Through the windshield, Xi’an’s Bell Tower rose ahead of us, illuminated against the night.

Horns and engines competed in the streets below as drivers fought through traffic.

Months of planning had gone into this trip. Weeks of adventure lay ahead. Yet it wasn’t the Bell Tower I found myself looking at.

In the taxi’s rearview mirror, I saw my wife. Just one eye—big, round, and alive—the other hidden behind the sweep of her blond hair. She caught me staring.

She smiled.

“What are you looking at?”

I didn’t look away.

Then I reached for her hand, and we continued into the city.