It had been quite a while since Ning Que and Sangsang left Chang'an. As the carriage rolled down the Vermilion Bird Avenue, Ning Que and Sangsang peered at the street through the window. The familiar view definitely roused their emotions.
And just like those at the West-Hill Divine Palace, the people here in Chang'an did not notice the black horse carriage and could not be bothered to take even one more look at it.
In the east Vermilion Bird Avenue, buildings were shorter. The area was named the Eastern City.
A carriage rolled into the long-missed Lin 47th Street, and it stopped at the gate of the Old Brush Pen Shop.
You could still hear the Wus, who sold counterfeit antiques next door, quarreling. You could also see the oil stain left by the peddler selling hot and sour sliced noodle soup at the alley's entrance.