly took shape.

The blanket is an important Derung symbol. It can be worn by day and used as bedding at night. Li Wenshi mixes cotton, wool and hemp to make the blankets softer and more colorful.

"Now we want them to be more beautiful and more practical," she said.

The daughter who stayed

Li Yuhua stayed in the village to care for her parents and later her own child.

Before 2016, her family mainly grew corn. Annual income per person was about 3,000 yuan ($441). That year, she became one of Dulongjiang's first ecological forest rangers. The job brought stable income and allowed her to stay near home.

By day, she patrols forest areas in the Gaoligong Mountain nature reserve. In winter, she checks for fire risks. In the rainy season, she looks for landslide dangers. At night, she returns home to care for her mother and child.

She later became a grid worker in Dizhengdang. She visits families, checks on elderly residents, publicizes policies, mediates disputes and helps with village affairs.

"Arguments between couples or neighbors are often small things," she said. "Usually we try to settle them in the village. If we cannot, we call the police."

Li is also an inheritor of Derung blanket weaving. She has helped local women turn traditional textiles into cultural and tourism products, creating new income sources.

Villagers know her as someone they can turn to. She visits elderly people, brings medicine, helps with errands and cuts hair for seniors who cannot travel easily.

Roads have also changed village life. A road reached the village in 2011, followed by new housing construction. Some families moved down from the mountains.

"After the road came, people's income went up," Li said. "Before, people were mostly self-sufficient. Now life is better, and people can buy things online."

Familiar faces

Trust in Dizhengdang has also grown through daily contact with the police.

Zhao Keshuang, 38, has served as the village's community police officer since June 2022. A former border soldier, he is responsible for public security, legal education and community policing.

The village has three elderly tattooed women, all key care recipients.

"When we visit households, we pay close attention to their health," Zhao said. "We bring common medicines and check what else they need."

His work often goes beyond policing. He helps villagers collect ID cards, pick up parcels, carry vegetables and handle small matters for those who have difficulty traveling.

Li Yuhua said Zhao is well known in the village.

"He helps solve all kinds of difficulties," she said.

That relationship also impressed Li Su, a 23-year-old trainee police officer from Yunnan. She began working at the Dulongjiang station in February under Zhao's guidance.

She quickly encountered the realities of life in a remote border region: heavy rains, difficult terrain and the challenges of working in a culturally distinct community.

"At first, it was not easy," she said. But over time, she found meaning in the work.

In her first months, Li Su joined patrols, mediation work, document handling and legal education campaigns. School visits left a strong impression.

"When children learn about the law early, it stays with them," she said. "You feel like you're planting something for the future."

She has also joined household visits, helping deliver documents to residents who would otherwise have to travel long distances on difficult roads.

"These small services make a big difference," she said.

She remembers visiting Li Wenshi for the first time.

"She held my hand tightly and tried to speak to me in Mandarin," Li Su said. "She looked so kind. After I learned about the history of facial tattoos, I felt even more for what the older generation had experienced."

On household visits, villagers often offer officers tea and local produce.

"They are very welcoming," she said. "They trust us."

Her mentor, Zhao, often tells her that as long as she treats residents sincerely, they will trust her.

"He knows almost every inhabited place in the township," Li Su said. "Even on weekends, he takes me to remote villages and explains the local situation. Guarding the border is not just about security. It is also about protecting people's lives and well-being."

Trust as protection

In Dulongjiang, village life is not managed by one institution alone. Township officials, village workers, police officers, forest rangers and residents all share the work of maintaining order, helping vulnerable groups and responding to the realities of life in a remote border area.

That overlap is clear in the care given to elderly tattooed women like Li Wenshi.

According to Li Yuhua, county, township and village authorities, along with the local police station, frequently visit these women. Police medical staff conduct regular health checks and provide common medicines. Tourists also occasionally stop by to see them. As a result, their daily lives and elder care are now well supported.

These interactions may seem ordinary, but together they form the texture of governance in the valley. Here, border security is not a distant concept. It is also a document delivered to a villager, a medicine bag brought to an elderly woman, a dispute settled before it worsens, and a young officer learning every road and household.

Ethnic unity here is not an abstract idea. It is built through repeated contact and long-term trust.

Li Yuhua's life shows that clearly. She guards the forest, helps neighbors, cares for the elderly, preserves traditional weaving and works with police and village officials when problems arise. Her mother carries the marks of an older Dulongjiang. She lives in a more connected one.

Between them is a story of change, memory and continuity.

As evening falls, Dizhengdang grows quiet. Smoke rises from kitchens. A phone lights up as a grandson calls home. Somewhere in the village, an officer may still be delivering medicine or checking on an elderly resident before dark.

Back in her home, Li Wenshi sets aside her phone and returns to her loom.

Outside, the valley is no longer isolated. The laughter of children playing after school occasionally echoes through the village. Roads connect places once separated by days of travel. Mobile signals carry voices across mountains that once blocked them.

Inside, the rhythm of weaving continues.

For Li and her family, change is visible everywhere — in their home, their work and their daily routines. Yet some things remain constant: the mountains, the traditions and the quiet persistence of life in the valley.

"As long as I can still do this," Li Wenshi said, running her hand across the woven fabric, "I will keep doing it."