Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

Chapter 309 Night View of Chang'an

The 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month in the fifth year of the Qiming era. The Little New Year.

The third snowfall of the winter fell in Chang'an. The snow was light, a fine, scattered flake that began to fall at dusk and, by nightfall, had accumulated a thin layer on rooftops and treetops. The snow in the streets and alleys was trampled by pedestrians, turning into mud, but was quickly covered by fresh snow.

The snow stopped after nightfall.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, its cool light bathing the entire city. The vermilion palace walls, the gray-blue walls of the city gates, and the black-tiled roofs were all covered with a thin layer of white, gleaming softly in the moonlight.

This is Chen Xing's favorite Chang'an—after nightfall, the hustle and bustle subsides, the prosperity fades, and the city reveals its true face.

He stood alone on the city wall, looking down at the capital city below.

Jia Wen stood half a step behind him, without saying a word. He knew that His Majesty didn't need to speak at this moment; he just needed someone to accompany him.

Below the city gates, a maze of streets and alleys stretched out. The city gates were closed, but lights still shone in the east and west markets. These were the shops of the foreign merchants, who, despite the passing of the Lunar New Year, remained open as usual. From afar, the lights stretched out in a continuous expanse, like a handful of scattered stars.

Further away are the neighborhoods where people live. Lanterns are hung in front of every household—it's the Little New Year, time to worship the Kitchen God, sweep away the dust, and prepare for the New Year. The lanterns are of different sizes and colors, red, yellow, and white, forming a continuous line that stretches to the horizon.

"Prime Minister Jia," Chen Xing suddenly spoke, "tell me, how many lights are there in this city?"

Jia Wen thought for a moment and said, "I don't know. I'm afraid it's several hundred thousand lamps."

Chen Xing nodded.

"Hundreds of thousands of lamps. Behind each lamp is a family."

He paused, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible:

"I don't know how those families are doing. But I do know that they can peacefully light this lamp, waiting for the New Year, waiting for next year's harvest, and waiting for their children to grow up the year after..."

He didn't continue.

Jia Wen did not respond.

The night wind blew, and the flags on the city tower fluttered in the wind. The sound carried far in the quiet night.

West Market, Hushang District.

The lights were still on in Sa's warehouse.

Saban sat behind the counter, a pot of wine and two small dishes in front of him. He didn't drink the wine; he just stared blankly at the pot.

"Master," apprentice Xiao Zhou leaned closer, "why aren't you drinking?"

Saban shook his head: "Wait for someone."

Xiao Zhou was taken aback: "Waiting for whom?"

Saban did not answer.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. The curtain was lifted, and several people entered—Aishan, a Uyghur merchant; Hemz, a Persian merchant; Hassan, an Arab merchant; and an Indian monk whom Sakya Pandita did not recognize.

"Boss Sa!" Aishan shouted as soon as he entered the door, "You old man, you don't even close the door on a holiday! We've been looking for you for ages!"

Saban stood up and smiled.

"We've been waiting for you."

Several people sat down around the table. Xiao Zhou added bowls and chopsticks and then went to warm the wine.

Holmes looked around the shop and exclaimed:

"Boss Sa, your shop is getting bigger and bigger. When I first came to Chang'an, this was just a small stall."

Sapanda waved his hand: "Thanks to His Majesty. Without trade, without official roads, without those rules, no matter how capable I am, it's useless."

Aishan raised his glass and drank it all in one gulp:

"Then let us toast Your Majesty!"

Everyone raised their glasses and drank them down in one gulp.

The Indian monk did not drink alcohol; he simply put his hands together and chanted a Buddhist prayer.

Hassan put down his glass and suddenly asked:

"Boss Sa, tell me, how come we've all come from so far away and are now sitting together drinking in Chang'an?"

Everyone remained silent for a moment.

Saban thought for a moment and said:

"Because there's a road here. With a road, people can come. When people come, they can get to know each other. And when they get to know each other, they can drink together."

He paused, then said:

"It's also because there are rules here. With rules in place, everyone knows what to do and isn't afraid of being bullied. If they're not afraid, they dare to come. And if they dare to come, they can stay."

Holmes nodded:

"When I was in Silaf, I heard people say that there was a very powerful emperor in the East. I didn't believe it. But after I came here, I found out that he was even more powerful than the legends said."

Aishan laughed and said, "Didn't you even send your son? You still say you don't believe me?"

Holmes glared at him: "I brought him here to study! Can you call it 'giving away' when it comes to studying?"

Everyone laughed.

Amidst laughter, the curtain was lifted again.

Two young merchants entered, one a Uyghur and the other a Persian, both regular customers who frequently purchased goods from Saji's warehouse.

"Boss Sa!" the Uyghur youth shouted, "There are fireworks outside! They're so beautiful!"

Aishan's eyes lit up: "Fireworks? Where did they come from?"

The young Persian man said, "I heard it's a new production by the Imperial Workshop, and it's being tested tonight on Suzaku Avenue. Lots of people are going to watch!"

The group exchanged glances and stood up simultaneously.

Saban waved his hand: "You all go ahead, I'm old and I hate noise."

Aishan grabbed his arm and said, "Come on, come on! It only happens once a year! We don't need to see the fireworks, we can still see people!"

Saban was dragged along by him, staggering out the door.

Suzaku Avenue.

Fireworks are going up into the sky.

Red, yellow, green, and purple blossoms bloomed one by one in the night sky, illuminating the entire street. The street was crowded with people: commoners from the Central Plains, merchants from foreign lands, high-ranking officials, and ordinary peddlers. Everyone looked up at the magnificent sky.

"Wow--"

A gasp of surprise erupted from the crowd.

A child, perched on his father's shoulders, pointed to the sky and shouted:

"Daddy, look! That one's red! That one's green! That one...that one's gold!"

The father smiled, but his eyes were a little sore.

He remembered the days of the previous dynasty, when he was just a child, riding on his father's shoulders to watch fireworks. Then war broke out, and they fled, losing everything. He thought he would never see fireworks again in his life.

Now, he saw it again.

Moreover, it was with his children.

Not far away, several foreign merchants huddled together, heads tilted back, mouths agape, speechless with astonishment at the fireworks.

A young man stammered, "What...what kind of magic is this?"

The older one shook his head, also looking bewildered.

A commoner from the Central Plains overheard this and explained with a smile:

"It's not magic, it's fireworks. Made of gunpowder, specially for the Lunar New Year."

"Gunpowder?" The merchant from Hu was even more bewildered. "Isn't gunpowder used for fighting?"

The people of the Central Plains thought for a moment and said, "They used to be used for fighting. Now that there's no more fighting, they're used for setting off fireworks."

Hu Shang was stunned for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

"Good. It's good that there's no war. It's good to set off fireworks."

Daci'en Temple.

Kukai stood at the window of the Sutra Repository, gazing at the dazzling fireworks in the distance.

Fireworks burst open one by one in the night sky, then vanished into the darkness. That sight reminded him of something his master, Ennin, had once said:

"All phenomena arise from causes and conditions, and all phenomena cease due to causes and conditions."

He put his hands together and softly recited a Buddhist mantra.

Footsteps sounded behind him. A young novice monk ran in, panting, and said:

"Senior brother! Senior brother! There are fireworks outside! Lots of people are going to watch! Let's go see too!"

Kukai shook his head and did not turn around.

"Go ahead. I'll stay a little longer."

The young novice monk hesitated for a moment, then ran out.

Kukai remained standing by the window, gazing at the gradually thinning fireworks.

He had been in Chang'an for three years. In those three years, he learned Chinese, finished reading the scriptures left by his master, and made several friends among the monks from the Central Plains. They discussed Buddhist teachings together, debated scriptures, and copied scriptures together.

Master is right. Chang'an is a good place to study Buddhism.

But tonight, he suddenly felt a little homesick for Japan.

I miss the mountains, the sea, and the cherry blossoms there.

I miss my master, Ennin, and all my fellow disciples who crossed the sea with me.

What are they doing now?

He sighed softly and turned away from the window.

Behind him, the last firework burst in the night sky, illuminating his silhouette.

Imperial Medical Academy Herbal Garden.

Lan Fenghuang did not go to see the fireworks.

She crouched in the Gu chamber, staring at the newly cultivated golden thread Gu in the bamboo tray. Moonlight streamed in through the small window, illuminating the wriggling little creatures with a faint glow.

"Aro," she said without looking up, "tell me, why aren't they spinning silk yet?"

A-Luo yawned and mumbled sleepily:

"Your Majesty, it's past midnight. You should rest. Let's watch it tomorrow."

Blue Phoenix shook her head:

"No. This batch of silk is urgently needed. The medicine at the border is running low; we need to procure more quickly."

A Luo opened her mouth, wanting to persuade him, but not knowing how.

I heard soft footsteps behind me.

"Mother."

Lan Fenghuang turned around and saw Chen Ke standing at the door, wrapped in a small cloak, rubbing his eyes and looking sleepy.

"Ke'er? What brings you here?"

Chen Ke walked over and leaned against her:

"Mother, I miss you. Why aren't you going back to sleep?"

Lan Fenghuang's heart softened, she put down what she was holding and picked up her son.

"Mother is busy. She'll go back when she's done."

Chen Ke leaned on her shoulder and whispered:

"Mommy, there are fireworks outside. They're so beautiful. I watched them from the window for a while."

Lan Fenghuang was taken aback: "You're still awake?"

Chen Ke shook his head: "I can't sleep. I miss my mother."

Lan Fenghuang's eyes reddened slightly, and she hugged him even tighter.

"Okay. Mother will go back to sleep with you."

She carried her son out of the poison chamber and said to A'Luo:

"Lock the door. Come back tomorrow."

A'Luo responded and watched the mother and child disappear into the night.

Under the moonlight, her silhouette was no different from that of any ordinary mother.

Lizheng Hall.

Murong Mingyue did not go to see the fireworks.

She sat by the window, holding a small brocade robe in her hands, mending the torn cuffs. It was Chen Qi's clothes; the boy was already ten years old this year, and had grown taller rapidly, so last year's clothes were too short for him.

Outside the window, fireworks were still blooming. Red, yellow, and green sparkled on her face.

"Your Highness," the lady-in-waiting said softly, "won't you go see the fireworks? They're so beautiful."

Murong Mingyue shook her head without looking up.

"I've seen this my whole life. One more time won't make a difference."

The female official dared not offer any further advice, but simply stood quietly to the side.

After finishing the last stitch, Murong Mingyue gently bit off the thread, folded the brocade robe, and placed it aside.

She looked up and gazed out the window.

Outside the window, the last firework was fading away.

"Another year has passed," she said softly.

Wenhua Hall.

Chen Xing remained standing on the city wall.

The fireworks have ended. The crowds gradually dispersed, and the streets and alleys quieted down again. Only the lanterns remained lit, one after another, forming a continuous expanse.

Jia Wen was still standing behind him.

"Prime Minister Jia," Chen Xing suddenly asked, "what do you think those people are thinking right now?"

Jia Wen followed his gaze. There, the direction of the East and West Markets, the direction of the Great Ci'en Temple, the direction of the Imperial Medical Bureau, the direction of the Lizheng Hall, and the direction of countless ordinary people's homes.

"I don't know," he said, "but I do know that they should all be asleep now, or about to go to sleep."

Chen Xing nodded.

"It's good to sleep. If you sleep well, you'll have energy tomorrow. If you have energy tomorrow, you can live a good life."

He paused, then suddenly laughed.

"Prime Minister Jia, you should go back to sleep too. You have to attend court tomorrow."

Jia Wen bowed deeply:

"Your Majesty should also rest early."

He turned around and stepped down from the city wall.

Chen Xing remained standing there, gazing at the gradually thinning lights.

The night breeze blew by, stirring his clothes.

In the distance, the lights of thousands of homes in Chang'an City were still on.