Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

Chapter 280 Imperial Aura

The ninth day of the eleventh month of the second year of Qiming. Minor Snow.

The first snow in Chang'an fell softly and gently. Snowflakes landed on the newly completed Qiming Road, on the newly erected "West Market Supervisor" archway outside Kaiyuan Gate, on the empty courtyards of the Sifangguan where the envoys from Goguryeo, Champa, and Balhae had just left, and on the shoulders of the newcomers who had just arrived and were still settling their luggage.

That winter, the snow in Chang'an seemed unusually heavy. But the warmth in the streets and alleys was even greater than in previous years.

West Market, a market that has been prosperous for nearly a century since the previous dynasty, has ushered in its busiest season in history since the beginning of winter this year.

On the third day of the twelfth lunar month, the newly established "Hu Shang District" on the south side of the West Market was bustling with activity.

This area was originally an open space on the edge of the West Market. Last year, the Court of State Ceremonies and the Prefectural Government jointly petitioned for permission to build more than twenty shops, three large warehouses, and a "foreign residence" specifically for Persian merchants to rest. The shops all followed a uniform style: blue bricks and gray tiles, vermilion-lacquered doors and windows, with signs written in Chinese, Turkic, and Sogdian scripts hanging under the eaves. The warehouses had cement walls for fire and theft prevention. The foreign residence was a two-story building; the downstairs was a shared dining hall, and the upstairs were individual bedrooms, heated kang beds, hot water, and even a Zoroastrian prayer room specifically for Persian merchants.

At this moment, the busiest shop in the "Hushang District" is the one with the sign "Saji Goods Store".

The shop owner was none other than Saban, a merchant from Yanqi. This was his third trip to Chang'an. The first time was last December, when he led a group of sixty-one men, sold his goods, and left. The second time was this May, when he brought more people and more goods, and even officially registered at the West Market Supervisor's Office, receiving a bronze plaque for "perennial merchant." This time, he simply rented a shop in the Hu merchant district, intending to stay there permanently.

"Boss Sa!" A Uyghur merchant in a fur robe squeezed through the crowd and shouted in fluent Turkic, "I want your batch of Khotan jade! The price is what you said, no bargaining!"

Sapán was fiddling with his abacus when he heard this. He looked up, revealing his front teeth worn smooth by the wind and sand: "Brother Aishan, you're too late. That batch of jade was bought up by the Kucha people yesterday."

The Uyghur merchant was taken aback, then stamped his foot: "Why didn't you save some for me!"

Saban smiled and pointed to the mountain of goods piled up in the corner of the shop: "There's more. This is a carpet from Shule, this is dried golden peaches from Kangguo, and this... guess what this is?"

He pulled a dark brown object from a cloth bag and handed it to the Uyghur merchant.

The Uyghur merchant took it, brought it to his nose, and sniffed it. His eyes widened suddenly: "This...this is pepper? Such a big bag? Where did it come from?"

"India," Sakya Pandita said in a low voice, "A Persian ship sailed directly to Guangzhou last month and brought this goods. I asked a friend in Guangzhou to transport them by fast ship to Yangzhou, and then by land to Chang'an, so they would arrive before the New Year. This batch of goods is only available to me in the entire city of Chang'an."

The Uyghur merchant swallowed hard: "How much?"

Saban reported a number.

The Uyghur merchant gasped, but then gritted his teeth: "We'll take them all!"

The bustling atmosphere of Xishi extends beyond the Hushang District.

Dongshi, a traditional market mainly dealing in products from the Central Plains, has seen an unprecedented new look this year – shops specializing in "foreign goods" have sprung up like mushrooms after rain.

The manager of the "Guangyuan" ship, surnamed Zhou, was a local of Guangzhou. Last year, he witnessed the scene of Persian merchant ships unloading cargo at Fuxu Port and immediately decided to head north. He rented a shop in Chang'an East Market, specializing in imported goods: spices, rhinoceros horn, ivory, pearls, coral, tortoiseshell... From Persian carpets to Indian cotton cloth, from camphor from Srivijaya to agarwood from Champa, he had everything.

"Manager Zhou," a middle-aged man in a silk robe squeezed into the shop, pointing to a string of coral beads displayed on the counter, "how much is this string?"

Manager Zhou glanced at it and gave a number.

The middle-aged man gasped, but didn't haggle, only muttering, "It wasn't this expensive last month..."

Shopkeeper Zhou smiled and pointed to the bustling crowd outside the shop: "Sir, look, half of the people here are merchants from the Western Regions, and the other half are traveling merchants from all over the country. There's only so much stock, and with more people, prices will naturally go up. If you think it's too expensive, come back earlier tomorrow and pick out the items that haven't gone up in price yet."

The middle-aged man sighed, but finally took out his money pouch.

Shopkeeper Zhou collected the money, watching the middle-aged man's departing figure, a slight smile playing on his lips. He recalled hearing stories of Chang'an's prosperity in Guangzhou last year, which he had been skeptical of. Now, standing in his shop in the East Market, witnessing the constant flow of merchants from the Western Regions, Jiangnan, and the Central Plains, he truly understood the weight of those words:

"The world is bustling, all for profit; the world is in turmoil, all for gain."

The eighth day of the twelfth lunar month is the Laba Festival.

As usual, temples and Taoist monasteries in Chang'an City distributed porridge. This year was different from previous years; in addition to people from the Central Plains, many faces of different skin colors and clothing were seen at the porridge distribution points.

A long queue formed outside the gate of Da Ci'en Temple.

At the head of the procession was a Persian merchant wearing a white turban. He held a bowl of steaming Laba porridge, carefully blew on it, tentatively took a sip, and then his eyes lit up. He said to the interpreter beside him:

"What is this? It tastes so good!"

The interpreter explained with a smile, "Laba porridge is made with eight ingredients: rice, beans, dates, chestnuts, lotus seeds, longan, walnuts, and almonds. It's eaten on the day Buddha attained enlightenment."

The Persian merchant nodded, took another large gulp, and mumbled, "Buddha... was a man who knew how to eat."

Behind the procession, several Japanese monks squatted in a corner, slowly drinking their porridge. Ennin was among them. He gazed at the majestic pagoda silhouetted against the mountain gate and softly murmured a Buddhist chant.

A young monk nearby asked, "Master, when can we go in to copy the scriptures?"

Ennin did not answer. He simply gazed at the spire, at the thin layer of snow on it, and at the snow slowly melting in the sunlight, falling drop by drop.

On the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, several special guests arrived at Taibai Tower, the largest restaurant in Chang'an.

The leader was a Goguryeo man, dressed in a brocade robe in the style of the Central Plains, but his demeanor still carried the ruggedness of Liaodong. Behind him were two young men, one who looked like a Han Chinese and the other dressed in Goguryeo attire.

"Your Highness, please." The Goguryeo man stepped aside to let the young man who looked like a Han Chinese go first.

The young man—Crown Prince Gao Yuan of Goguryeo—nodded slightly and stepped into the restaurant. The young man dressed in Goguryeo style behind him was his study companion, named Dae-mu.

The manager of "Taibailou" greeted them with a smile: "Esteemed guests, please have a private room upstairs."

Gao Yuan shook his head: "Just sit in the main hall."

The shopkeeper was taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered and said, "Alright, this way please."

Gao Yuan chose a seat by the window. Da Wu and the Goguryeo guard were standing behind him, but he waved them away, saying, "Sit down and eat with us."

Da Wu and the guard exchanged a glance and sat down cautiously.

Gao Yuan looked around. The hall was bustling with activity: at the table on the left, several merchants from the Western Regions were haggling in broken Chinese; at the table on the right, two silk merchants from Jiangnan were talking in hushed tones; in the corner, an old scholar with white hair and beard was explaining something to a few young people, who nodded frequently.

The waiter brought over the food and wine. Gao Yuan picked up a piece with his chopsticks, chewed slowly, and suddenly said to Da Wu, "Guess what my father is doing right now?"

Da Wu hesitated for a moment, then said cautiously, "Your Majesty...should be handling state affairs?"

Gao Yuan shook his head: "My father should be in the palace right now, staring blankly at that wall."

He paused, then pointed out the window. Outside was the bustling street of Chang'an, teeming with people and carriages.

"That wall can block the wind and snow, and it can block the enemy, but it can't stop..." He didn't finish his sentence.

Da Wu dared not reply.

Gao Yuan was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed: "Let's not talk about this. Let's eat."

On the 20th day of the twelfth lunar month, the Minister of the Court of State Ceremonies reported that a total of 37 vassal state delegations and merchant caravans had arrived in the capital and registered during the year; the number of foreign merchants permanently residing in Chang'an had exceeded 500; the total value of goods handled by the Western Market Supervisor throughout the year exceeded 300,000 strings of cash; and the customs duties paid by the Maritime Trade Office were equivalent to 60,000 strings of copper coins, more than double the amount paid last year.

After reading the report, Chen Xing casually handed it to Jia Wen.

Jia Wen took it, examined it carefully, and a gratified smile appeared on his old face: "Your Majesty, this is just the beginning."

Chen Xing nodded slightly and looked out the window.

It's snowing again outside the window.

The snow in Chang'an fell almost continuously from November to December. Yet, the crowds in the streets and alleys were denser than ever before. Faces of various skin colors, dressed in foreign attire and wearing headscarves, mingled shoulder to shoulder with the people of the Central Plains, moving between the east and west markets. The sounds of camel bells, horses neighing, vendors hawking their wares, and haggling blended together, drifting out of the city gates and into the distance.

In the distance, Qiming Road disappeared into the vast snow fog. But those who had just embarked on this road knew that at its end lay a city gate that would never be closed.