Chapter 445: Qingyun Temple in Yangzhou
Qingnu County, part of Le Commandery in Yangzhou, was also the commandery city of Le Commandery.
Yangzhou had an extensive water system and a thriving river transport network. Qingnu County, built along the water, was traversed by the Qingnu River. This was a stunning Jiangnan commandery city, where all the buildings had white walls and black-tiled roofs. Every morning and evening, a thin mist enveloped the surroundings. The white walls faded into the fog, their boundaries blurring into one.
This city was more prosperous than many prefectural capitals Song You had visited. Shops lined the streets, people bustled about, carriages and horses moved like flowing water and dragons in procession. Compared to Langzhou, it felt like an entirely different world.
Beyond its wealth and liveliness, the city had a distinct charm. As one walked the streets, one could often hear the songs of boatmen from the Qingnu River, the recitation of poetry by scholars standing at the bow of their boats, or the graceful melodies of instruments drifting from taverns and brothels along the roadside.
Yangzhou, whether in its counties or its commandery city, seemed to have an endless array of winehouses and brothels to explore. This was part of its irresistible allure.
No wonder Princess Changping had loved visiting Yangzhou in her youth.
Moreover, anything available for purchase in the Great Yan could be found here as well.
Song You found an inn by the river and booked a stay for half a month. This was the shortest period for which the innkeeper was willing to offer a discount, and Song You also intended to take the time to rid himself of the lingering wilderness aura from Yaozhou and Langzhou.
For the first two days, he wandered around, exchanging the excess honey that Lady Calico had collected along the way for money, restocking the oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and spices that had been consumed during the journey, and even making himself a new pair of shoes. But after that, he seldom ventured out.
Most of the time, he leaned against the window, half his body extending out, silently watching the emerald waters of the river below and the endless stream of boats passing by. No one knew what he was thinking.
When he grew tired of watching, he would write his travel notes.