Chapter 35: Xianyang City

The Wei River flows to the south, and the Zong Mountains stretch across the north. Since both the mountains and the waters face the sun, it is called Xianyang.

Xianyang City was commissioned a century ago by Wei Yang during the reign of Duke Xiao of Qin. Once completed, the Qin capital was moved here from Yueyang. Successive rulers—including King Huiwen, King Wu, King Zhaoxiang, King Xiaowen, and King Zhuangxiang—all expanded the city.

It grew in scale, order, and sophistication, its palaces becoming increasingly luxurious and elegant. Looking down from above, a majestic, inherent momentum permeated the city. After a century of warfare, the strength of the Qin state had surged, and the vigor and spirit of the entire nation were reflected here.

The surrounding area encompasses the eight-hundred-mile Qin Plain, extending east to the Yellow River, west to the Qian and Wei Rivers, north to the Nine Mountains, and south to the Qinling Mountains. The capital itself covers nearly fifty square kilometers. While this is not the peak size of Xianyang, it ranks among the top five of any city in the various states.

Emerging from the depths of Ba Commandery, Zong Qiong and I traveled light on horseback, passing through Hanzhong and heading straight for the banks of the Wei River, near Xianyang. Although the laws of the Lord of Shang are exceptionally harsh toward merchants, the wide imperial highways were filled with merchant caravans.

Under the policy of "farming and war," merchants hold the lowest status, but this does not stop them from pursuing wealth. As the Qin state grows stronger and the meritocratic nobility system takes root, the country has become wealthy and the people powerful, leading to robust consumption. Goods from the six states of the east are continuously transported to Qin, especially to Xianyang.

It must be said that the imperial highways built by Qin are impressive. Roughly fifty meters wide, these flat roads are lined with trees—a requirement stipulated by Qin law—making the journey on horseback quite comfortable.

After a ten-day journey from the Celestial Sect, we arrived before Xianyang. High, continuous ramparts of dark yellow earth stood firm, with towering watchtowers where Qin soldiers patrolled. The city gates were open, with a constant stream of pedestrians.

The main gate is about five or six meters high and four or five meters wide, flanked by two smaller side gates guarded by armored soldiers wielding long spears. At the main entrance, merchant caravans must pay a fee to enter. The local populace, however, seems exempt from this. As we neared, the crowd grew, and the air filled with the sounds of the Guanzhong dialect.

While I am well-versed in the scripts of the seven states, I am not as proficient in their various dialects, though I can manage the tongue of Qin. However, for one whose wisdom has been fully awakened, learning a regional language is an effortless task.

"Little Martial Uncle," Zong Qiong whispered, "according to word from our Celestial Sect members in Xianyang, the Qin state is recruiting Palace Protectors and Palace Sword Masters. One must first report to the Hall of Worthies, undergo screening there, and finally be presented to the King of Qin and the Chancellor of Qin at the Xianyang Palace for the final selection."

I dismounted, holding the reins. Compared to the horses beside me, my stature was inconspicuous—barely four feet tall. Looking at the world from this height, people barely noticed me.

We entered through the main gate. Zong Qiong flicked his fingers, tossing two Qin half-tael coins into the basket held by the guards. We passed through without obstruction, walking into the city as he continued to speak in a low voice.

"The Chancellor of Qin, Lu Buwei—how many years has he held that position?"

The main street of Xianyang was straight and level, paved with long, narrow slabs of bluestone, about fifteen or sixteen meters wide. Along the edges of the street, drainage channels led out of the city, and on both sides stood two- or three-story restaurants and shops.

The clamor of street hawkers and shouting I had expected was absent; there were not many people walking the streets. However, through my spiritual perception, I could sense that the shops—especially the restaurants—were quite bustling.

"Since the passing of King Zhuangxiang of Qin and the ascension of King Zheng, Lu Buwei has been the Chancellor. By my count, it has been nearly eight years. Two years ago, Lord Changping of Chu, Xiong Qi, was appointed as a secondary chancellor, though the real power still rests in the hands of Lu Buwei."

Zong Qiong was clearly well-informed. He spoke fluently of how Lu Buwei had once hoarded goods for profit, leaping from a lowly merchant to become the Chancellor of Qin. King Zheng even addressed him as "Second Father," and his power spanned the realm.

After being enfeoffed as the Marquis of Wenxin, his retainers poured in, numbering three thousand. His influence was so vast that a single word could decide the fate of ninety percent of the people in Qin or dictate the strategy of war. For a merchant to reach such heights is unprecedented in history.

"Chancellor Lu Buwei and Chancellor Lord Changping, Xiong Qi... nearly eight years. It is almost time," I murmured.

I nodded in acknowledgment. History records ten years for Chancellor Lu; with eight years passed, it seems my "Royal Brother," whom I have yet to meet, is quite resourceful. To allow a member of the maternal family like Lord Changping to become a chancellor—Lu Buwei must have been pressured into it.

Although Lord Changping is currently only a secondary chancellor, not the Chancellor of State, with the support of King Zheng, the inherent xenophobia of the old Qin nobility, and the lingering influence of the Chu maternal family, Lu Buwei’s time as Chancellor is surely coming to an end.

"Little Martial Uncle, shall we head to the Hall of Worthies first, or rendezvous with the Celestial Sect disciples here?"

Leading the horse, I walked ahead, glancing at Zong Qiong. He seemed to be deep in thought. He didn't say more, looking at the restaurants on either side of the street. Although the noon hour had long passed, the establishments were still full.

After a dozen breaths, Zong Qiong spoke again. According to the traditions of the Taoist Celestial Sect, there was no custom of establishing branches in other states. The only reason there were Celestial Sect disciples in Xianyang was because of me.

Two years ago, I ordered Zong Quan to send a group of disciples to Qin. Nominally, it was to experience the world and temper their minds, but handling minor tasks along the way was expected.

"Go to the Hall of Worthies first. We will rendezvous this evening. You handle the arrangements."

The vast city of Xianyang is divided quite simply. Entering from the south gate, one finds the workshops, businesses, and residential areas. The palace complex lies to the east, the imperial tombs to the north, and the government offices and military zones to the west.

The sound of horseshoes on the stone slabs was crisp. There were few pedestrians, mostly dressed in coarse hemp, of modest means but possessing a strong spirit.

After a century of "farming and war," more than eighty percent of the ordinary residents of Xianyang held noble titles. A title brought privileges; compared to the lowly merchants, even if these residents were less wealthy, they would surely have the upper hand in any dispute.

I merged my consciousness with the heavens and the earth, sensing the aura of Xianyang. With every victory of the Qin state and every expansion of its territory, the energy enveloping the city seemed unique.

My spiritual perception surged, and my eyes flashed. It was truly like a dragon—boundless and vast. Under the midday sun, it was as if a dragon were swimming through the sea, galloping freely and roaming without restraint. This was the momentum of a nation.