The one I love is a hero of unmatched greatness. He stands tall and is the bravest soldier in the army.
He taught me to ride and shoot, helped me study medicine, and showed me that a woman can live on her own without relying on anyone else.
He tended every flower and tree in the princess’s residence and repaired every room, building us a little home in the Northern Frontier.
Then an upheaval came, and we were separated.
When we met again, we stood on opposite sides.
He would never again hunt a snow wolf king and bring me its tooth as a charm just because I’d joked about it. And I would never again copy Buddhist scriptures by the dim light of an oil lamp, over and over, begging Buddha to trade my good fortune for his safety. No one will remember that at the foot of the Tianshan Mountains, we once held a wedding, paid our respects to Heaven and Earth and to our elders, and entered the bridal chamber hand in hand amid the cheers and teasing of the crowd.
Our past together was buried long ago in the windblown sand of Shayuguan ten years ago, and in the torrential rain that fell on the Forbidden City ten years ago.
