Once the brothers entered the city, both grew cautious. With the southern outskirts looking like that, failing to be cautious would truly have been taking things far too lightly.
Yet once inside, everything was calm-or rather, everything was caught up in a perfectly understandable frenzy.
They were finally moving the capital.
And to Yecheng, no less. Everyone knew of the formidable splendor of its Three Terraces and the vastness of its walls. The surrounding fertile fields boasted the most developed irrigation works since the two Han dynasties, capable of feeding an unimaginable population, while countless waterways naturally channeled the wealth and resources of all Hebei into that one place.
And when people, wealth, and power gathered together, countless unimaginable novelties would spring into being.
For decades, the luxury and might of Later Zhao had bordered on legend. Now, at last, it was the Murong Xianbei regime's turn to enjoy them.
Under these circumstances, almost everyone was discussing and anticipating the move.
Cart prices had already reached absurd heights, yet the high officials and nobles were still competing fiercely. If your household needed thirty carts, mine would prepare fifty. And carts alone were not enough-they had to be filled with wealth and goods to truly display your family's standing.
It made sense. Traveling such a great distance, surely they could not load their carts with bulky things like furniture?
It was impractical, too. Rather than haul one desk from Jixian to Yecheng, they might as well have three new ones made when they arrived.
Thus, most of the furniture made after their earlier move to Jixian was already destined to be abandoned. In neighborhoods thick with officials and nobles, many households had begun chopping their furniture up for firewood.
"Desk-cooked meals" and "bed-cooked meals" had even become fashionable: truly distinguished people