Chapter Two: The First Encounter

When the name Li Hao is mentioned, one might assume he is purely Chinese. However, in reality, he is a bona fide white man. Yes, a genuine white man on the ancient land of the Tang Dynasty in China. He is a member of a delegation from the Byzantine Empire (also known as the Eastern Roman Empire). Many modern people might think the ancient world was isolated, but in fact, carriages were as common as taxis are today, and vast distances did not prevent deep exchanges between nations.

In the bright and beautiful March of my seventeenth year, I met Li Hao for the first time at the horse racing track. At that time, young ladies from noble families were generally not allowed to learn how to ride horses. Traditional women were only to learn the arts of zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting. But I had a general father who doted on me, and because of my extraordinary love for horse riding, I had the chance to secretly practice horse riding in a private horse racing track of a noble family. Time has since flowed by, and I still cannot discern whether I inadvertently stepped into his life's trajectory, or if he silently walked into my fate.

That afternoon, with the gentle sunshine, I practiced horse riding as usual in the private horse track of the noble family. Inside the track, there were only me and my mount, without any disturbance from others. A breeze blew by, and the peach trees around the edge of the track swayed their blossoms, dreamy and fantastic, with petals drifting in the wind like a pink romance.

I was riding my beloved horse, with my hair casually draped over my shoulders. I wore a pink ancient Chinese silk blouse with long sleeves that fluttered in the wind. I let the horse trot slowly, relaxing my body, and felt the hoofbeats and the gentle spring breeze against my face. I hoped to absorb the vitality of spring and the fragrance of peach blossoms into my heart, while releasing all the impurities from within. This was my unique way of communicating with my horse.

As we ran, peach blossoms gradually scattered over the front of the saddle, and the sunlight cast a warm glow on me and my horse. I thoroughly enjoyed the unity with my mount, almost erasing the sorrows of life.

Attempting a new horse-training action, requiring the horse to pivot sharply in place, I danced confidently with my horse, smiling. This needed skill and rapport, but I knew that repeated practice had made such a difficult action no longer a challenge for us.

My horse and I worked seamlessly as a team, believing that no matter the challenge, we could handle it with ease—until I encountered a group of unexpected figures.

 I could see my father and a group of Western Region diplomats walking and talking, laughing heartily from time to time, heading towards the horse track. At the same time, I caught a glimpse of a tall, serene Western Region knight among them, with extraordinary demeanor. The white figure of that Western Region knight was like a beam of exotic light entering my vision. He was an extraordinary presence that caused ripples of unknown feeling in my heart.

I habitually reined in my horse, surprised by these uninvited guests. The horse track was a secret paradise agreed upon by my father and me; how could outsiders break in?

 Regarding the group of strangers brought in by my father, I felt a bit uneasy but also curious. Their eyes, which I found familiar—peaceful with hidden waves, blue eyes that under the sunlight showed an amber hue. Their gaze transitioned between curiosity, enthusiasm, and unfamiliarity, finally settling into a peaceful indifference.

Especially during the brief encounter with that Western Region knight's gaze, I suddenly felt a detached tenderness, his reluctant smile seemed to conceal faint coldness.

 "Mei'er," my father called, his voice deep and resonant, saying my name as if the world around us had quieted down. As he called me, he explained to the delegation why I was practicing horse riding at the racetrack. Fortunately, it is customary for women from their homeland to ride horses, which made the explanation rather straightforward.

I noticed the Western Region knight, who blinked lightly at that moment, the kind of grace rare among men naturally displayed in his demeanor. His features were sharply defined, and his white robe made his fair skin appear all the more translucent, and the sun brought out the chestnut depth in his red hair, further ingraining his noble allure in my mind.

As they approached, my father was the first to come over - I took a small step back. But he simply brushed a peach blossom petal off my shoulder and then said to the members of the delegation, "This is my little girl. She has been different from ordinary girls since she was young, especially fond of horse riding. Mei'er, come here and meet the dignitaries."

I was momentarily stunned and then regained composure, stammering, "I am Mei'er, and it is an honor to meet all the dignitaries here." Seeing my awkwardness, everyone laughed heartier, but I didn't know what to do other than to retreat to the side of the crowd.

At the same time, I saw the Western Region knight standing nearby, coming into my world with a demeanor of cultured grace, his every casual greeting seemed to ripple through my heart.

In the end, he inquired about my situation with horse riding, and I couldn't help feeling a burst of joy. At the racetrack bathed in spring light, I felt as if I had crossed the bounds of time and space, meeting this knight from the distant Western Regions, as if fate and reincarnation converged at this moment.

 I joined the delegation, walking along and listening to their discussions. It was a March day when the spring breeze was intoxicating, and all things were reviving. The peach blossom racetrack of the Tang Dynasty was stirring with the warmth of the sun. We strolled in the racetrack with the horses, totally immersed in this land filled with the scent of earth and grass.

 As I walked, I observed him. Clad in a white robe, he seemed like a knight straight out of the Dunhuang murals, both foreign and familiar. His demeanor carried a mix of serenity and authority, a charming smile as if he scattered stars among the common world.

He asked me when I started learning horse riding, and I hesitated about how to explain to this ancient man that, in fact, I learned my riding skills at the Riverdale Equestrian Centre in the Bronx, New York, a thousand years in the future. Yet, I felt that if I did say this, he would surely reveal the same curiosity and puzzlement upon hearing such an unusual term.

 Faced with his question, I could only explain that I had been practicing riding with my father since the age of nine due to a frail constitution. He nodded in wonder, revealing a doting smile.

I couldn't help but ask why he had come to the Tang Dynasty, and he introduced himself as Jim, saying he had recently arrived from the Eastern Roman Empire following the delegation, traveling by horse for a year to reach this Eastern nation. Hearing his story, I was amazed at the perseverance of people in ancient times. The Eastern Roman Empire was the Byzantine Empire, right? As far as I knew, during its golden age, it was ruled by Emperor Heraclius, followed by his descendants. Was he from that mysterious place? What kinds of stories had he brought from such a distant land?

"After arriving in the Tang Dynasty, the Emperor was so astounded by our endurance to come from thousands of miles away; he felt we were like his family and thus, bestowed upon me the surname Li, calling me Li Hao. You can just call me Li Hao from now on," he said, placing his hand on his robust chest with every bit the grace of blooming lotus flowers. Hearing his words, my heart raced, and my cheeks flushed.

His eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky, and his tone was rich with unspoken emotions, "You are special because few women in this country practice horse riding." His words were like a soothing breeze brushed past me, reminded me of my own story, and I laughed out loud involuntarily, finding this ancient knight truly endearing.

He exuded a certain charisma that was extraordinary and captivating. The magnetism he possessed made it impossible to look away, and I wondered, "Some people are born to be the focus of the world, some are like unnoticed colors in the background of a painting. What, then, will I become?"

On this beautiful spring afternoon, my unexpected encounter with the Western Region knight on the racetrack seemed to herald a change in my world because of him.