Ruínas das Nove Horas
Nas profundezas do Corredor de Hexi, quando tempestades de areia negra varrem o deserto de cascalho, diz-se que uma loja chamada "Mercado das Nove Horas" aparece. Às nove da noite, soam nove sinos de camelo e, para quem tiver a sorte de entrar, todos os desejos podem se realizar. Ao longo de milênios, o vento e a areia do Corredor de Hexi encobriram a antiga prosperidade da Rota da Seda, afundaram as ruínas das cidades antigas com murais e ocultaram ainda mais os segredos do Mercado das Nove Horas... Qiao Ruyi brincava com o bracelete Shenqing que serpenteava pelo seu pulso pálido, sorrindo levemente com as sobrancelhas arqueadas: "Desta vez, serei eu a desfazer este jogo." Xing Lin respondeu: "Prefiro me transformar em areia do que permitir que você caia novamente nesta armadilha."
Ruínas das Nove Horas
Sunan, Gua County
When Qiao Ruyi closed her umbrella, black sand trickled down from its folds. The weather in the northwest remained fickle even in late April; the wind swept up sand, brushing coldly against the hem of her cheongsam. She tightened her shawl, brushed the worn red plastic chair, only to find her fingers stained with black grains. Above, the painted seven-colored deer on the parasol had been blurred by the dust.
At the next table, two rugged northwestern men sat with a plate of liangpi, a large bowl of mutton bones, and a bottle of local spirits. They glanced her way, muttering, “Doesn’t this lass feel cold at all?” Then resumed their conversation—
“Guess what? It was a shadow!”
“Really?”
Qiao Ruyi glanced across the street after sitting down. There stood a shop, the two floors in stark contrast. The ground floor had floor-to-ceiling windows, painted with coffee swathed in celestial ribbons, and a slogan beside: “Wish-fulfilling Special Blend, quantum extraction, where wishes collapse in the first sip.” The second floor was traditionally Chinese—main ridge, eaves, brackets all intact, though three ridge beasts were missing. A brown wooden plaque bore the words: “Wish Fulfilled.” Below it hung a bronze camel bell, which, though swayed by the wind, made no sound—perhaps it was broken.
Gua County was a small enclave, hemmed in by the Gobi and ancient walls—a speck on the ancient Silk Road deep within the Hexi Corridor, yet a strategic throat. In tourist season, the night market bustled with visitors from all over, the cries
