Chapter 86 Section 1

Chang'an City thousands of years ago was a beautiful city.Outside its city, there is a low and delicate city wall.In its city, there are low and delicate walls; the whole city is a maze divided by walls.The walls, built of worn gray bricks and jointed with plaster, are more ornaments than walls.Outside the city wall, there are evergreen vines, which will not wither in the middle of winter. In winter, it often snows in Chang'an City.This is real goose feather snow, the flakes are as big as a squirrel's tail, exuding the fragrance of jasmine.The longer the snow falls, the stronger the fragrance of flowers will be.Those loose, moist snowflakes fell softly from the sky, onto the city walls, onto the exquisite pavilions, onto the pavilions everywhere, and into the vertical and horizontal river channels, becoming porous ice floes.No matter how long the snow has fallen, there is always only a thin layer on the ground.Waterlogged footprints left by someone walking by - like little ponds.The snow seems to be floating on the water.White mist is spreading all over the sky... The entire Chang'an city, except for the city walls, is full of small and exquisite buildings and intertwined waterways.Some people say that the reason for the existence of Chang'an City is to wait for the snow in winter...

Chang'an City is a real garden: it has paths paved with crushed stones, stone arch bridges over waterways, and clear flowing water under the bridges—the water is black because of its clarity.Water seemed to be constantly bubbling up from the ground.The pebbles under the water are therefore also yellow.There is a water pavilion on each small bridge, and the window lattice of boxwood is installed on the water pavilion.In addition, there are fruit trees beside the canal, with yellow rakes growing on the branches regardless of season, hanging down with the green leaves.You can travel all over the city by paddling a canoe, but you must be familiar with the complicated waterways of Chang'an; you also need to have the skills to maneuver a boat in the turbulent currents in order to pass through the tumbling eddies under the bridge hole.Throughout the year, there are tide-makers on the big river in the city.Especially in black and white winter, it is the best season for getting wet; at this time, the river is full of beauties... Those Americans with long hair and shawls take off their white obscene robes on the painting and lightly jump into the water.Afterwards, their white bodies were reflected in the black water.Then they slid silently under the water, just like the clouds in the sky in a dream... This city belongs to me, exuding a cold fragrance.In this city, all the names of people and places are not important.What matters is substance.

In Chang'an City, all the streets are paved with mirror-like stone slabs. The stone is black with some golden stripes.After the snow falls, the surroundings are white, only the streets remain black;Those pagoda trees leaned over and stretched out their leaves under the cover of snowflakes. The leaves were still green in the heart, but the edges of the leaves turned red.Inspired by the fragrance of flowers in the snow, Sophora japonica also hung scattered inflorescences under the canopy, contributing some sweet and bitter aroma. It is really lucky to be able to walk on such a street.She just walked into the picture like this, walked up the mirror-like street, leaving white shadows in all directions.

I follow the woman in white at all times and in all places.She was walking on the black streets of Chang'an City. She had short hair, and the hairline was trimmed very neatly. She only had long hair in the back, which looked like a braid.On his shoulders was a white, boxy shawl shaped like a South American rug around his neck.To be precise, it is not white, but beige, firm in texture, with four corners hanging on the shoulders, behind and in front of the body.Below the shawl is a beige dress.On black streets, beige is more pleasing to the eye than white.In the bitter fragrance of flowers, I looked at her from behind. The beige dress seemed to be made of silk or fine wool—she was wearing a pair of wooden shoes barefoot, with countless thin straps to tie the wooden soles to her ankles.She walked forward, and the iron soles of her shoes left a string of sparks on the slate... I write these, as if saying goodbye to a life without memory.