Seven years ago, I married Fu Nansheng, thinking I was marrying for love. For seven years, he and Lin Zhaozhao had no idea. I kept my marriage in name only and finally waited for the train heading west. Following my brother's footsteps, I went to meet my sister-in-law who had persisted for fourteen years in the wind and sand of Western Xinjiang. Perhaps she was one of the few people in the world who still cared about me.
