Your City, My Western Regions

Pressured into marriage, Lin Shan was lured into a sham marriage, then driven to desperation by a scam. At dusk in the ancient city of Kashgar, she slit her wrists.

When she woke, the first things she saw were a military uniform button bearing a five-pointed star and a pair of trousers with sharply pressed creases.

“Is a sunset in Kashgar more important than your life?” Chen Yuan asked, offering her a naan. The scent of wheat mingled with the wind from the Kunlun Mountains.

She lowered her eyes and saw the frozen soil of the Pamir Plateau beneath his fingernails: a solid, grounded life she had never known.

He led her through the poplar forests on the edge of the Taklamakan Desert, and taught her to find the Big Dipper beneath the snowline of Muztagh Ata.

Then, one early morning, her phone vibrated, and his hoarse voice came through: “Don’t be afraid. I’m on my way.”

Outside the door stood Chen Yuan, covered in sand and dust. In his palm, a hairpin carved from poplar wood had grown scorching hot:

“Lin Shan, the moon over the borderlands wanes and waxes again. Will you… watch it become whole with me a hundred times?”