River Banquet County was home to the Yang Clan.
A Hot River wound around the city. Though the world outside was locked in ice and snow, River Banquet County was as warm as spring.
Upon entering, one found vast stretches of fertile fields and row upon row of houses. Farmers cracked their whips as oxen plowed; men carried shoulder poles to spread fertilizer among vegetable plots; women crouched along the ridges, pulling weeds with their heads bent over their work.
Xuanming led his donkey past, drawing the attention of many farmers. The older folk believed in the Dao and smiled as they offered him rather imperfect Daoist salutes. The younger men fixed their eyes on the donkey, full of longing and envy. What a sturdy beast—surely a first-rate hand at plowing! Their naked stares sent a chill through the spirit deer Longevity's coat. Uneasy, she could not help quickening her steps, making Xuanming laugh.
Passing farmstead after farmstead and field after field, Xuanming arrived beneath the towering walls. River Banquet County's city stood just ahead.
He stepped through the gate, and the rich bustle of everyday life washed over him. Compared with Moon Spring County, River Banquet City had only five hundred-odd years of history. It bore less of the weathered weight deposited by the ages, and its buildings and layout were less refined, more rugged.
That was because this was a martial city, with few scholars and many warriors. Travelers of the martial world carrying swords and sabers could be seen in every street and alley. Its people were fierce, its atmosphere exuberant.
A gray-haired old woman effortlessly pushed a millstone weighing several dozen pounds as she sold tofu on the street; an eight-foot-tall old man strode along with a hundred pounds of sorghum on his shoulder; a delicate-looking