Many years ago, you constructed a fire against the sandy wall and, for ingenuity, used your helmet to cook your meal. The savory aroma wafted through the air, piquing the interest of nearby soldiers.

Annoyed, they stormed over, toppling your makeshift pot of food. You ruefully retrieved your helmet, only to find a disheveled, scrawny child on the ground, oblivious to the heat as she reached for the spilled, steaming mush. Alarmed, you cried out, concerned.

Even so, your encounter with the child turned out to be a blessing. While she were quiet, she spoke the Han dialect, leaving you bewildered about her origin. Seeing no one tending to the child, you began to bring them along. During moments of respite, you taught them songs, tumbling, wrestling, and even how to perform rock smashing. Meanwhile, you also gave her a name; "Ban Yue."

Yet, things had changed when you turned away and disappeared. The child that you recalled was colder and more reserved. Trembling, she asked earnestly, "General Hua, could you tell me where I went wrong? Where did I make the mistake?..."