Xi'an: A Romantic Rendezvous, Drunk and Not Going Home; Dreaming Back to Chang'an, an Indulgent Moment — First Impressions of Chang'an: Clothing, Food, Shelter and Travel

A person’s life in this world is not enough,

he should also have a poetic world.

Many people know this line, but few know the second half:

For me, that world lies in the city of Chang’an.

I have walked through many nights, yet only Xi’an feels so intense:

the city’s lively hustle and bustle, travelers rushing with passion;

time rewinding and renewing, culture inherited and deep.

If possible, I truly wish,

in the Chang’an of the glorious Tang Dynasty, to have a romantic encounter dreaming back to that era.

Before coming to Xi’an I only knew:

Xi’an is the ancient capital of thirteen dynasties, the starting point of the Silk Road. A million years ago, Lantian ancient humans built settlements here; 7,000 years ago during the Yangshao culture, embryonic city walls appeared; from Zhou, Qin, Han, Sui, Tang and more, thirteen dynasties established their capitals here.

It has witnessed too many great eras of power and glory, rises and falls. Standing on the shore of time and looking back, across the long river of history, Chang’an sits in the northwest, reciting a poem of ups and downs.

Chang’an, with a dreamlike poetic charm, whenever you mention it you deeply feel:

if you encounter Chang’an for a night, it will be deeply passionate and intense.

This was my first time in Xi’an,

having traveled far, most wanting to know the Chang’an within its bustling depths.

What kind of city and story is woven day after day?

What local customs, what ambiance, what scenery is painted?

Night One: Clothing, Food, Shelter, and Travel

Every city has its own customs.

Step into a city and feel her customs—

start that night in Chang’an with clothing, food, shelter, and travel.

Of course, don’t step in too easily;

I fear you might inadvertently fall deep in love.

Some hurry, some fluster, but Xi’an’s rhythm never changes — [Travel] in Chang’an

Travel in Chang’an —

The plane pierced the clouds and slowly landed,

Xianyang Airport welcomed and sent off hurried travelers.

With the National Day holiday approaching, the flight was full. In Xi’an’s moderate rain, an orange taxi with a Dayan Pagoda printed on its door looked both playful and poetic.

The driver reminded me to scan the health code upon boarding, their epidemic prevention stricter than in Shenyang.

On the road, the driver enthusiastically introduced Xi’an’s customs, sights, and local foods in a hearty Shaanxi accent, and I listened with relish.

What surprised me was that this turned out to be the easiest cab ride in five days:

Xi’an’s traffic can drive you absolutely crazy

— especially on rainy days. Honestly, I had only experienced a two-hour wait for a taxi during rush hour at Shanghai’s Jintie business district,

but Xi’an single-handedly surpassed Shanghai.

Fortunately, everything else made me want to stay.

Witness the charm of Chang’an women, appreciate the broad-mindedness of northwestern men.

— [Clothing] in Chang’an

Clothing in Chang’an —

I have never seen a city where girls wear red hairpins and flowers adorn their temples,

I have never seen a city where young men dance gracefully in Hanfu,

even more, I’ve never seen a city where this all feels so natural, as if it has always been this way.

Even when dining at Chang’an Da Pai Dang, the waitstaff were dressed in splendid costumes — though one restaurant encompassed dynasties from Tang, Song, to Ming.

At the door, a ‘eunuch’ with eyeliner and a duster called out: ‘Please come in, honored guest!’

Inside, a ‘fairy’ in Song dynasty attire with a veil bowed: ‘Please walk slowly on your way out!’

You watch, you savor, you smile, you fall in love,

the feeling is so free, as if this is exactly where you belong.

If you come to Chang’an, you must wear Hanfu,

and stroll down the historic avenue, dreaming back to a prosperous era.

All the flavors you seek are here. — [Food] in Chang’an

Food in Chang’an —

Chang’an’s cuisine is exceptional: diverse snacks, colorful staples, delightful desserts.

Whether at must-visit places like Tangmao Courtyard, Chang’an Da Pai Dang, or the ubiquitous Weijia Liangpi and Laomijia Paomo,

Xi’an’s local character shines vividly in a bowl of food.

I never expected chili to appear so frequently in dishes,

from rice noodles and flour skins to biangbiang noodles (forgive me, I couldn’t find the character)

or the cute thousand-layer oil towers.

Near my hotel there was a Wei Jia Liangpi, so I dropped my bags and went in.

I thought liangpi was just liangpi, but in Xi’an I discovered: mianpi (flour skin), mipi (rice skin), and hot rice skin — so many varieties of ‘pi’. I ordered a bowl of mianpi, specifically asking for mild spice, but when it arrived, a thick layer of chili surprised me.

Taking a bite, oh! The texture was completely different from the liangpi in northeast China:

that thick layer of chili created a unique salty-spicy aroma.

In Xi’an’s streets and alleys, one dish you can’t miss is hulu ji (calabash chicken).

Its aroma wafts from afar, accompanied by four unique dips: sour plum, green pepper, garlic paste, and dried chili. The chicken leaves a lingering fragrance in your mouth, far superior to ordinary fried chicken — crispy outside, tender inside.

One bite made even me, a lifelong dieter, unable to resist taking several more pieces.

I finally understood:

oh, hulu ji isn’t related to calabash at all;

it’s served in a half-calabash-shaped plate, even carefully suggesting an eating sequence:

first taste the wing (spread your wings),

then try the leg (rise step by step),

finally the breast with each of the four dips.

Obviously, with my personality, I couldn’t care less about the order and quickly devoured it all.

Xi’an’s meat is fragrant, and its roujiamo (meat stuffed bun) is even more so

— this substantial meat is utterly satisfying.

One bite brings pure bliss, the crust crumbly yet crisp, the beef so aromatic it makes you swoon,

this taste, an absolute knockout.

Since the drama starring Sun Li aired, jing gao (mirror cake) has been a delicacy I’ve longed for.

It’s everywhere, from sit-down shops to street stalls, even improved with innovations like yogurt jing gao and ice cream jing gao,

but to me, nothing surpasses the original in delicious sweetness

— layers upon layers, each distinct: the sweetness of jujubes, the stickiness of rice, the softness of beans.

Besides jing gao, huangmi gao (yellow rice cake) is a must in Guanzhong small bowls,

and I always hug the bowl and finish every last bit.

In Xi’an’s snacks, sweetness is absolutely essential.

After all, who can resist Xi’an’s composed, gentle sweetness and soft stickiness?

Xi’an’s dishes can be quirky, with novel dips and unknown flavors.

The oddest thing is the abundance of internet-famous dishes and snacks:

feizixiao (a lychee-shaped shrimp ball), maobi su (calligraphy-brush-shaped pastry), shisanyao (mahjong tile-shaped snacks), and odd street treats.

Sometimes in Xi’an, you’re not eating food but delightful curiosity.

A smoking platter in a peculiar shape, carried by a server in Hanfu, who declares loudly: ‘Please enjoy, honored guest!’

Your first instinct isn’t to eat, but to capture the moment with a photo.

Every restaurant seems to blend ancient and modern, regions and differences.

When this uniqueness bursts in your mouth,

as long as it tastes decent, you’ll contentedly sigh:

Eh, not bad at all!

In Xi’an, you can experience every flavor,

her taste enduring and ever new.

She presents every sensation you desire in a hundred ways.

— [Shelter] in Chang’an

Staying in Chang’an —

I stayed north of the Dayan Pagoda, facing it directly. The floor-to-ceiling windows of the top-floor restaurant looked right out at the pagoda, and a telescope was placed nearby.

On a few nights when I worked until midnight, I would take my clothes to the top-floor laundry. As the washer rumbled, I sat by the huge floor-to-ceiling window at midnight, quietly gazing at the distant, serene, glowing Dayan Pagoda. All around was dark, the hall silent but for the gentle hum of the laundry machine. Those moments were rare leisure after a busy day. Watching the pagoda’s faint light felt like understanding in one night the profound and ancient history it carries.

If I had to pick where to stay in Xi’an, I’d definitely say near Dayan Pagoda,

because here you can witness her

daytime tranquility, evening passion, late-night revelry, and midnight stillness,

just like the Xi’an I imagine.

Night Two: Midnight and Daytime

Every city has its own ambiance.

Step into a city, embrace her ambiance,

from day to midnight, without rest;

indulge in a bold encounter, not leaving until drunk.

The people of a city are its soul.

— Daytime’s Simplicity

Accustomed to rising early, I rarely had a chance to explore during the day on business trips, and only a few late nights at that. Yet, simple Xi’an left me with warm impressions: enthusiastic drivers, travel tips from convenience store owners, cute moments in restaurants, and heartwarming servers; even the hotel staff were full of caring words. In the daytime, Chang’an plainly showed her beauty to everyone.

The northwest’s daytime comes with warm simplicity.

The lingering Tang charm, through history, gently touches your shoulder.

— Evening’s Allure

As lanterns are lit, a city reveals a different charm, surrounded in red, passionate and enchanting. Lively people animate the ancient city and skyscrapers, everywhere a beautiful sight.

Star-shaped bridges and seas of lights, talented scholars and beautiful ladies — the Great Tang All Night City buzzes with excitement. Surely, a Tang dynasty night must have been just like this.

Chang’an is like a magnificently dressed, elegant lady, finished with her toilette, hanging up brilliant lanterns, opening her arms to embrace everyone intoxicated by her. Night breezes carry children’s laughter running across Xuanzang Square, lovers’ soft words as they stroll embracing, and friends’ playful chatter while taking photos.

Yet she just watches, saying nothing, only smiling lightly, exceptionally alluring.

Xi’an’s evening exudes enchanting allure.

Midnight — Daybreak is far off, yet a city stays heavily with you. — Midnight’s Stillness

Even the most beautiful never-sleeping city must eventually close.

At midnight, the crowds disperse, but lights remain. Streets devoid of people become serene and tranquil.

Perhaps some with stories gaze at the flickering lights of the distant Dayan Pagoda in Xi’an’s midnight, lighting a cigarette. Hardworking sanitation workers clean up the night’s clamor. A snack shop’s cat sleeps quietly under a streetlamp by the door; owners yawn and close up. All bustle fades, the city as quiet as if the day’s events never happened.

Only the Dayan Pagoda and Bell and Drum Towers stand tall and silent,

bearing history’s weight and Chang’an’s tolerance.

Xi’an’s midnight hides profound depth and affection.

With people, a city gains a soul.

Whether on lamplit streets or nights of music and dance,

it’s the lively, passionate crowds in Chang’an that blend into a one-of-a-kind ambiance.

Night Three: Smiling at the Past and Present

Every city has its own scenery.

Step into a city and savor its views.

Though I haven’t covered everything, I was already delighted and excited.

Of course, I must visit the Terracotta Warriors

next time — I’ll make an appointment.

Walking on the wall, stepping through history’s patina. — The Imposing Ancient City Wall

The solid ancient city wall.

After browsing the Shuyuanmen cultural and creative street and buying a bunch of trinkets, I saw the ancient city wall.

Climbing the rampart and cycling around felt like wandering through the cycles of history.

When my feet touched the ground, I realized the wall had stood for centuries, witnessing time. Everything has changed, and yet seemingly nothing has.

A city’s history is a nation’s history.

A sleeve of sunset, the wall towering; its weightiness goes far beyond the wall.

All the city’s charm rests in Furong. — The Splendid Furong Garden

The brilliant Furong Garden.

A long-renowned imperial garden, built in the third year of Emperor Wen of Sui’s reign.

Later, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang expanded it massively, bringing it to unprecedented magnificence, the pinnacle of garden design. At the end of the Tang, with the destruction of Chang’an, the garden vanished beyond trace.

It is said that today’s Tang Paradise was built on the original site, with pavilions, towers, arched bridges, and covered walkways reproduced based on historical paintings. The Tang-style architecture in the garden is the largest in the country, a complete textbook of Tang architecture.

The most enchanting is the night at Tang Paradise: solemn and dignified by day, the garden suddenly transforms at night.

Gorgeous lights shimmer on the water;

everywhere you walk is a beautiful scene, every glance a delightful surprise.

Flowing water and reflections, radiant and colorful, purely charming.

One night in Chang’an, never-ending. — The Vibrant All Night City

The vibrant, never-sleeping city.

As the name suggests, Xi’an seems to have no night,

especially the Great Tang All Night City. As soon as the sky darkens, it transforms back into Chang’an,

returning to the great Tang, lanterns filling the city, prosperity fully displayed.

Dusk sets, lights brilliant; Chang’an’s night bright as day.

You absolutely cannot miss the All Night City when in Xi’an. Whether a street vendor or a taxi driver, everyone tells you, you must go stroll. After watching the world’s largest music fountain at Dayan Pagoda, feeling history and modernity merge among the crowds, follow the flow south past the internet-famous ‘tumbler lady’ performance, pass through Xuanzang Square, weaved through the crowd, and you arrive at the candlelit, star-bridge sparkling, blooming All Night City pedestrian street.

The flickering lights, beautiful women with exquisite makeup, cheerful travelers with smiling faces, floral floats and performances — one street spans past and present.

Buy a Tang cat mask and hang it in your hair,

tuck a delicate calabash at your waist,

hold a scholarly folding fan to your chest;

you are walking in Chang’an, feeling at home in the world.

Landing, an indulgent moment.

Romantic Encounter in Chang’an. Finale.

A night in Chang’an, just a moment’s indulgence.

Xi’an’s scenery is far more than this.

Hate the time so short, regret the hurried schedule.

There are endless beauty spots to explore, countless delicacies to savor.

An ancient charm lingers everywhere, perpetually dreamlike.

After the bustle, on the way back to the hotel, under a midnight overpass, a beam of light fell.

A late returnee crouched on the bridge, lighting a cigarette, watching the stream of traffic below. I don’t know what he was thinking, but that scene was just right, as if choreographed — lonely yet unexpectedly comforting for a hurried traveler.

‘In the spring breeze, pleased with success, the horse’s hooves fly fast, to see all the flowers of Chang’an in one day.’

Arriving in haste, leaving in haste;

Chang’an and I, a romantic encounter, a moment’s indulgence, then separate worlds.

I have walked through many nights, but truly,

only here is the most intense.

History flooded over the riverbed of time, leaving a Chang’an to dream back to.

I walked through the ancient city, leaving behind a moment’s indulgence.

0930 — A Dream of Chang’an.

I have a wish.