Chang'an Journey: Savoring the Legacy of a 13-Dynasty Ancient Capital
Xi'an was the capital of 13 dynasties: Western Zhou, Qin, Western Han, Xin, Eastern Han, Western Jin (Emperor Min), Former Zhao, Former Qin, Later Qin, Western Wei, Northern Zhou, Sui, and Tang. At noon on July 17, 2021, I traveled alone from Chengdu to Xi'an by train. Upon getting off and entering the subway, I saw magnificent wall reliefs that displayed the grandeur of this ancient city, which had been an imperial capital for over 2,000 years. They revealed the martial spirit of the Qin land and its rich cultural heritage.
The train station was Xi'an North Station. The subway ran basically south along the central axis, entering the North Gate of Chang'an city. I got out of the subway outside the city and walked into the North Gate, aiming for a gradual immersion into the sights.
The current city walls of Xi'an are from the Ming dynasty, by the way.
The North Gate is called Anyuan Gate, revealing traces of China's traditional policy of conciliation toward those not of our own kind.
The four-story building with many windows on the wall is called the Arrow Tower (Jianlou), used for archery and lookout.
Inside the gate, the north-south Beidajie Street stretched out. Last year when Shufang came to Chengdu, the TV series 'The Stage' was a hit, telling stories of Xi'an city, and it seemed some scenes were filmed around here. The city wall isn't vertical but trapezoidal, very solid.
When I visited Nanjing in 2017, I saw its ancient city walls still intact. Xi'an's walls are also grand in scale. The moat water was like a mirror, reflecting the gray walls, red corner towers, green weeping willows, blue sky, and white clouds. Flocks of birds, the setting sun, wind fluttering banners—all were beautiful scenes, making one feel relaxed and content, peaceful and satisfied. Even if poor and struggling, one would not lose the noble spirit of a fallen aristocrat, with solace in one's heart and a homeland within.
Some like to say they are city folk, but first you have to be in a real city. Does your place have city walls? Where are our walls?
On Beidajie Street, the Heping Cinema was built with Soviet assistance, showing Russian architectural style; now it's a heritage site.
By 1 p.m., I hadn't eaten anything, saving my appetite for an authentic Xi'an meal. A few times in the past, I'd nearly fainted from hunger while searching for a truly authentic restaurant—was that a compulsion? The baozi and wontons here had a very authentic flavor, really satisfying. In a new place, it's always right to find a spot where locals queue up to eat.
After eating, I felt much more settled and my senses sharpened. I had left Chengdu in the morning, traveled through the Ba Mountains and Qinling, and now I was back in the north. Walking on the street, the wind hit my skin noticeably harder—this was the north. In Chengdu, the wind is very light.
At the intersection ahead, the Bell Tower appeared. Built in the Ming dynasty, it is the center of Xi'an, where four main streets from east, west, south, and north converge. It stands on a square base, with three-tiered eaves.
My hotel was to the east, but since it was still early, I hopped on a shared bike and first chose to explore westward.
Walking, cycling, and taking buses are the best way to explore a city—no need for detailed planning; spontaneous encounters feel the best.
The place above is called Liangbao Lou (Treasure Display Tower), which brings up a history from the Eight-Nation Alliance: In 1900, Britain, America, France, Germany, Russia, Italy, Japan, and Austria-Hungary attacked Beijing under the pretext of suppressing the Boxers. It was a higher dimension against a lower dimension, industrial civilization against agricultural civilization, so they swept all before them. Empress Dowager Cixi and Emperor Guangxu fled to Xi'an. The Forbidden City became the command post of the Eight-Nation Alliance; they stayed a year, and the next year the Boxer Protocol was signed. Over the preceding 60 years, through the reigns of Daoguang, Xianfeng, and Guangxu, many unequal treaties were signed (as shown in the picture below), ushering in a mode of survival through endurance.
Therefore, if you feel bullied, insulted, or looked down upon by enemies, friends, family, or relatives, the only reason is that you are weak, or becoming weaker. It has nothing to do with others' character, nor with the right or wrong of the immediate matter. This is the law of the jungle, applicable across all dimensions of time and space. It's not a spiritual issue; it's all a matter of material energy. The sooner you understand this, the sooner you will be free and live a wise and philosophical life.
Cixi and Guangxu fled from Beijing to Xi'an, and what they thought was: survive, survive like animals. As long as they lived, they were still emperors, and being the emperor of a vast country was thrilling, giving an overwhelming sense of existence; once dead, everything would be zero. The Forbidden City became Waldersee's headquarters. For over a year, their food, clothing, and other needs—and later their return to the Forbidden City—were funded by tributes from local officials. After all, everyone was in the same leaking boat; if it sank, they'd all perish. Once this crisis passed, they could continue to be happy. So many treasures were gathered and sent to Xi'an for Cixi. The next year, Cixi signed the Boxer Protocol—living off the land, off the water, and off the country, selling the country was perfectly logical. When they returned to the Forbidden City, most things were taken back to Beijing, but some were left behind, so local officials built this 'Liangbao Lou' to store them.
Liangbao Lou was not open, so I didn't go in. I heard there's a four-character plaque bestowed by Cixi: '静观自得' (Observe Quietly and Find Contentment), from a wonderful poem by Cheng Yi of the Song dynasty:
'In leisure, everything is unhurried; I sleep by the east window, the sun already red.
All things, observed in stillness, bring their own contentment; the joys of the four seasons are shared by all.
The Way pervades heaven and earth beyond the tangible; thought enters the ever-changing world.
To be neither corrupted by wealth nor disheartened by poverty, but in poverty still joyful—such a man is truly heroic.'
What a wonderful state of mind! Since Cixi could bestow such words, her level wasn't low, nor was Guangxu's. In fact, they shouldn't be scapegoated by history—there's really no such thing as black or white blame, no matter of blame at all. All that is a waste of time. What's needed is to investigate things through science, people through history, and attain knowledge through thinking.
Beiyuanmen is located on the north side of the eastern section of West Street, running from West Street in the south to Xihuamen Street in the north, with Ming and Qing architectural styles. The provincial governor's office at the north end of the street was called 'Beiyuan' (North Courtyard), hence the name 'Beiyuanmen.' It was originally part of the Tang imperial city, and in the 26th year of Guangxu (1900), it became the temporary palace of Cixi and Guangxu after they fled to Xi'an. Over centuries, various administrative institutions were located here: the Song dynasty's Jingzhao Prefecture, the Yuan dynasty's Fengyuan Route, the Ming and Qing Xi'an Prefecture, the Qing Shaanxi Governor's Office, the Guanzhong Dao during the Republic of China, and the Xi'an Municipal People's Government after the founding of the People's Republic.
'Corban' means 'sacrifice' or 'offering,' one of the main rites of the Hajj pilgrimage, taking place on the 10th day of the 12th month of the Islamic calendar, the last day of the pilgrimage. On that day, pilgrims perform animal sacrifices.
Xi'an's Yunju Temple was originally called Anqing Temple. Legend has it that Li Shimin's mother (Emperor Taizong of Tang) was a devout Buddhist and made several pilgrimages each year to Nanwutai on Mount Zhongnan for worship, a very exhausting journey. To show filial piety, Taizong built five Buddha halls west of the Guangyun Gate of the palace, imitating Nanwutai, so his mother could worship there. Because auspicious clouds often gathered and lingered above the temple, it was also called Yunju Temple (Cloud-Dwelling Temple).
After a beef pie, I cycled from the west side of the city to the east, found my booked hotel, rested a bit, then went out again on a shared bike, heading of course to the Dayan Pagoda (Big Wild Goose Pagoda).
Exiting the South Gate and looking back, I recalled Du Fu when he left through the Jinguang Gate after being demoted; he also looked back then. He looked back at the West Gate, while I looked back at the South Gate. Du Fu's poem at that time had a very long title:
'In the second year of Zhide, I left the capital through Jinguang Gate to take a side path to Fengxiang; in the early Qianyuan era, I was transferred from the Left Remonstrator to a post in Huazhou; bidding farewell to relatives and friends, I again went out this gate, grieving for past events'
This road I once took to flee to the emperor; the western suburbs were teeming with rebels.
Even now my courage remains shattered; surely some souls have not yet been summoned.
As a close attendant I returned to the capital; to be transferred was surely not the Son of Heaven's will.
Talentless and aging, I halt my horse to gaze upon the myriad gates.
Chang'an belongs to the Tang dynasty; the Tang was an age of poetry, and Chang'an is a city of poetry. Du Fu is the sage of poetry. Coming to Xi'an, I naturally wanted to immerse myself in savoring Du Fu's poems.
Du Fu once had political ideals, and he even had a starting advantage. But the reasons he failed to realize them, I think, were his personality and his heavy drinking.
The poem says: Back then I was held captive by rebels in Chang'an. To meet the emperor in Fengxiang, I fled out through this Jinguang Gate. At that time, hostile barbarian troops endlessly roamed the western suburbs; the situation was dire and I took great risks. Even today, thinking back, I tremble with fear. Along the road I witnessed countless dead; probably their souls still haven't been summoned. Later, as Left Remonstrator, I followed the emperor back from Fengxiang to Chang'an. Just when I thought I was settling down, I was demoted and sent to harsh Huazhou. This surely wasn't the emperor's wish, for he must know my utter loyalty. Now, without talent to govern and growing old and frail, what use am I? Once again I exit Jinguang Gate, halt my horse, and gaze back at the lofty walls and numerous gates of Chang'an—why isn't a single gate open for me?
Cycling happily along, I saw the Dayan Pagoda in the distance and felt quite excited. The Dayan Pagoda is also called the Ci'en Temple Pagoda. In a poem by Du Fu, this pagoda sparked my genuine interest in it.
Du Fu's original poem:
'Climbing Ci'en Temple Pagoda with Friends'
The lofty spire scrapes the sky, fierce winds never ceasing.
Without a broad-minded heart, climbing here stirs a hundred woes.
Only then does one realize the power of Buddhism, enough to chase the profound.
Look up, threading through the dragon-snake den, emerging from the dimness of the branches.
The Northern Dipper at the north door, the Milky Way roars westward.
Xihe whips the sun, Shaohao brings the clear autumn.
The Qin Mountains suddenly fragment, the Jing and Wei rivers cannot be traced.
Looking down, all is one misty blur—how can one discern the imperial capital?
Turning back, I call to Yu Shun, but the clouds over Cangwu are melancholy.
Alas for the feasting by the Jade Pool, the sun sets over Kunlun Hill.
Yellow swans fly off without rest, crying mournfully—where will they go?
See the wild geese following the sun, each has its plan for grain and food.
In 2018 when I was still in Shanghai, the hotel staff once visited the Oriental Pearl Tower in Pudong together, and I composed one referencing Du Fu's:
'Walking with Gentlemen and Ladies from Five Hotels along the Binjiang Avenue to Climb the Oriental Pearl Tower'
Often close to the Huangpu River's waters, today I tour the Pearl;
Five hotels gathered by the river, forty-six men and women.
The lofty spire stands in Pudong, mountains and rivers all in view;
Clouds pass at waist level, auspicious winds never stop.
The Huangpu is a slender ribbon, boats swim like turtles;
Raise a hand to scoop the moon, the starry river I hold in my arms.
The universe is desolate and unfeeling; we hold hands.
Work is hard, now we have a half-day's rest;
Having worked together three or four years, going out, we are old friends.
Strolling and chatting, taking photos to keep memories;
The host's sincere hospitality, everyone gives their all.
With sincere glances, why search painfully?
Life has ups and downs, success and failure are up to oneself;
We must strive to climb the high tower, not fearing the wind and tide.
Looking at what I wrote then, I'm sweating with embarrassment. High or low, it's also a little story of mine.
First, take a photo from afar.
Gongsun Daniang, from Yan Cheng Bei Jie (now within Luohe City, Henan Province), was the foremost dancer of the Tang palace during the glorious Kaiyuan era. She excelled in sword dance, her movements astonishing the world, renowned for the dance 'Sword Art.' 'Watching a Disciple of Gongsun Daniang Perform the Sword Dance' (with preface):
On the 19th day of the 10th month, 2nd year of Dali, at the residence of Yuan Chi, vice-prefect of Kuizhou, I saw Li Shierniang of Linying perform the sword dance. Impressed by her skill, I asked her teacher; she said, 'I am a disciple of Gongsun Daniang.' In the 5th year of Kaiyuan, when I was still a child, I remember watching Gongsun perform the 'Sword Art Hún Tuō' in Yancheng—fluid, sharp, and surpassingly brilliant. Among all court entertainers and even outside performers, only Gongsun achieved such mastery under Emperor Xuanzong. Beautiful face in brocade robes, but now I am white-headed, and this disciple is also no longer in her prime. Learning her origin, I see the same spirit, and moved by memories, I wrote this 'Sword Dance Song.' In the past, the Wu native Zhang Xu excelled in cursive script; often seeing Gongsun perform the 'Xihe Sword Dance' in Yexian, his calligraphy greatly improved, bold and impassioned. So you can imagine Gongsun's art.
Once there was a beauty, Lady Gongsun; with one sword dance she stirred the four corners.
Spectators like mountains paled; heaven and earth swayed with her.
Swift as Yi shooting down nine suns; agile as gods driving dragons.
Her arrival like thunder gathering its fury; her finish like rivers and seas calming their light.
Vermilion lips, pearl sleeves, both now in solitude; later, a disciple spreads her fragrance.
A beauty of Linying here in Baidi, dancing joyously to this tune.
As we talked, feelings stirred, and sorrow grew.
The former emperor had eight thousand ladies; Gongsun's sword dance was foremost.
Fifty years flipped like a hand; chaos and dust darkened the royal house.
The Pear Garden disciples scattered like smoke; a lingering grace of palace music glimmers in the cold sun.
Before the Jinsu Mound trees have grown thick; by the Qutang stone walls, grass rustles bleakly.
The lavish banquet ends, the music stops; joy turns to sorrow as the moon rises east.
This old man knows not where to go; his calloused feet on barren hills only deepen his grief.
Looking north from Dayan Pagoda:
The Qin Mountains suddenly fragmented; the Jing and Wei cannot be found.
Gazing down, all is one blur—how can one tell the imperial capital?
Look up, threading through the dragon-snake den, emerging from the dimness of the branches.
I saw the 'Preface to the Sacred Teachings at the Wild Goose Pagoda' written by Chu Suiliang. I once sold calligraphy copybooks of this stele's rubbing photos, where the traces of alteration were clearly visible—the recutting added a semi-cursive brush style, because Emperor Taizong particularly liked Wang Xizhi's semi-cursive script.
Riding further southeast, I found Qujiang. Here again, Du Fu:
'A petal flying off diminishes spring; wind blows ten thousand points, truly sorrowful.
Watch the flowers about to fade before your eyes; don't mind the wine that numbs your lips.
By the river small halls house kingfishers; by the park, stone unicorns lie beside tall tombs.
Reflect deeply on things' principles—must enjoy life; why let vain glory bind this body?
After court, daily I pawn spring clothes; each day by the river I return drunk.
Wine debts are common wherever I go; a man reaching seventy is rare since ancient times.
Butterflies deep among flowers flit in and out; dragonflies lightly skim the water.
Tell the passing scenery to linger a while; enjoy it for now, don't miss the chance.
An old rustic from Shaoling swallows his tears; in spring he stealthily walks by the winding Qujiang.
Palaces by the river lock a thousand gates; for whom are the slender willows and new rushes green?
I recall when rainbow banners descended upon the South Park; everything in the park brightened.
The foremost beauty of Zhaoyang Hall rode with the emperor, attending by his side.
Before the imperial carriage, a palace lady with bow and arrow, her white horse champing a golden bridle.
She turned and shot an arrow at the clouds; with a laugh, two birds fell.
Bright eyes and gleaming teeth—where are they now? Blood-stained wandering souls cannot return.
The clear Wei River flows east, Sword Pass is deep; gone and staying, no news of each other.
Man's emotion stirs tears to the breast; will river waters and flowers ever cease?
At dusk, barbarian horsemen's dust fills the city; I want to go south, yet gaze north.'
Qujiang Pool Fu by Wang Qi
A fine scene in the imperial realm, an old pool of Xianjing. Its name 'Qujiang' from afar, its layout resembling a sacred pond. The auspicious sun rising over the eastern city reveals its grandeur; the gentle breeze stirring over the South Park first ruffles its surface. The land has covered walkways stretching east, tall pavilions standing north. Next to it, the apricot grove imparts fragrance; in front, the cloud pavilion casts its reflection. Fine trees surround; rare birds gather like mist. As spring warmth approaches, here spring colors arrive first each year; there's so much to admire, the beauty of every spot is unmatched. Like an early morning in the second month, new grass by the bank. Orioles sing while lingering wind swirls mist; fish leap and round ripples rock the spring. What fine horses, golden bits, carved carriages, embroidered wheels. They crowd in splendor, rumbling along. Greenery stretches awnings for a thousand homes; fragrance congeals the dust for miles. Noble youths and heirs, not envious of the Orchid Pavilion gathering; beauties with moth brows and cicada curls, from afar seem like goddesses from the Luo River. On this day, the Son of Heaven descends in his imperial chariot, halting the colorful banners. Presenting acrobatics of balls and swords, interspersed with sacred and elegant music. His grace flows outward, the imperial aura freely spreads. Thus we know the Yellow Emperor merely roamed the shores of the Red River; why did King Mu feast far atop the Jade Terrace? Then again, on a newly clear September day, the west wind fills the city. At that time, tender chrysanthemums golden-hued, deep springs mirror-clear. Reflecting the North Watchtower with steady light, outlining the Southern Mountains with emerald stretches. There are shadows of sun and cloud, sounds of ducks and geese. Yearning to fish by the blue sea, gazing at the Golden Gate longing to wash one's hat strings. Some trudge along on a nag full of sorrow, sighing by the river; others whip their horses half-drunk, strolling idly along the bank. On this day, wine vessels star the scene, officials' dresses like comb teeth. It is said the Double Ninth banquet was bestowed, the many scholars all given places. Above, inviting wise ministers, like being at the Phoenix Pond; standing beside the crowd, unlike the days at Mount Long. As for winter, the bitter cold cracks the earth; in summer, the morning sun scorches the sky. Pitiful that fine times are separated, regret the subtle charm—who shares it? Who sees the ice linking the banks in white, lotus shining red on sand? Reeds, every leaf coated with snow; willows, every branch carrying wind. Is there not Kunming Lake within the capital region? Is there not Taiye Pool within the palace? One merely harbors omens of turtles and dragons; the other still passes on feats of battle. How can any compare to this place, where wheels and hooves converge, noble and lowly alike? Here one sees the splendor of the western capital, and the majesty of the supreme kingdom. May it endure for a thousand, ten thousand years, forever like this without end.
Cycling past the South Park palace wall.
Back at the hotel, quite late; on the way a strong wind blew my hat off. Went out to find food.
Yesterday was all Tang dynasty sights, today I'll go see the Qin dynasty.
After seeing the Terracotta Warriors, I returned to Xi'an city.
Pita bread soaked in lamb soup (yangrou paomo) is a must-eat.
'Strategies of the Warring States - Zhongshan' records: The ruler of Zhongshan held a feast for his officials, with Sima Ziqi present. The lamb soup was not shared with all; Sima Ziqi angrily fled to Chu, persuading the Chu king to attack Zhongshan, causing the Zhongshan ruler's exile. Two men carrying halberds followed him; the ruler asked, 'Who are you?' They replied, 'Our father, once starving to death, you gave him food with a pot of rice. Our father on his deathbed said: "If Zhongshan faces trouble, you must die for it." So we came to die for you.' The Zhongshan ruler sighed to the heavens and said, 'Gifts are not valued by quantity but by need; enmity is not measured by depth but by wounding the heart. I lost a kingdom over a cup of lamb soup, yet gained two warriors with a pot of rice.'
Mao Xiuzhi (375–446), courtesy name Jingzhi, a native of Yangwu in Yingyang, was the great-grandson of Mao Bao, a general of the Eastern Jin, grandson of Mao Muzhi, and son of Mao Jin. He first served Yin Zhongkan, then Huan Xuan; after Huan's fall, he followed Liu Yu, holding posts like Right Guard General and Anxi Sima. After Liu Yu destroyed the Later Qin, Mao Xiuzhi garrisoned Guanzhong with Liu Yizhen and other generals. Later he was captured by the Xia and then Northern Wei, eventually serving Northern Wei.
Mao Xiuzhi once made lamb soup for a Northern Wei minister; the minister thought it a delicacy and presented it to Emperor Taiwu. The emperor was delighted, and Mao Xiuzhi, thanks to his skill in cooking southern dishes, gained close access to the emperor. Taiwu appointed him as Taiguan Shangshu (Director of Imperial Banquets), enfeoffed him as Duke of Nan Commandery, and added the title of Champion General, keeping him in charge of imperial cuisine.
The shop owner's family, with no fewer than three children, was a happy bunch. They asked if I wanted sweet garlic; I said yes, and they gave me two whole cloves.
Rhyming with Ziyou's Poem Sent on New Year's Eve [Author: Su Shi] [Dynasty: Song]
A petty official drives me westward, a long parting, don't cherish the distance.
Just worrying about when we'll meet again, no time to fret over New Year's Eve.
Forced merriment though we have wine, cold drinking can't make a feast.
Qin cuisine has only lamb soup, Long's fare has bear's paw jerky.
Thinking back to childhood, counting on fingers, already past.
How can past events be pursued now? Suddenly like an arrow released.
Feeling time's changes, what I've gained doesn't match the losses.
Government runners come to drive away demons, their agility startles the distant guest.
When sorrow comes, there's no demon; trouble yourselves to exorcise it for me.
Frosty plum and frozen apricot, tender buds at first like wheat.
Pull a branch, feeling wistful—when will their blossoms bloom?
Don't worry about late spring beauty; soon you'll be discarding summer pits.
Life is for enjoying—what need for fame's lists?
Why feel so much alone, not seeing the oil self-roasting?
Your poem comes to comfort me, your feelings reach afar like a shot arrow.
Vividly I see your face, doubting you're right here.
Elder brother now holds a small post, luckily assisting the regional governor.
The North Pool was recently dug; within, the Qian River's blue.
By the pool, drinking fine wine, can still while away long days.
Only fear my poetic strength is weak, in competition I'd lose my ears.
Ten days for a poem to arrive—who says a thousand li apart?
Send one poem a month, and sorrows are hardly worth tossing aside.
Note down this shop.
Daming Palace, the grand imperial palace of the Tang Empire, the political center and national symbol, located on Longshou Yuan north of the Tang capital Chang'an (today's Xi'an). It was the largest of the three main palace complexes of Tang Chang'an—the "Three Great Palaces" (Daming Palace, Taiji Palace, Xingqing Palace)—and was called the "Eastern Palace." From Emperor Gaozong onward, 17 Tang emperors conducted state affairs here for over 200 years. Daming Palace was first built in the 8th year of Zhenguan under Emperor Taizong (634). The palace area is divided into the outer court for audiences and the inner court for residence and feasting. The outer court centers on Hanyuan Hall (outer audience), Xuanzheng Hall (middle audience), and Zichen Hall (inner audience). The inner court contains Taiye Pool and over 30 other halls, pavilions, and terraces.
Danfeng Gate is the main south gate on the central axis of Tang Daming Palace, with the greatest length, quality, and specifications of any Sui-Tang city gate, embodying supreme dignity and majestic imperial grandeur. Its lofty regulations and enormous scale set records for capital gates, holding great archaeological value for the study of Tang Chang'an and Chinese capitals. It is praised by archaeologists as the 'Number One Gate of the Flourishing Tang.' Excavations revealed five gateways, the highest architectural standard in China's feudal period, over sixty meters long east-west and twenty meters wide north-south—the ancient 'Number One Gate Under Heaven.'
The term 'Daming' (Great Brightness) first appears in the 'Daming' chapter of the Book of Songs, section 'Da Ya,' interpreted by the Mao Preface as: 'King Wen had brilliant virtue, so Heaven again mandated King Wu. Wen and Wu succeeded each other, their brilliant virtue growing ever greater, hence called Daming.' Daming Palace, like Weiyang Palace whose name also comes from the Book of Songs, was a self-reminder to emulate the diligence and wisdom of the Zhou kings.
Taiye Pool was first excavated in the 8th year of Zhenguan (634) and officially used in the 2nd year of Longshuo (662), falling into disuse at the end of the Tang, eventually silted up and buried. Located at the center of the Tang inner court, it was the most important imperial garden of the Tang Empire. Daming Palace comprised front and rear palaces; the rear palace was laid out around Taiye Pool, forming the imperial garden area. Taiye Pool had an east and a west section, with the west pool as the main one, roughly oval-shaped and covering about 140,000 square meters.
First, a poem from 'Autumn Thoughts, Eight Poems':
At Qutang Gorge's mouth, by Qujiang's head, ten thousand miles of wind and mist meet the pale autumn.
The Calyx Hall linked the palace, conveying imperial aura; the Lotus Garden admitted frontier sorrows.
Pearl curtains and embroidered pillars encircle yellow swans; brocade cables and ivory walls stir white gulls.
Looking back at the pitiable land of song and dance—since ancient times, the land of Qin has been an imperial province.
Chang'an was the capital of 13 dynasties; this trip I saw mostly Tang dynasty relics. The Han dynasty's Weiyang Palace site I missed due to time.
Weiyang Palace, the grand imperial palace of the Western Han Empire, the political center and national symbol, was built in the 7th year of Emperor Gaozu (200 BC) under the supervision of Xiao He, on the foundation of Qin's Zhangtai Terrace. Located on the highest point of Han Chang'an city, Longshou Yuan in the southwest corner, west of Chang'an's Anmen Avenue, it was also called the West Palace. After its completion, Western Han emperors lived here, making it the administrative center for over 200 years. Hence, in later poetry, Weiyang Palace became synonymous with the Han palace. After the Western Han, it remained the seat of government for the Xin, Western Jin, Former Zhao, Former Qin, Later Qin, Western Wei, Northern Zhou, and other dynasties; during the Sui and Tang, it was part of the forbidden gardens. It survived 1,041 years, the longest-used imperial palace in Chinese history.
The term 'Weiyang' (not ended) first appears in the 'Ting Liao' poem of the Book of Songs: 'How goes the night? The night is not yet ended; the courtyard torches are bright.' Here 'weiyang' means 'not yet over,' 'not exhausted,' 'not yet ceased.'
In the morning, I went to eat some Xi'an snacks, then boarded the train to the next stop.
A basic introduction to Xi'an's hulatang (hot pepper soup): Xi'an locals generally don't make breakfast at home because there are so many street food stalls. Hulatang is one of the most common breakfasts. Xi'an's hulatang varies between Henan and Shaanxi styles, Hui and Han ethnicities, and with diced meat or meatballs. The Hui version uses beef broth and beef meatballs as the base. To highlight the broth's freshness, they omit sourness, reduce the pepper's heat, and enhance saltiness to suit Shaanxi palates. Historically, since its main ingredient pepper only reached China in the Tang dynasty, hulatang cannot have originated earlier. As a folk snack, it rarely appears in ancient texts. Its ancestors were likely sour soup and meat porridge. Given the widespread circulation of the 'Formulas of the Bureau of Taiping Beneficence' in the Song dynasty, adding warm, fragrant, and dry medicinal ingredients to food was probably a social trend, so hulatang evolved from those two dishes.
Method: Heat a large pot of water to near boiling, add pre-made smooth, fingertip-sized beef meatballs, then based on experience sequentially add potatoes, carrots, napa cabbage, etc. (cut into chunks). Then add seasonings: salt, five-spice powder, Sichuan pepper powder. Most importantly, add a secret, proprietary spice blend—each shop's flavor uniqueness depends on this secret recipe. Finally, add cornstarch, stirring continuously with a wooden ladle until it thickens, sprinkle some MSG, and it's done.
After finishing the hulatang, I went to a neighboring shop and had fried dough twists in oil tea (youcha mahuang).
Rested a while by the Drum Tower, then took the subway to Xi'an North Station, heading for my next stop.
The first dynasty to establish a capital at Chang'an was the Western Zhou; I didn't visit the Feng and Hao sites due to time and my limited knowledge. My immersive Xi'an study trip complete, the next stop was the Shang dynasty capital—Zhengzhou.
