Eight rivers surround Chang'an

     "Chang'an" is a name derived from the hope of "long-term stability" that Liu Bang, the founder of the Han Dynasty, chose as his capital after unifying China. From the Han to the Tang dynasties, it was called Chang'an. Later, it had many names, but it was officially named "Xi'an" in 1368 after Zhu Yuanzhang established the Ming Dynasty in Nanjing. The following spring, General Xu Da captured Fengyuan Road (present-day Xi'an) and renamed it Xi'an, a name that evokes the idea of ​​stabilizing Northwest China.

    Xi'an is the ancient capital of thirteen dynasties and the cradle of Chinese culture. There is an ancient saying that "eight rivers surround Chang'an," and it also boasts the "Eight Scenic Spots of Guanzhong": Taibai Snow, Xianyang Ancient Ferry, Ba Liu Snow, Lishan Sunset, Caotang Mist (Qin Town, Huxian County), Huayue Immortal Palm, Wild Goose Pagoda Morning Bell (Small Wild Goose Pagoda), and Qujiang Flowing Wine. The Silk Road originated here, feudal dynasties rose and flourished here, and the Epang Palace, Weiyang Palace, Daming Palace, and Xingqing Palace all lie dormant here.
    Every day on my way to work, I traverse the city walls built between the 3rd and 20th years of the Ming Dynasty's Hongwu reign. Although I know this city and these walls are no longer masterpieces of the Han and Tang Dynasties, both above and below ground, they have buried or embodied a kind of scarcity. This scarcity can be a tangible heritage or an intangible heritage expressed through ideology. Whether you are a guardian or a thief, when you encounter it, it can stir up the greed deep within human nature. Because when you encounter it, you can easily perceive its priceless value from the initial encounter, only in the end, the behavior of the guardian and the thief undergoes a fundamental change.
    Chang'an arose in the Han Dynasty but flourished in the Tang Dynasty. The "Qin King's Battle Music," also known as the Qin King's Melody, still exists, while the "Eight Rivers Surrounding Chang'an," praised by countless literati, has gradually disappeared. The "Qin King's Battle Music" still showcases the heroism of the Qin people, still telling that magnificent history in its lingering charm. As for the image of "beautiful women by the waters of Chang'an," it has faded into the mists of history, lost to time, becoming a mere ink painting, something to be felt but not described, amidst today's skyscrapers. "The Tang Dynasty was the golden age of ancient Chinese culture, with scholars and literati flocking to Chang'an. The calendar system of Yi Xing, the medicine of Sun Simiao, and the painting of Wu Daozi all surpassed their predecessors. The prose of Han Yu and Liu Zongyuan, and the poetry of Li Bai and Du Fu, reached the highest level of ancient poetry and prose. The calligraphy of Yan Zhenqing and Liu Gongquan created a new style, becoming models for all time. Xuanzang translated Buddhist scriptures at the Big Wild Goose Pagoda for 19 years, and his *Great Tang Records on the Western Regions* is an important document recording ancient Sino-Western communication and the history and geography of India and Central Asia."
    From Chang'an to Xi'an, it may be a short distance, or it may be a vast distance. It may be a short distance because Chang'an and Xi'an are the same place; it may be a vast distance because it is the former imperial capital of the Celestial Empire. Although, after thousands of years, it has unknowingly faded into the dust of history, becoming like a yellowed book, turned over and gently closed, due to political, economic, cultural, and eastward shifts in center. New authors and new books begin to appear before the eyes of contemporary people, just as Xi'an replaced Chang'an; just as this once imperial capital of one of the four ancient civilizations, spanning a long period, gradually lost its luster over the years, replaced by the rising Bianzhou, Hangzhou, Nanjing, and Beijing—perhaps a permanent replacement; just as a retiring bureau chief must relinquish his cherished position to the new one, albeit reluctantly, it is necessary. No one can stop this cycle of aging and replacement, because you must understand the principle of metabolism; perhaps only in this way can you accept the desolation of your twilight years.
    Cities undergo endless changes over time, and this place has rejected too many talented individuals who had no way to serve their country. These talented individuals, skilled in both literature and military prowess, were discarded and ignored in this city's peaceful and prosperous era by treacherous and wicked men who believed "no talent is left unused." They were both rulers and ministers. The ruler, indulging in lust, relinquished the empire to these scoundrels. And the ministers? Jealous and resentful of talent, like Jia Yi and Li Bai. This should be seen as a tragedy of a peaceful and prosperous era, a tragedy of abandoning the empire for a ruler who disregards his country, and a tragedy for this city itself. But precisely because of their departure, their talent and their integrity have become a monument for posterity to admire. Now, those talented individuals are gone, and so are those treacherous men who vie for fame and power, leaving only a peaceful world, only an empty city. Yet, another group, dressed in different clothes and carrying different thoughts, has entered the scene to fill the void, continuing the story of their era, because ultimately, a city is meant to house human affairs.
    Although this city might be considered a second-tier city in the postmodern era, the historical flowers that bloomed upon it, after thousands of years of weathering the storms, still retain their beauty and fragrance, remaining as magnificent as the peony of the nation. While the city may appear somewhat old-fashioned, the unique splendor it once possessed is irreplaceable, placing it in a position that these later developments cannot even dream of, admired by the world, praised by all, and discussed throughout history.
    When the era of cutting-edge technology arrived, the ubiquitous concrete, unique to this time, used the same methods to construct similarly structured modern cities in different regions. The differences might lie only in the different landscapes, names, and the different histories they once carried. As for those barely preserved historical sites, they are completely obscured by modern civilization. Even when examined with a holistic and modern perspective, these relics that have traversed the tunnels of history might appear dilapidated, low-lying, conservative, unsurpassable, or incongruous. Perhaps the cultural significance inherent in these historical sites within the city is more important than their material form. Perhaps after an earthquake like the one in Wenchuan, those high-rise buildings with earthquake resistance of magnitude six or seven survived, while these ancient sites, having emerged from the distant past, tragically reached the brink of collapse, or perhaps, with a precarious air, still stand between heaven and earth amidst the deafening crash.
    Looking back at history, the once magnificent palaces of this city—the Epang Palace, Weiyang Palace, Daming Palace, Xingqing Palace, and other historical sites associated with imperial grandeur—are now, like the Summer Palace in Beijing, just a small part of the iceberg, or a drop in the ocean. Later generations, through historical research, have separated those who, over thousands of years, reclaimed the imperial palace grounds, restoring history to its original state, to the Qin and Han dynasty bricks and tiles, and letting its extinguished flames be rekindled. Too much time and too many people have given this city too many stories.
    Perhaps to people, a city is merely a blank canvas. It is through human participation and design that a city, over countless years, transforms into a series of landscape paintings, each with its own unique charm, hanging in the long corridor of history for contemplative interpretation. It is also these numerous stories that have allowed this city, which once stood at the forefront of history, to experience such a rich fusion of cultures. Thus, Han and Tang dynasty literati like Sima Qian, Li Bai, and Du Fu used their talent to leave behind a memory for this city, and to erect a monument in its honor.
    A renowned cultural city should leave the world not merely with the mists of history, but with an evergreen pine tree growing from its profound cultural soil. This city has witnessed the rise and fall of countless high-ranking officials, the submission and homage of numerous vassal states, and the countless stories that have unfolded within it, whether we remember them or not. We must not allow a cultural city imbued with the spirit of China to become an empty shell, "gilded on the outside, rotten on the inside."
    Although we, the later generations, are using various historical studies to reconstruct the original appearance of this well-documented site, can the remaining Qin and Han dynasty bricks and tiles still uphold the city's former glory? Can our yearning for antiquity still linger in that lost "eight rivers encircling Chang'an," allowing us to drink with Li Bai in the mountains and fields, discuss poetry and philosophy with him, travel and enjoy nature with him, and practice swordsmanship and archery with him? To witness his talent when he wrote in the palace, his single stroke frightening away the disrespect of the Bohai Kingdom. To see his aloofness when he wrote in the palace, with Gao Lishi removing his boots and Yang Guozhong grinding ink for him.
    To dream of returning to the Tang Dynasty, to see a city. Perhaps only such a magnanimous figure could match such a grand city. People are the spirit of the city, and people are its lifeblood. Without people, the city will cease to exist, no matter how magnificent it once was. Without people, even the oldest city is just a collapsed palace or a looted tomb.
    Note: (As for the beauty of "eight rivers surrounding Chang'an," these eight rivers refer to the Wei, Jing, Feng, Lao, Yu, Hao, Chan, and Ba rivers, which flow around Xi'an and all belong to the Yellow River system. The Western Han Dynasty writer Sima Xiangru wrote in his famous rhapsody "Shanglin Fu" that "the eight rivers flow majestically, each with its own distinct character," describing the magnificent beauty of the Shanglin Garden during the Han Dynasty. This later gave rise to the description "eight rivers surrounding Chang'an.")