Fleeting as a White Horse（1）
Last night heralded the first frost.
This morning, the chill carried by the serpentine winds of Qu You cut like a knife.
Behold the scattered stars, a few clustered eastward. The solemn night’s journey begins in the wee hours.
I kneel quietly beside the mirror lake that lies beyond the threshold of mountains and rivers, at Tong Pass.
Staring at the reflection in the water of a lone figure clad in plain linen and lamb’s wool.
I laugh at the person in the mirror, hair white as frost-touched grass.
“Once departed from the Golden Horse Gate, I drift and tumble like a dandelion. Friends and guests scatter day by day, the jade goblet too, stands empty.”
In reflection, during my days as a fugitive seeking refuge in Xiaopei, I too stood anxiously in the chill of pre-dawn gusts.
Only to wait for an eccentric old man with a sallow face, who made me retrieve his shoes from under the bridge thrice.
At the end of the surging waves, two dragonflies embrace, dipping into the water.
I can't help but grimace with a bitter smile, comfortable as if on pins and needles.
It must be admitted, my state of mind is far more restless this time.
Perhaps it’s because I am waiting for someone dear to my heart...?
A beloved who I have not seen for five full years.
That night in the northern palace of Luoyang, he smashed every candlestick in the sleeping quarters to smithereens.
Then, in the ensuing darkness, he took me, again and again, like a man possessed.
Time and again, he would thrust me back into the tattered pile of clothing, crushed beyond recognition, and pose the same query:
"Do you, too, aspire to betray me one day?"
I would shake my head, void of any need for rebuttal.
Not to mention my dynastic heritage of unbending loyalty to the Han, the mere mention of the iron mace hurled at the Emperor's chariot in Bolangsha suffices to eternalize my reputation as a faithful minister through the ages.
The Han forces swept across the four seas, invincible. Southward to Hancheng, westward to Xianyang, pushing north to confront Dai, cornering the enemy in Yingchuan - each was a feather in my cap.
I truly had no cause to demolish this sublime harmonization of fame and fortune.
Yet I was aware, he, hedgehog-like in his distrust, would never easily afford his confidence to anyone.
From the treacherous Cao Wushang to the ambitious King of Qi, eager for power, it seemed heaven was destined to divest him of every person he had ever opened his heart to, teaching the overlord the ways of singular combat.
"Liu Bang," during those brief respite from relentless torments, I calmly spoke his name for the first time.
The Han ruler, previously resting upon my chest, gasped too sharply and abruptly looked up, yet his eyes remained as clear as the Si River. Silence was his only reply.
"To be an idle spectator, one must first have a mountain to sit upon," I managed a weak smile despite the acute pain below, "But in your case, you are caged alongside tigers - caution is imperative."
Expressionless, he cleared our jumbled long robes, leaving me with a side profile frozen like an ancient painting. The next second, his weight descended upon me once again.
Following my pained, muffled grunt came his barely audible sobs.
"Your ministers wield great power and show little regard for the monarch, yet you must endure; the nation requires their support."
Does a position of lofty power necessarily entail acting at will?
One must remember, "water that bears the boat is the same that swallows it up."
Briefly touching his back, laden with countless unseen burdens, I fleetingly felt as though I was his sole confidant.
"If such outbursts relieve you,"
my hand carefully reached out to the darkness, wrapping around his neck, and I offered an unreserved deep kiss under his transfixed gaze,
"then I willingly bear this heartache."
