When he was seventeen years old, he sneaked into the border of Yuan Kingdom and was blocked by pursuing soldiers.
He was nineteen years old, standing in the dusk, with his back turned to him and said: There is a stone gate in the north, go from there.
He asked: What is your name.
After a long time, a voice came from behind, almost torn apart by the wind.
"... He Changnan."
He didn't know that this sight would last seven years.
Little did he know that there would be four meetings, thirty letters, more than a hundred battles, three years of house arrest, and the last three days.
I didn't know he would be kneeling in the copper hall, listening to the sound of horse hooves getting further and further away.
Little did he know that he would stand on the edge of the rift valley and look east all day long.
I don't know that twenty-two years later, he will hold that hand and say: Never let go.
This is a story about chasing.
A person who has been chasing for twenty-two years and finally caught up with him.
And a person who has been waiting for twenty-two years and finally arrived.
Intention: None
