The night was deep, and after a day of exhaustion, Xiulote fell asleep beneath the starry heavens.
Dreams beneath the stars were always bright and resplendent. The Milky Way of the Middle Ages swirled with countless shining stars, much like the era's great figures emerging one by one in his dreams, carrying the distant combat and cries. That was until the immense Clark Sailing Ship came over from the horizon, and amid the booming cannons, the pale-skinned and yellow-skinned gunners exchanged fire at sea and shore, East and West. Then, the young man suddenly awoke.
He opened his eyes wide to the sky above. The morning star Qiming shone on the horizon, dawn light touched upon the East, and the God of Death had already escorted the sun, traversing the long darkness, once again rising in the sky, bringing light to this land!
Xiulote lay upon the soft dry grass, quietly watching the sunrise, inhaling the scent of withered grass mixed with salt.