Chapter One Hundred and Thirty: Chang’an

Wei Renshi gazed into the distance at the city walls, glowing in the sunset, as if they had emerged from the depths of antiquity.

Chang’an, Chang’an… Everlasting Chang’an!

The Zhuque Avenue, running straight from north to south, divided the city into two symmetrical halves: Wannian County to the east and Chang’an County to the west. Each side boasted its own commercial district, known as the East Market and the West Market. Eleven avenues running north-south and fourteen running east-west partitioned the residential areas into 110 neat, orderly wards, resembling a go board.

Wei Renshi had been here before—1,200 years later. The words he had once read in a travel guide surfaced clearly in his mind now. He carefully recalled every piece of information he possessed about this city.

As the carriage drew near, the towering, mountain-like walls revealed their majesty and oppressive weight. Wei Renshi stepped down and walked toward them, pressing his hand firmly against the cold, weathered bricks.

It felt as though time and space were compressing. Hundreds, even thousands of years of history—stories that had happened and stories yet to unfold—stood right before him. The wall his hand touched might have been touched by someone in the same spot a hundred years ago; the imposing silhouette his eyes beheld might have been seen by someone from the same angle thousands of years later. The withered tree branch he brushed against might, in a thousand years, sprout from the same crack to become an ancient tree that spanned the ages, carrying with it the lingering traces of time.

It suddenly struck Wei Renshi that his future self had once stood in this very spot, performing the same gesture. Yet, he was separated from that moment by a staggering 1,216 years.

Wei Renshi stood transfixed, staring at the wall, motionless.

Scholar Zhang walked up, patted him on the shoulder, and laughed, "Everyone who comes to Chang’an for the first time is captured by its grandeur. But after a while, you stop noticing—it’s all just things built by those before us."

"I heard there is a stone tablet outside the Kaiyuan Gate inscribed with: 'Nine thousand nine hundred miles to the western extreme,' to show the barbarians that one need not travel ten thousand miles," Wei Renshi said. "Now that I am in Chang’an, I must go see it."

Scholar Zhang shook his head. "Why see that? It brings nothing but melancholy. Besides, that is outside the Kaiyuan Gate; we are at the Mingde Gate. I won't accompany you that far."

Wei Renshi smiled. "That is for another day! For now, I must find a place to stay. I suppose I should head to the West Market first."

Scholar Zhang pondered for a moment. "That is fine. But once you have settled, notify me as soon as possible. Tomorrow I must report to His Majesty, who may wish to see you. I must be able to find you."

Wei Renshi nodded. "Where does Scholar Zhang reside?"

Scholar Zhang provided an address and told Wei Renshi to send word once he was settled.

The two entered the city. The Zhuque Avenue, lying directly behind the Mingde Gate, was incredibly wide and long, a path of blue flagstones stretching straight into the horizon. To reach the West Market from the Mingde Gate, one had to head northwest.

The West Market occupied two full wards and was so bustling that it surpassed the commercial districts of Luoyang. Wei Renshi took out the letter from Jiao Haiqing, read it once more, and entered the market to search for the Jiao family trading house.

The East and West Markets of Chang’an were arguably the most prosperous trade hubs in the world at that time. With trade reaching from Rome in the west to Japan in the east, they were the world's largest centers for commerce, fashion, entertainment, and cultural exchange—or so Wei Renshi had learned during his future travels.

In short, with its thriving market system and solid economic foundation, the West Market supported the entire Silk Road trade network. It was, without a doubt, the true starting point of the Silk Road. The market was filled with shops; historical records suggested there were over two hundred different trades within the West Market alone. Though this was Wei Renshi’s first time in the real West Market, one glance confirmed that the records were spot on.

"Uncle Ma, Gou Er, have you been to Chang’an before?" Wei Renshi asked as they strolled through the market.

Ma Weilong nodded. "Yes, young master, we have. But it is even more prosperous now than it was back then."

The three of them wandered the market, looking for the Jiao family trading house. Jiao Haiqing had said it was near the center of the West Market, so it shouldn't have been hard to find. Yet, after walking a full circle, they saw no sign of it. Knowing Jiao Haiqing wouldn't deceive him, Wei Renshi turned back to search again.

Still nothing. Frustrated, he tried a third time.

"Young master! There! Over there!" Gou Er suddenly shouted, pointing to a spot.

They turned and saw a narrow alleyway. Looking down it, they spotted a sign hanging by a doorway. Wei Renshi walked over. *Is this door barely two people wide?* he wondered. *Is storefront space in Chang’an that expensive, or was business in Luoyang just that much more inflated?*

Wei Renshi walked in. A man was behind the counter, fiddling with counting beads. Hearing Wei Renshi enter, he looked up.

"Welcome, sir," the man said, stepping out from behind the counter. "You are a new face. May I ask what business brings you here?"

Wei Renshi glanced at the counter. The sound of the beads had reminded him of an abacus, but he realized that hadn't been invented yet; these were simple counting beads—a rectangular wooden tray with various beads arranged in specific patterns to perform calculations. It was an upgraded version of counting rods.

"I have come from Fuchang. I have a letter for the shopkeeper," Wei Renshi said, producing the letter. "Are you the shopkeeper?"

The man nodded, took the letter, and opened it. It bore the unique seal of the Jiao family, which could not be forged.

"So, you are the newly titled Lord Wei!" The shopkeeper was stunned, his expression one of shock. He quickly bowed and apologized, "I have been in Chang’an for a long time, but I have never seen a noble so young who did not inherit his title. I was caught off guard. Please, my Lord, forgive my rudeness!"

Wei Renshi waved his hand and smiled. "No need to be so formal. I am a very close friend of Second Master Jiao. You don't need to be so polite, and I am not used to being called 'Lord Wei.' You may call me 'Young Master' or 'Sir,' but please, stop calling me 'Lord Wei'!"

"This... as you wish!" Seeing Wei Renshi's firmness, the shopkeeper quickly nodded and corrected himself. "Since you have just arrived in Chang’an, you must be weary from your travels. I shall take you to a private residence to settle in and rest!"