BEIJING, Feb. 10, 2026 /PRNewswire/ -- I was born under the Chinese zodiac sign of the Horse, a sign that revisits me every 12 years in a cycle as constant as the seasons. The year 2026 is the seventh Year of the Horse that I have welcomed. Already, I hear the distinct and resonant sound of its hooves galloping closer from the far horizon. 

My lifelong friend Han Meilin, a renowned Chinese artist, excels at painting horses. With each significant event in my life, he has always presented me a spirited and elegant horse portrait - using the horse as a metaphor for me - to express his heartfelt artistic sentiments.

The memory of my 80th birthday remains vivid to this day. Seized by a spontaneous call of passion, my friend Han painted 80 horses, each one entirely unique. When this artwork arrived in Tianjin by express delivery and was unrolled before my eyes, a breathtaking artistic panorama unfurled.

Within it, some steeds are depicted charging with fiery vigor, others soar as if taking flight; some reveal a grounded majesty, while others move with untamed elegance. Every expression stirred in me an emotion, a revelation, or an inspiration.

Twenty years ago, when the Feng Jicai Institute of Literature and Art of Tianjin University was established, Han gifted me a magnificent eight-foot ink-and-color painting titled Ben Ma (lit: Galloping Steed). Inscribed upon it was the renowned poem "Yong Yin Ma" (lit: Ode to the Drinking Steed) by Emperor Taizong of the Tang Dynasty (618-907).

I fathomed his painted message - he hoped I would pour my soul into a purpose greater than myself while achieving a meaningful career. Later, when I held a public-benefit painting exhibition at the Suzhou Museum to support the development of folk culture, he came all the way to Suzhou to support me. He also gifted me another horse painting titled Qiji Tu, which roughly translates to "Painting of a noble and exceptional steed." Qiji is an elegant classical Chinese term referring to an exceptional, fleet-footed horse.

In 2025, when I completed the construction of a cultural museum at Tianjin University, he crafted a tall and majestic bronze sculpture titled Tian Ma (lit: Celestial Steed) and placed it at the museum's entrance. Its base was designed as a slope, a quiet metaphor for his wish that I continue climbing upward, pausing neither my stride nor my journey across the vast skies.

I cherish his horses because they carry the profound heritage of Chinese culture. Within them, one traces the spirit of Han Dynasty (206BC-AD220) and Tang Dynasty steeds, the brushwork of masters like Han Gan and Li Gonglin, and the earthy vitality of clay sculptures from Fengxiang district of Baoji, in Northwest China's Shaanxi Province and Huaiyang district of Zhoukou, in Central China's Henan Province. Yet the most vivid presence in every stroke remains Han himself.

His horses are all untamed and charge fearlessly forward. With bold sweeps of ink, he shapes the powerful bodies of the steeds. In a few expressive strokes, he captures the steeds' strong backs and spines that bear great weight; following the brush's momentum, he renders the manes and tails that seem to fly with passion; and with ­seemingly casual touches, he creates vigorous legs and swift hooves that slice through the wind... After over 40 years of friendship with him, I too have become one of the horses born from his brush.

From the horses he paints for me, I see his wishes for my health, for my perseverance, and his encouragement for my occasional successes - along with, of course, his generous and perhaps overly kind praise. The horse has become the most direct, intimate, and beautiful language between us.

Of course, my own stories with the horse are countless in their own right.

My Chinese zodiac sign is "Horse." The character for my surname "Feng" is made up of the character for "horse" and the two brush stroke for "ice," which is why colloquially the surname "Feng" is referred to as "two horses" in Chinese. The "Ji" in my given name "Jicai" also incorporates the character for horse.

Altogether that's four horses, a number which later happened to align perfectly with the four main endeavors of my life: painting, literature, cultural heritage preservation, and education, earning me the nickname "The Carriage Drawn by Four Horses."

Now that I am older, my passion for these pursuits remains undiminished, and I find myself unable to abandon any of them. With many ideas still left unrealized, I continue to drive all four forward in tandem. This year, in particular, brings me special joy as it is once again the Year of the Horse. The spirit of the horse - its vitality, tenacity, and relentless drive - are qualities I have always cherished. And of course, they are qualities our Chinese nation has treasured since ancient times.

We absorb the spirit of the horse into our very being. And so, at this very moment, we raise our arms high, wave our hands, and welcome the Horse of the Bingwu year. Then, with a steadying hand on the saddle, we leap onto its back, give it free rein, and gallop forth, embracing this Year of the Horse in all its courage, its boundless energy, and the exhilarating promise of a thousand-mile journey beneath the sun.

The author Feng Jicai is a renowned Chinese writer.