A separate letter welcoming his journey at Chuzhou迎楚州行李別紙
Gyewon Pilgyeongjip (A Plowing of the Brush in the Cassia Garden) 桂苑筆耕集 · Choe Chiwon · 886 (Tang, 6th year of the Zhonghe era · Silla, 12th year of King Heongang) · 1 passages · 90 Chinese characters · reading time 0.4 min
Gyewon Pilgyeongjip (A Plowing of the Brush in the Cassia Garden) Book 19 — Reports and Enclosures A collection Choe Chiwon made by choosing out of the writings of his four years in the headquarters of Gao Pian, military commissioner of Huainan under the Tang, binding them into twenty volumes and presenting them to King Heongang of Silla in 886. It holds 366 pieces — memorials and reports sent up to the emperor, the proclamation denouncing Huang Chao, letters to the several military commissioners, orders and dispatches issued to those under him, Daoist and Buddhist texts for services, funeral offerings, records written for the outer wall of Chengdu and for a painting of Annam, and the reports and poems he sent up to Gao Pian. Here is the first report, which begins "I am a man of Silla," and the proclamation against Huang Chao with its line, "Not only do all the men of the world think to kill you openly; the ghosts under the earth have already discussed cutting you down in secret." The last volume holds the poems he made on the voyage home to the country he had left at twelve. It is the oldest collection by a Korean that survives, and when Hong Seokju and Seo Yugu printed it with movable type in 1834 they called it "the root and the beginning of the writing of our Eastern Country." Their two prefaces are translated with it.
I do not know whether these days your crossing of the long Huai goes well, or how your honored person has been sleeping and eating. I bow and consider: the source swells at Tongbai, and the waves touch Penglai. Though you draw near a close and stifling season, you face all the same a clear and empty region. You open the mirror of gladness, and it is truly like the moon shining. You float the carp boat, and meet with a well-tempered wind besides. Who would call this a journey to flee a place? It answers truly to the work of crossing the river. I bow and ask that you let the immortal oar fly slowly and work the true teaching quietly, that you may take in fair omens and guard yourself the more each day. The feeling of one low asks this earnestly. Respectfully submitted.