The leaves hang motionless in the sky, only I can feel the wind. I am the masked rider of this city, masked with a face you do not know. Where did you see me? You might have just walked out of a shopping mall, never expecting to see a revolutionary. I need not flutter to be a flag. In such fine sun, in such fine wind, I shall swear an oath — not only swear an oath, but also call the traffic police. This motorbike taxi belongs to me for now. It carries me from here to there. This is the unstoppable tide of history. This is the inextricable life of the streets.