Towards evening, a cloud of dust finally rose up from the road ahead. Two groups of soldiers ran out from both sides of the dusty road and stood in rows until they reached the city gate. The dust gradually dissipated, and a tall maroon horse turned around the distant slope and walked slowly. The man riding on it is wearing armor, wearing a harrier crown on his head, and holding a rein. He is as graceful as a startled dragon, like a dragon descending from the nine heavens, or like a Shura descending to the earth.
He put his head against mine and said softly: "Today or later, I meet this beloved man. Zixi, Zixi, where can such a beloved man be?"
My heart moved, and my heart was filled with love for him. I took his hand and gently held it to my chest: "You are like a rock, and I am like a pampas grass. The pampas grass is like silk, and the rock cannot be moved."