The Hero Who Chased the Sun

The wanderer's tassel is tied around his cap; his Wu hook gleams like frost and snow. This is my first wuxia story, and I welcome your corrections.

His silver saddle lights up his white horse, which flashes by like a shooting star.

He kills a man every ten paces, and leaves no trace after a thousand miles.

When his business is done, he brushes off his clothes and leaves, hiding his name and whereabouts.

He idly visits Xinling to drink, his sword laid across his knees.

He eats roasted meat with Zhu Hai and raises his cup to Hou Ying.

After three cups, he gives his solemn word; even the Five Sacred Mountains seem weightless beside it.

His eyes grow hazy and his ears flush, but his noble spirit shines like a white rainbow.

He saved Zhao with a golden hammer, stunning Handan first of all.

For a thousand years, the two heroes' fame has blazed through Daliang.

Even in death, a hero's bones retain their fragrance; he has no shame before the greatest heroes of the world.

Who can write his story beneath the library tower, with white hair and the abstruse classics for company?

This is my first wuxia story, and I welcome your corrections.