Past the steel city gate, the view suddenly opened up.
A broad, level avenue ran straight into the heart of the city. Every bluestone slab paving it was three chi square, fitted together so tightly that not even a hair could slip between them. The seams were filled with a special mortar made by the Mohist Pavilion. Underfoot, it was as solid as iron, without the slightest sense of sinking.
At such a width, let alone eight carriages traveling abreast—even ten side by side would not seem crowded.
Two rows of towering trees lined both sides of the avenue, their trunks thick and their foliage lush. Stone benches stood beneath them, where many commoners rested their feet, eating pastries wrapped in paper with great relish.
To the left of the avenue, behind the gateway from which the Iron Dragon Horse had emerged, stood a bluestone platform a zhang high.
An awning had been erected above the platform, and beneath it, wooden signs stood in neat rows, bearing names such as "Handan," "Xianyang," and "Lieren." Clearly, these were stops for the Iron Dragon Horse.
Two gleaming iron rails stretched out from the gateway. The enormous Iron Dragon Horse lay across the middle of the platform, while many commoners carrying bundles made their way into its carriages. Others stepped down from the train, smiling as they greeted those who had come to meet them. The stream of people never ceased, yet it was far from disorderly.
From time to time, disciples of the Mohist Pavilion in blue uniforms maintained order. Their movements were crisp and efficient, without the least bit of sluggishness.
Qiongxiao stared at the Iron Dragon Horse stretched across the platform, then turned to look at the commoners coming and going, carrying bundles as they boarded and disembarked. Bewilderment flickered