wedge
The setting sun floated at the end of the turbulent grassland, shining golden light from the rouge color. The shepherd's song floated to the horizon, then turned back quietly, rippling on the vast grassland.
"The grassland is vast, the horses are on the plain, the rouge on the horses' backs is more beautiful than the flowers; the flowers reflect the moon, the moon shines on the sand, and the songs in the sand remind me of my home..."
The children's singing was cheerful, shrill, and loud, reaching the ears of the old man on the hillside, evoking infinite longing. He looked up and saw the herds returning, with the shepherd children riding on rouge horses, their bright red clothes just like flowers.
"Child, who taught you this song?" the old man asked as the herd approached.
"My father taught me." The child replied, "Everyone in our tribe can sing it."
"They can all sing..." the old man murmured as if talking to himself, "Horseback Rouge, do you know what Horseback Rouge is?"
The child laughed: "Uncle, are you from another place? Rouge on horseback refers to the rouged horses here, like this one. But the color of a really good rouged horse is... um..." He looked around and saw a bright red scarf tied around the old man's neck: "It's the same color as your scarf!"
The old man looked down and saw that the handkerchief was really as red as rouge. He suddenly felt like crying: "Rouge on the horse's back...Rouge on the horse's back..."
The child was stunned for a moment and said, "Uncle, what's wrong with you? Are you...are you crying?"
"No...no..." The old man's somewhat cloudy eyes were indeed without tears in the sunset. You have to know that after so many years, people are actually slowly evaporated from a plump fruit, dried up to wrinkles on the face, dried up to the point that they want to cry, but have no tears.
"Uncle, what ?" the child asked. "It's getting dark. If it's too late, we won't be able to find the way!"
The old man smiled and looked at the junction of the grassland and the Gobi Desert in the distance, where a tall poplar stood alone. "I'm waiting to see the mirage," he replied.
