The autumn breeze entered the city. Chang'an knew naught of any worry.
The autumn harvest from each county was sent into the city. The harvest was bountiful this year, and the wrinkled faces of the farmers in the countryside relaxed. Those from the city smiled more too. Leaves from the Ginkgo trees fell, carpeting the floor, bringing a refreshing look to the city.
Like in other seasons, together with the grains came many tourists from other counties and countries. One of them was a man in a white shirt.
There was some dust on the man's shirt. He had a long sword on his back and looked calm and gentle. Few could notice the carefully hidden pride and coldness in his eyes.
He walked amongst the crowd on the streets of Chang'an. Even though all he could see were the heads of other people, all he thought of was the old towers of Chang'an that had existed for millennia.
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