Quiet Morning Walk Through China's First Imperial Capital

Tonight we step quietly back more than 2,200 years into Xianyang, capital of the newly unified Qin empire - a sprawling city of palaces, workshops, and roads with no wall to enclose it.

In this gentle sleep story, a Qin official in his fifties rises before dawn on an early autumn morning, two years after the unification, and walks out alone to inspect a piece of ground the growing capital will soon need. His way takes him past the halls said to reproduce the palaces of the six fallen kingdoms, down through the kilns and bronze workshops of the working quarter, and across the great timber bridge over the Wei , a river a colleague once taught him to see as the River of Stars, with the capital laid out below it like the heavens above.

On the far bank, a square of earth and long rows of seasoning timber wait to be measured.

Settle in, relax, and drift gently into sleep.

Transcript

Welcome to. . . Soothe quietly. I'm so glad you are here tonight. Find a comfortable position. N Let your body settle gently beneath you. Relax your shoulders. Release any tension in your jaw. Soften the muscles around your eyes and brow. Take a slow breath in through your nose. And breathe out through your mouth. With each steady breath. The sounds of your day. Begin to fade quietly. Into the background. There is nowhere else you need to be denied. Now let yourself drift softly into tonight's story. Tonight. We step softly back. More than 2200 years. Into Xiangyan. Capital of the newly unified empire. It is an early autumn morning. Two years. After the unification of China. Just before dawn. A Qing official in his 50s. Wakes earlier than his household usually does. Yesterday afternoon, A sealed instruction read his office. Today. He is to access a piece of land. That the expanding capital will soon need. He slept well and feels rested. He dressed by fuel. More than my side. The room still dark. His wife softly asks, Where there is some Argent talks. He tells her. He simply needs to start early. She goes back to sleep. Regardless of how early he rises. He always has millet porridge for breakfast. It is still warm from the bank holes. After finishing his porridge. He ties the plain sash at his waist. For the day's work. Outside. The household compound. Sits quiet in the dark. Beyond its low wall. Xiangyan. The capital city itself. It's only beginning to weigh. The road to his office is short and familiar. Passing below the palace buildings on the high ground. Somewhere off to the east. A clean, Has already been lit. A thin thread of smoke. Rises against the first grey of the morning. A dog farther off. And thus a cartwheel. With two short barks and Fall silent again. 30 years. He has walked this stretch. Even before their unification. Xian Yan was never quite still. He had witnessed roads change. Workshops grow. New houses. Appear beyond the older parts of the city. But the changes of these last two years feel different. Xiang Yan. Is no longer the capital of Ching's day. It is now. The capital of the newly unified empire. And the city is being reshaped to hold it. The road. Continues towards the palace. And soon, He reaches his office. Inside the office. A single Y lamp. Bend slow. Beside the wooden board. On a low wooden stand. It's flame. Steady in the still air. Beside it. Lies the bundle of bamboo slip. That arrived yesterday. He opens the bamboo slip and re-stand by lam-lai. The instruction he received is clear. New ground is needed. Across the Wei River. On the southern side of the capital. To make room for more people. Arriving from their conquered states. He looks down at the sketch. North of the river. Is the Xiangyan he knows. The palace buildings. Their government offices. Than workshops. The roads and houses. And markets. South of the river. Is the newer ground. Where the capital is beginning to spread. He is to find out. Whether this particular ground can be used. Home the land lies. Where water will run. When the rains come. Whether the nearby timber, Will be enough for the expansion. The Lamb. Comes a little closer to the board. The thin ink line. Marking the river. Hold his eyes. A moment longer than the rest. As he stayed at the thin ink line marking the Wei River. He realized there. He did not need the whole capital. Spread before him. In a detailed map. Thirty years had given him his shape. Without needing to unfold it again in front of his eyes. In his mind. He could see the high ground to the north. Where the old palace prisons and government homes. Rose above the city. Around and below them. Lead the workshops. That kept the police running. Cleanse. Bronze castor. Taliads. And beyond those. The roads and the residents. The city spreading outward. Year after year. Without ever deciding. Where it should stop. Below all of it. Ran the Wee River. Carrying the capital boats and dividing the older city. From the newer ground beyond. He knew where each part belonged. He knew what lay above the river. What lay beyond it. N where the bridge carries people from one side to the other. SHENG YUN had never been only a city. To an official like him. A river was water. A width to be crossed. A current, To be accounted for. A boundary? A bridge had to withstand. Years ago. A conversation with a colleague had taught him. To see the Way Riva differently. They have spoken of the city. As an earthly reflection of the heavens above. The We Reva. Was not only the river, That carried boats in. Divided the capital. It can also be seen as the Milky Way. The river of stars. And the bridge across it. As its earthly counterpart. On either side stood the palace districts. Like the celestial cord. Arrange on. Either bank of the Sky River. He remembered that conversation now. The comparison had seemed strange to him then. His thoughts had been on foundations. Embarkments. Timber. Whether a bridge would hold. His colleague had looked at the same river. And seeing the heavens. At the heart of Buddha. Was the emperor. Their memory fades. The sketch. On the wooden board is only a sketch again. He folded his clothes and ties it with its cord. Then he rises. It is time to go and see the ground for himself. He is the only official in the office this morning. He liked studying at this hour. When the office is quiet. And the day's business has yet to begin. It remains quiet. When he stepped outside. For a moment. There is only the faint sound of the city. Beyond the walls. And the soft scrape of his own footstep. The palace compounds lie ahead. Quiet. At this hour. Beyond them, The road will lead down towards the walking quarter. N Father still. The We River. Beyond the office. The row continues. Across the higher ground. Passing between pearlescent compounds. Roof line after roof line. Some joined by uncovered passages. Others standing apart across stretches of open ground. One hole a little farther on sits differently from the rest. It eaves. Curving in a way. None of its neighbors quite match. He knows the story told about these halls. After the six rival kingdoms fell, Their palaces were said to have been reproduced here. They are forms. Gathered within. Qing's own capital. So that what that empire has conquered. Would not simply disappear. He cannot remember which kingdom this one is meant to recall. Someone has told him once a few years ago. Six defeated cards. Still beneath Qing capital roof. He keeps walking. Leaving the palace ground behind. The road. Begins to gently fall away. Before long. The air carries the first warmth of the cleans. A thin column of smoke. Rises above one of the poultry walks. While somewhere behind a wall. Comes the occasional strike of a bronze hammer. A few walkers are beginning the day's walk. One. Carries a basket of raw clay. Across the yard. Another. Lives a roof tile. From beneath a thatched eave. The quarter. Is not yet busy. Xiangyan is only beginning to wake. He passes the workshops without stopping. Below them. The road. Continues towards the lower ground. And the We River. Find the time. The sun clears the horizon. He is well below the walking quarter. Behind him. A thin line of clean smoke. Still rises. Into the morning air. Higher on the northern ground. The palace halls rise above the roof. They are rammed earth turrets. Catching the first line. Ahead. The We Riva opens out. Broad. With a few boats moving close to the banks. And the bridge. Stretching across towards the newer ground beyond. He slows for a moment. The part of the city he has known for so long. Seem to settle into place without effort. The Pellies. Behind and above him. The workshops. Lower down. The rib bone. Aheh. He has walked this way. Often enough that. . . He no longer needs to think about. Where one part ends and another begins. He continues towards the bridge. As he draws Nyara to the water. The dry smell of the road. Gives way to the cooler scent of mud and reeds. The bridge lies ahead. It's timber. Pilled by years of cartwheels and passing feet. He steps onto it and keeps walking. The Wee Riva. Moves quietly beneath the planks. Carrying the morning light. For a moment. He thinks again. Of the river stars. His colleague once had looked at this same river and seen the heavens. Standing here now, With water beneath the bridge. And the quiet city rising behind him. He can see what his colleague meant. The river. The bridge. The palace behind him. All had their places. In a desire, That reach upwards into the heavens. He had spent most of his life. Thinking about the city from the ground. Its foundation. Its row. It's water. It's timber. But standing here. He can see the other order his colleague mentioned. He reaches the middle of the bridge without stopping. The timber holds firm beneath his step. He keeps walking. Towards the far bank. And the ground. He has come to inspect. On the southern bank. The ground opens out before him. A broad square of arts. Marked by wooden poles. Long rows of timber. Laid out nearby to dry. He set the wooden board down beside one of them. And loosen the measuring cord. He has brought for the war. For a moment. He simply stands there. Looking across the ground. This is what he came to see for himself. He walks the boundary once without measuring. Feeling the ground beneath his feet. The earth is firmer in some places than others. And he noticed where it sloped gently towards the river. Once around the boundary is enough He returns to the first pose and begins the measurements. He stretches the measuring cord. Check each distance. And keeps the important figures. In his head as he goes. Find the time he reached the last pose. He knows what he needs to report. Where the new construction can go. Where it cannot. And what would need to be done. Before the construction begins. He gathers the court. Lift the board and looks once towards the river. The morning is fully awake now. Boats move steadily along the water. Across the river. The capital is coming to life. He turns towards the bridge. The walk back will take him the same way he come. But from the other side. The We Reva Fest. Than the lower roads. The workshops. The palace ground. N Finally, The office. Where his walk will wait for him. He steps onto the bridge. Behind him. The ground he came to inspect. Lies quiet in the morning light. Ahead. The family arrived. And Taris's of Shengyin. Wade beyond the water. He walks on. The world we visited tonight grows quiet now. N. You can simply rest here. Comfortable and at ease. Your mind can relax. Your body can soften. If you are already drifting into sleep. Allow yourself to sink. A little deeper. If you are still awake. Listen to the quiet. There is nothing more to do. Nowhere else to be. I'll be here whenever you need another peaceful moment like this. Bye for now. Rest gently. And Sleep well. Good night.