"The Capital city"

The city gates loomed larger as the carriage rolled forward, their size and grandeur, unlike anything I had seen before. Towering walls darkened with age and streaked with moss, stretched high into the sky.

Soon, the gate towered before us. It was an incredibly imposing structure, though its dimensions and design were unexpectedly simple. Unlike my expectations, There were no ornate carvings or elaborate decorations, just solid wood reinforced with iron. 

As we approached, I noticed the guards stationed at the gates, clad in sturdy leather armour and conical helmets. Their spears stood upright, and their faces were stern, though their sharp eyes seemed to take in every detail of the people passing beneath them.

When our carriage drew closer, I was surprised that the guards turned their attention to us, their expressions shifting instantly. Straightening their postures, they bowed deeply as we passed through.

I stiffened, my hands clenching the edge of my seat. It was not a casual bow of politeness—it was deliberate, practiced, and filled with deference. They were bowing to me.

I glanced at Dai Fu, but he kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, his expression unreadable. I was clearly, unused to this.

Completely acting on my instinct, I gave a small, awkward nod in return, unsure if it was the right thing to do. My discomfort faded, however, as the carriage rolled under the arch and into the bustling city beyond.

The first sight of the Capital left me in awe. The street before me stretched wide and straight, lined with shops and stalls overflowing with goods—bright silks, clay pottery, dried herbs, and vibrant fruits that I couldn't even recognise. The buildings were tall and narrow, their roofs curved upward at the edges in the distinct Chinese style. Red lanterns swayed gently above the doorways, their golden tassels catching the faint breeze.

The street was filled with people moving in and out of the city. Soon, My carriage was engulfed in the cacophony of the merchants calling out to the passersby, some asking them to try candied hawthorn, while some selling cheap wares. Children sure stood out to me in the crowd as a few darted through the crowds, passing by the carriage with their laughter ringing in the air.

As the carriage moved further, my nose soon found conciliation with the smell of roasted nuts and steamed buns mingled with the earthiness of the damp streets, creating an aroma that is very similar to what is found in the street markets in Varanasi.

I leaned out of the carriage slightly, trying to absorb the sights around me. The Capital was alive—every corner seemed to hold a new story, a glimpse into lives so different from my own yet somehow familiar. The sound of drums in the distance hinted at some celebration, while the rhythmic clink of a blacksmith's hammer reminded me that this was a place of labour as much as revelry.

A sudden chill swept through the air, and the first heavy drops of rain began to fall. They splattered against the cobblestones and rooftops, leaving dark spots that quickly spread. The lively crowd faltered for a moment before bursting into action. I noticed the stalls were hurriedly covered with oiled cloths, while vendors shouted on their helpers to secure their goods, the pedestrians raised umbrellas or pulled cloaks tighter around themselves.

Sure enough, The downpour had turned the usually bustling scene into something of frantic urgency. Merchants hurried through with carts piled high with goods, their faces set in determined, expressionless masks as they made their way to the shelters. Nearby, weary travellers trudged along, their belongings strapped to their backs, each step heavy with exhaustion as they sought the shelter of the city walls.

Soon, The rain came down in earnest, and the soft drizzle gave way to a steady downpour. The once-lively street grew quieter as the crowd thinned, retreating to the shelter of shops, awnings, and alleys. The sound of raindrops against stone filled the air, a rhythmic melody that had now, softened the sharp edges of the bustling Capital. 

As the street cleared, Our carriage picked up pace. "The rain's clearing the road for us," Dai Fu remarked, his voice cutting through the muted patter of the rain. "The Dragon Alley shouldn't be far now."

I nodded absently, still captivated by the changing scene outside. A young boy darted past our carriage, his bare feet splashing in the puddles as he carried a bundle of firewood under his arm. A woman called after him, her voice lost in the rain, but the boy didn't stop, his laughter echoing faintly as he disappeared into an alley.

I pulled my head back into the carriage and watched the world outside through the window. The cobblestones glistened, reflecting the dim light of lanterns that now seemed to glow brighter against the grey skies. Water streamed from the curved eaves of the rooftops, creating little cascades that splashed onto the streets below. 

Despite the rain's chill, a peculiar warmth was in the air—a sense of life seemingly filled every corner of the city. Even in the storm, the Capital thrived.

As we passed through another turn, the streets narrowed once more, and the familiar noise of the main thoroughfare began to fade. The cobblestones grew more uneven, and the buildings on either side started appearing older, their wooden frames worn by time and weather. A faint smell of damp earth mixed with the tang of smoke from unseen hearths filled the air.

Dai Fu took the carriage carefully through the increasingly confined space. The rain continued to fall steadily, turning the cobbles slick and pooling in shallow depressions. Finally, he stopped the carriage in front of a narrow, shadowed alley.

I leaned forward, frowning as I peered into the dim passageway. The alley was barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Its walls rose high on either side, the wooden facades leaning slightly inward as though conspiring to block out the sky. A faint glow came from a lantern hanging near the entrance, its light flickering in the rain. Beyond that, the alley seemed to disappear into darkness.