Chapter Six: The City of Chang’an

Once a person has a goal, an extraordinary passion is awakened within them. And when a group possesses a shared goal, countless miracles can be achieved.

Now, the Mohist Village was precisely such a collective, busy at work like the intricate parts of a grand machine, each person playing their role. The fishermen remained in the river, casting their nets endlessly. The road-builders had repaired every path in the village with meticulous care, rolling them flat and sturdy with stone rollers—so well made, their quality rivaled that of official roads. The village streets even stretched five li outward, connecting directly to the main road.

Such an unusual scene startled the neighboring villages, whose people came in droves, eager to know what was happening. Yet the villagers of Mohist Village merely smiled and said nothing.

“What a joke! This is the very foundation of our village’s revival—why would we share our secret?” scoffed Li Yi, after sending another curious group away.

“Wonderful!”

Li Yi gazed at the bustle and energy of Mohist Village, feeling a joy he hadn’t experienced in ages. Filled with confidence in the village’s future, he wasn’t sure if they could become the wealthiest in all of Tang, but he was certain they would surpass the neighboring villages.

Three days later, just as dawn broke, Mo Dun was roused by Zi Yi. This time, he did not mind being awakened, for today was the day they would go to Chang’an to sell their fish.

“Fifteen water carts!”

Mo Dun was delighted to see fifteen water carts lined up neatly before the Mo family estate—far more than the number they had anticipated.

“Master Zhang, you’ve worked hard!” Mo Dun said gratefully.

“It was everyone’s effort. For three days, we took turns and never stopped working, so we managed to build five more carts,” Old Zhang replied modestly.

Mo Dun tapped gently on the wooden boards atop a water cart, listening to the sloshing as the fish inside slapped at the water. A satisfied smile spread across his face. Mohist Village was truly worthy as the last stronghold of the Mohist legacy; not a single skill handed down from their ancestors had been lost.

He was quite pleased with these water carts, and had even improved upon them. By harnessing the rotation of the wheels to drive an oxygenator, the fish were supplied with fresh air as they traveled—saving manpower and keeping the mechanism a secret, achieving two goals at once.

“Young master! All the fish have been loaded!” reported Uncle Fu, bowing.

Mo Dun nodded and turned to take in the hopeful, yet anxious faces of the villagers around him. They gazed at him with anticipation—and a fear that their dream might be shattered.

“Villagers! Please rest assured—this time, Mohist Village will surely succeed!” Mo Dun promised them.

“Let’s move out,” Mo Dun commanded with a grand sweep of his arm.

Each water cart was manned by seven young men: two to pull, one to steer, and four to push from behind. That’s right—every cart was powered by people. Mohist Village was so poor, they didn’t even have a single draft ox.

The distance from Mohist Village to Chang’an was fifty li. Every ten li, the entire caravan would stop for a thorough check.

After ten li, the fish were still alive.

After twenty li, they remained lively and vigorous.

After thirty li, nothing was amiss.

At forty li, each fish was leisurely blowing bubbles, indistinguishable from those in the river.

At fifty li, with the city of Chang’an in sight, Li Yi tossed in some fish feed and listened to the thunderous splashing as the fish scrambled for food. The weight in his heart finally eased.

“We did it this time!” Li Yi exchanged an elated glance with Uncle Fu, unable to hide their joy.

Looking at Mo Dun, still full of energy after fifty li, their hearts surged with excitement. At this rate, the rise of Mohist Village was within reach.

Chang’an—Chang’an, the ancient capital of a thousand years.

Mo Dun’s heart was pounding with excitement. The fatigue of the long journey had vanished. To have come to this great dynasty, this magnificent city—how could he not be overwhelmed?

It wasn’t that Mo Dun wasn’t tired after fifty li, but his spirits were so high he barely felt it.

“We’ve reached Chang’an!” Li Xin’s voice rang out from the front.

Everyone was instantly roused. This was Chang’an—the very heart of the Empire, and the land of their hopes.

Mo Dun looked up. A massive city gate appeared in his vision. Though he had seen a replica of these walls in the future, witnessing the real thing revealed a unique sense of history.

The ancient walls were pockmarked and uneven, scars from countless battles. Here and there, faint moss grew in inconspicuous places—a quiet trace of the years gone by. A dense aura of solemnity and violence lingered, something no modern reconstruction could replicate.

The city gate was wide, easily allowing four carts to pass side by side. Several soldiers stood at the entrance, performing routine inspections of passing travelers and merchants.

Li Yi unfurled the Mo family banner. Now that Mo Dun held the title of County Earl, he enjoyed certain privileges and could enter Chang’an without waiting in line.

Chang’an was the center of politics, economy, and culture. Merchants, scholars, and even foreign envoys and Western Region traders all gathered here. The prosperity was beyond anything the poor, remote Mohist Village could imagine. The young men gawked, utterly captivated.

“Look, that’s a foreigner! Green eyes and red hair—how terrifying!” one of the lads exclaimed at the sight of a boisterous stranger.

“What are you staring at? Have you never seen the world?” Li Yi scolded loudly.

“Father, it’s not like we’ve been here before,” Li Xin replied, aggrieved.

“If we succeed this time, you’ll be able to live in Chang’an in the future!” Li Yi declared.

“Really?” the young men exclaimed, delighted.

“Of course it’s true!” Mo Dun called out.

“When Mohist Village prospers, Chang’an will be our focus. We’ll assign people to live here permanently. It all depends on your performance. Who knows—perhaps you’ll even marry a foreign maiden!” Mo Dun encouraged them.

More than a hundred young men felt their spirits soar. The fatigue of their fifty-li march vanished, replaced by burning ambition. To stay in Chang’an was a dream come true!

As for marrying foreign women, that was out of the question—village rules forbade it. They would rather remain bachelors for life than take a foreign wife.

Looking at the spirited young men, Mo Dun was quietly moved. These were the village’s best—selected for their vigor and wit. Entrusting them with this first mission in Chang’an meant placing the future of Mohist Village in their hands.

Gazing at the bustling streets, the endless flow of people, and the lively calls of the shopkeepers on either side, Mo Dun cried out in his heart:

“Great Tang, I am here!”