The Longest Day in Chang'an

Chapter 15: Wu Zheng (12:00-12:59) Part 2

Translator: DragonRider

Wen Ran had slender and nimble fingers, which could either lift the thinnest wooden incense stick, or embroider the finest pony with Pingjin technique. She was leaning back against the carriage, two right fingers struggling to squeeze the slats, gripping the loose nail head, and twisting it slowly. Meanwhile, she silently remembered the directions and times the carriage turned.

The carriage headed along the road smoothly, still very dark inside. The four guards, two on each side, sat and kept chatting. There was a fragrance pervading the carriage, which was emanated from the incense rack put sideways. The mixed incense of Wen’s had always been known for its rich and long-lasting aroma.

Perhaps affected by the aroma, unconsciously, the excited guards tuned to talking about bawdy house, and one of them peeked back at Wen Ran’s plump breast. Wen Ran was furious and burst out screaming sharply. The guards had to give her a slap on the face to calm her down. When they returned to their seats, Wen Ran slowly drew her right hand back. She had just pulled the nail out of the gap under the cover of the scream.

She clenched her fist in the dark with the sharp nail head coming out of her fingers.

A while later, the coachman suddenly shouted aloud “whoa” to slow down the carriage. As it was Lantern Festival, the streets were too crowded that the carriage had to stop and go.

Wen Ran’s eyes popped open and she sprang to her feet, punching the guard in the eye who had just offended her. As the guard screamed, Wen Ran draw back her wrist, revealing the bloody nails between her fingers.

The other three guards were stunned for a moment. Then, Wen Ran pulled down the incense rack with another hand, the mixed incenses scattered all over the ground. The blocking was of great help in such a narrow carriage. Wen Ran rushed to the front of the carriage, raised the curtain, and gave a hard punch on the back of coachman’s head.

Attacked by the iron nail, the coachman reined up the horse painfully-the carriage was turning, and the speeding horse was frightened to struggle, causing the frame to loose balance and the passengers turn upside down. Once determined, Wen Ran leaned to one side and rolled out of the carriage. Upon landing, she rolled over few times, and ran toward the east without stopping for a second.

She had been calculating the position of the carriage, and estimated that they were near the side street between Zhiye Fang and Fengle Fang. Both of the Fangs were on the west side of Rosefinch Street, if she ran east along the side street, she would soon see Rosefinch Street.

Two frightened and angry guards jumped out of the carriage to chase Wen Ran. They were strong and ran in long steps, soon drawing closer to her. The guard in front ran fastest and chased a hundred spaces, only one step away from her. The young loafer reached out to grab her hairs, sneering. Unexpectedly, We Ran suddenly turned to throw a bag of powder that splashed on his nose.

That was a sachet she took before escaping from the carriage, in which were gods-calling rue incenses for Lady Wang. Although harmless to human, incense Wen’s produced was of perfect workmanship, grinded into fine powder. Powders got in the young loafers’ eyes so they had to stand there rubbing.

Seizing the chance, Wen Ran jumped onto the Rosefinch Street.

When she looked up and saw the golden spire of Jianfu Temple afar off across the street, hope rose in her heart. That was Anren Fang!

While Wen Ran was on the Rosefinch Street, Da Sabao just walked into the Jing’an Department.

Da Sabao was around sixty, and wore a white stripped satin robe with stand collar, two silk ribbons with flame pattern crossed around his neck, which were vestments only for formal occasions, meaning that Sabao Office (government agency to manage Xianism) took the matter seriously.

What a shame that a Xianzheng (priest) was killed publicly.

As soon as he arrived at Jing’an Department, he was ushered straight to a private room in the side hall. There was no maid, but a burly soldier who offered him a cup of tea. The tea was Jian’ge Shoumu (comes from Shoumu Mountain, Jian’ge County, Sichuan province), not bad, but the tea powder was too roughly sieved. Seen from the scattered tea foams, the person was absent-minded when boiling the tea.

Shortly afterwards, an old man pushed open the door and came in.

Had been in Chang’an for so many years, Da Sabao concluded the arrival was of high status at the sight of his fish bag and wearing color. Until they exchanged salute and name, Da Sabao knew he was the well-known He Zhizhang and grew quite serious. He Zhizhang said slowly, bowing, “I was shocked to hear that a gangster broke into your temple and killed Xianzheng. It’s the duty of Jing’an Department to prevent thieves and defend Chang’an, so we will never ignore this matter. We have sent capable officials to thoroughly investigate it; no violence offences would be tolerated!”

‘Hold on!’ Da Sabao felt that something was wrong, what He Zhizhang said sounded like he was shuffling off responsibility of Jing’an Department. Sabao couldn’t help raising his angry brows, saying in awkward Chinese, “It is clearly that you chased the thief and forced him into our temple....”

He Zhizhang broke in, “Thanks for the bravery of your believers to have killed the thief. I’ll report it to the Emperor and ask commendation for you.”

He Zhizhang tried the best to, on the one hand, pass the buck, on the other hand, give him a sop, and also implied that he had the ear of the Emperor. However, Da Sabao beat the ground with his walking stick, furious to the offer, “Xianzheng is an innocent victim involved in the pursuit of culprit. You must come up with a solution of the issue. Otherwise, I can’t suppress believer uprisings.”

Xianism (Zoroastrianism) had long been a minor religion in Chang’an, and only spread among the Hu merchants, so the court had set up Sabao Office to manage them with Jimi system (regional ethnic autonomy). However, the Xianism followers always acted together, which would easily cause turmoil when dispute occurred. Therefore, when it came to Xianist affairs, Tang officials often dealt it cautiously with conciliatory approach. It never failed.

While He Zhizhang’s face changed, “Sabao, do you know who the killer is?” Seeing Da Sabao was stunned, He Zhizhang said, “He is Turkic Khan’s wolf guard, and sneaks into Chang’an to make trouble for the Emperor on the Lantern Festival.”

Bang! Hearing the words, the tea bowl in Sabao’s hand fell to the ground.

“Turks trying to hurt the Emperor? Oh, my Mazda (God of the Xianism)....” He received reports that the Xianzheng was killed, yet nothing about the wolf guards. If the Turks were involved, the thing was totally different. Da Sabao knew it was the court’s bottom line that couldn’t be stepped on.

He Zhizhang keenly captured the change on Sabao’s face, and continued, “Though he was beaten to death before your temple, a key item had been stolen from him. If we can’t find it out, there will be a catastrophe.”

He was obviously implying that as long as it hadn’t been found, the Xianism couldn’t get away with the wolf guards. If Da Sabao insisted on instigating the believers to riot, it was crime of rebellion in league with Turks.

Da Sabao protested loudly, “Xianzheng was killed by the thief. Xianism can never collaborate with Turks.”

It should be him to ask He Zhizhang for explanation, while the word he blurted out instantly exchanged their aura. Instead of pushing him for victory, He Zhizhang said smilingly, “I always know that Xianists believes in courtesy and integrity, unlike to collude with evils, only used by thieves.”

As Da Sabao was relieved, He Zhizhang said again, “Good god Mazda once said: Good thinking, words, and deeds are all merits. Since you abandon three evils and commit to three good, how do you hold a candle to the devil?”

The remark immediately made Da Sabao’s eyes light up. “Mazda is the Lord God of Xianism; the saying of three good and three evils are Xianist idioms, how does he know?”

Due to the complexity of doctrines, Xianism didn’t prosper in Chang’an. And most of government officials called Mazda by “Hu Sky” or “Hu God”, never intended to a more in-depth understanding. Da Sabao had been in Chang’an for over twenty years from Persia, and regretting for long that soul mate was hard to find. He Zhizhang’s words were the first time that senior official of Tang formally quoted Xianist doctrine.

Knowing it was close enough, He Zhizhang bowed with solemn face, saying emotionally, “Now that Chang’an is in trouble, hope you can light pure bonfires together with Jing’an Department to sweep the evils.”

On hearing the words “light pure bonfires”, Da Sabao had tears in his eyes. As fire was highly respected by Xianism, the four words really hit the mark. The old man stood up trembling, put his stick aside, hands in the shape of a flame across his chest, bowed low to He Zhizhang.

“Supervisor He, Xianist followers will lead the way for you!”

Rosefinch Street was a wide and magnificent road running through the North and South, also the north-south axis of entire Chang’an. The center of the pavement was slightly arched, with deep trenches on both sides, and the width from East to West was about 150 steps. Covered with a thick layer of sand from Chanhe River, the road looked like a bluish white river, dividing the outer city of Chang’an into Chang’an and Wannian counties. On both sides of the street were tall locust trees and elms, with a pair of solemn stone carvings stood opposite every 100 steps.

This was a royal road for the Emperor; civilians were allowed to cross it at designated nine intersections, no crossing the line or running. After Wen Ran walked on the road, she had to stand in the queue and move forward slowly. Fortunately, the two young loafers chasing her dared not to take bold action on the royal road and only followed her far behind.

Wen Ran sighed with relief after safely walking across the street. There were so many aristocratic families in Anren Fang whose gates could face street, so they didn’t have to pass Fang gate. At first glance, a dozen of red gates with carved eaves were under the Fang wall. Lady Wang’s house gate was the third on right decorated with four elms, two animal stones representing loyalty and twelve Ji (weapon like Halberd), which was distinctive.

“Lady Wang’s father is senior official in court. I’ll be safe with her.”

Thinking of this, Wen Ran quickly walked up. When she was close to the gate of Wang’s, the gate burst open to both sides to let a peculiar carriage pass.

The carriage was not drawn by horse nor cattle, but two white camels, with low railings made of cloud wood on both sides and no ceiling. It looked as if the camels were dragging an Arhat bed. A tall girl was gazing ahead, hands on the front railing. She had hair done in a high bun with a silver band, and wore a turquoise coat and red cloud boots, looking very cool.

Wen Ran stood by the animal stones and shouted, “Sister Wang!” The lady stooped, smiling, “Oh, it’s you, Wen Ran. You smell good even 500m away. Have you brought my gods-calling rue incenses?”

Wen Ran was about to explain when Lady Wang beckoned to her, “G, let’s talk later.”

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