On the first night of arriving in Wuhai, it happened to be the 16th of March, with a bright moon in the sky, which was the perfect time to capture the hanging moon. I held onto the pre calculated parameters and followed the pre-set camera position. The evening breeze carried the coolness of the desert, causing the camera strap to sway gently. My heart was full of expectations - this time, I must capture the full moon embracing the statue of Genghis Khan.

Unfortunately, it still came quietly. I was ultimately unable to accurately estimate the height of Mount Gander, and my prediction of the elevation angle of the moon's rise also deviated. Only when the moon rises above the horizon and reaches 8 degrees can its figure be clearly seen. However, at that time, the moon had already lost its soft and hazy initial rise, shining brightly. What was frozen in the camera was only a dazzling white light ball. The towering outline of the statue of Genghis Khan was completely obscured by the strong light, and I was filled with anticipation. In the end, there was only helplessness left. I could only press the stop button and accept this first defeat calmly.

As the night deepened, I looked at the image in the camera and was ultimately unwilling. Since chasing the moon was unsuccessful, I decided to wait until dawn and take a break during the day, determined to try again.

And the second time, I was no longer in a hurry for success, but prepared thoroughly in advance, figuring out a method of separate exposure, just to preserve the clear moonlight and the grandeur of the statue.

As the sun sets and the dusk deepens, I set up my camera early and took advantage of the blues to capture the statue of Genghis Khan in detail. At that time, the sky was not completely dark, and the patterns of the bronze armor were clearly visible. The towering statue contrasted with the blue waves of Wuhai Lake, and every detail was well preserved.

Then, I adjusted the parameters for taking photos of the moon, and the long wait began. This wait is three hours. Until 10:30 at night, the moon slowly rose and shone brightly. I immediately held my breath, lightly pressed the shutter button with my fingertips, and captured the tenderness of the moonlight and the solemnity of the statue in the lens.

At the moment when two photos were combined, all the waiting echoed. The moonlight gently enveloped the statue, without glaring spots, only the tranquility of clear light brushing over the armor. The heaviness of bronze and the lightness of moonlight embraced, creating a magnificent and gentle painting in the night of the Black Sea. This journey of chasing the moon in the Black Sea, although there were initial regrets, was ultimately successful and taught me that all persistence and waiting will eventually lead to surprises.