Since that day at the Peach Blossom Racetrack, where I first caught a glimpse of that knight from the Western Regions named Li Hao, I vaguely felt that my heart was no longer my own. His figure was as tall and straight as a pine, his gaze as profound and boundless as the distant desert. Even upon returning to my room, his image seemed etched upon my heart, impossible to erase.
Many times, I tried to tell myself that it was just a simple encounter - after all, he was a man from a thousand years past, and in my era, he would have long turned to dust. However, when I sat alone by the window in this world a millennium before my own, I could always fantasize about him galloping across the battlefield, controlling his steed with elegance, and waves of tender feelings would surge in my heart.
I am astonished at how persistently I remember the silhouette of this nearly stranger. I know so little about him, yet I'm completely captivated by his figure and his grace. Amidst the vast sea of people, I search for that moment, that reunion, even though I'm well aware it might be just a dream through time.
On several silent nights, I quietly made my way to the Peach Blossom Racetrack and stood where I first saw him, gazing across the empty grounds bathed in moonlight, imagining him once again walking past me. His figure, like a wild horse breaking free, swiftly as a shooting star, transcended time and crashed into my life, leaving behind a haunting dream.
One day, as I was wandering through the hall, I overheard my father discussing with the steward the organization of an upcoming banquet, to which the Eastern Roman delegation was invited. Hearing this news, I was ecstatically excited yet bewilderingly at a loss, as I could finally see my knight from the Western Regions again.
Through the meticulous arrangements of the dedicated steward, the banquet was set, and the location was none other than the Peach Blossom Racetrack where we first met. To ensure proper lighting in the evening, the steward prepared several large pots filled with pine wood and a pile of spare firewood, enough to burn throughout the night, along with a large quantity of fine wine. Standing amid these preparations by day, I could envision the roaring bonfires and boisterous crowd at the banquet, toasting and dancing merrily.
When night fell and the sky had darkened completely, I, a woman writer from the distant future, donned a brocaded dress, carrying a curiosity beyond the historical records, and stepped onto the path leading to the grand feast. Lanterns swayed gently, and the grass rustled in the wind; under that moonlit sky, my modern soul seemed to resonate with this ancient era.
As several large pots were set ablaze, the night sky was instantly illuminated with a warm glow. The flickering flames and the heat carried by the wind merged into a dance of language, calling every heart to join this passionate gathering. I stood there, somewhat intoxicated, a bit anxious, with a fascination for this interwoven adventure through time rising in the depths of my heart.
I walked around while searching with my gaze for that figure in white.
With the melody of the pipa rising, an ancient and mystical charm enveloped the banquet. The pipa girl's red dress came alive with the dance of her fingertips, her singing spilling into the air with a magic that invoked my initial purpose for traversing through time. Amidst the rhythm of the pipa, I finally found him – that Western Region knight in the corner, his gaze piercing through the crowd, through the firelight, seemingly through the palpitations of my heart.
As the night deepened, and dancers from the Western Regions, specifically the Li Te dancers from Chang'an's Ji Le Fang, took the stage, their delicate feet tapping in rhythm, their sleeves brushing each wisp of wind. Their body language began to tell a tale: of desert winds and sands, of ancient battle drums, and of the homeland seen through the knight's eyes. And there was I, sneakily watching the seated knight in the shadows, deciphering in his gaze the unique loneliness and reminiscence of one who longs for home.
During the brief lull in the banquet, the guests dispersed, some gathering in groups to converse, others leaning on the railing to gaze afar. Aimlessly, I walked to a peach tree, immersing myself in the fragrance of peach blossoms, lost in thought. In a fleeting moment, I caught sight of him again, the knight from the Western Regions, chatting leisurely with others, his tone carrying an air of depth and solemnity.
Suddenly, clear flute music began to play, the notes transparent and dense, akin to a galaxy tumbling from the edge of the sky, flowing gently into my soul. I closed my eyes, letting the flute's tune carry my spirit adrift, imagining the expansive landscapes of the Western Regions, emotions rising and falling with the melody, grand and tumultuous.
Unexpectedly, a brilliant light appeared in the sky. The entire banquet's attention was captured by this dazzling flare. Everyone involuntarily looked up, and so did I.
The light gradually clarified, revealing a giant phoenix ablaze, its wings seemingly consuming the night sky while also casting a warm luminescence. The phoenix, an ancient Chinese symbol of good fortune, held every onlooker spellbound with its noble and mysterious presence. As the phoenix circled in the sky, it issued a sharp, resonant sound, penetrating the night and reaching the heart of every observer.
Filled with wonder, I knew this spectacle was something my own era would never witness. Initially, the phoenix's flame brought no disaster but, conversely, its spectacular sparks seemed to light up people's dreams and hopes, granting the night an unforgettable splendor.
Beneath the phoenix's flight, the night sky was as illuminated as daylight. I saw the joy and astonishment of the people from the Tang dynasty, their eyes not just filled with surprise but also brimming with boundless elation and yearning for the good life. I realized that this banquet, this land, this experience would become the most precious chapter in my writing.
Yet, as fate would have it, the phoenix flew back from the distance, swooping towards the racetrack where the banquet was held, seemingly triggering something akin to a switch as it directly spewed a long flame, sweeping towards the crowd as if seeking vengeance. From initial astonishment and admiration, the crowd's sentiment turned to fear as they searched for places to take cover. I became frightened too. The descending flames, like some burning oil, ignited upon contact with the ground, creating large blazes accompanied by a pungent odor.
In the night sky, a brilliant fire erupted, with falling timber and ashes piercing through the night like a thin veil. The fire, like the talons of a demon, savagely tore through the banquet site. The hot breath quickly spread, suffocating everyone in its path. The urgent ring of alarm bells began to sound, and amidst the rising smoke, everything came to an abrupt halt; an ancient feast turned into a living hell. The fire's light reddened every face, and the previous gentle music and dance now served as a backdrop to the frantic escape. Dancers screamed; the jewels of noblewomen lost their color in the fire; the dignity of scholars and warriors was no longer, as instinct alone drove everyone towards safety.
Driven purely by a single thought: to survive. Embroidered robes were cast aside, golden shoes discarded as if they were worthless, banquet guests pushing and shoving in a chaotic scramble for life. Some were tripped and fell to the ground, crying out for help, with those who fell pushed by the ensuing wave of people, a scene of desperation weaving through the minds of each guest like a nightmare.
In the scorching air, flames ran wild, turning luxurious tents and refined banquet paraphernalia into nothing but fodder for the fire. The sandalwood screens stood merely as kindling at that moment, while the precious pine in the large pots only served to hasten the spread of the flames. Aloft the platform, the entire Eastern Roman delegation faced this irrevocable disaster helplessly, forced to watch their glory turn to ashes.
The horses tethered near the racetrack, too, broke free from their reins and ran about disorderly, adding to the chaos. The flickering flames were reflected on every person's face, as if signaling the apocalypse. I, a time traveler merely observing, was deeply shaken by this harrowing scene, finding myself at a loss for words.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand; it was Li Hao. Our eyes met, and as if by some tacit understanding, we both ran and ducked under a table together. Despite the magnitude of the blaze, the table we hid underneath miraculously remained unscathed. He shielded me, watching over everything calmly, waiting for the chance, a better moment, to move me to a safer place. At that moment, I inexplicably felt a sense of happiness, a feeling of being cherished, foreign yet somehow familiar.
Eventually, he seized an opportune moment and, grasping my hand, we fled the inferno, making it to the edge of the nearby racetrack. Through the process of escaping, I could vividly feel the warmth of his palm.
Gradually, the fire was contained through the efforts of many, but it hadn't come without leaving everything in disarray. All that was left of the banquet site were dozens of red-hot pots and the crackling sound of burning pine wood—empty wails echoing through the remnants of the tragedy. I knew that this disaster would remain eternally etched in the memories of the survivors, becoming an indelible piece of history.
Upon the now-quiet ruins, the smoky scent lingered in the air. Li Hao let go of my hand to search for his fellow delegates. I also returned to reality, looking for my family. After searching, I finally found my father, sister, and the steward, all covered in pine ash and looking disheveled, but their expressions were joyous as long as everyone was safe.
"The once-in-a-century phoenix seeks to punish all beings," someone cried out in lamentation. At that moment, my father, as the head of the family, stepped forward and calmly put a stop to the people's panic.
Gazing in the direction where the fiery phoenix flew off, its silhouette seemed to flicker in the darkness. I couldn't understand why the phoenix had set the banquet ablaze. At that moment, Li Hao pulled at my hand anxiously and said, "This isn't a phoenix; it must be a conspiracy against the delegation. We must quickly pursue."
And with that, he took my hand, and we hurried off in the direction the phoenix had vanished.