Pei Ye and Xie Chuantang dismounted on the eastern shore. Looking out, they found that the early morning had yet to grow bustling and noisy. Beyond the lakeside embankment with its weeping willows stood many pavilions and towers, some extending into the lake; along the lakeside street were numerous restaurants and shops, all seemingly doing thriving business.
"Look, any place with Taiping bells hanging from the eaves belongs to the Transport Gang." Xie Chuantang pointed casually, taking Pei Ye's horse and tethering both beneath a willow. "I counted a month ago. They occupy a quarter of this street."
Pei Ye looked over. Those were palm-sized iron cast bells, with the two characters for "Taiping" engraved in gold. An ordinary person would have taken them for fashionable decorations.
Then he looked toward the western shore, where the "Winter Prison" Xie Chuantang had mentioned lay.
But first, the splendor of the southern shore intercepted his gaze.
Flying Mirror Tower, the tallest building beside the lake, resembled a tree growing in the water. Now it alone stood out in silhouette against the sky; at night, it would be studded with lamps and candles, its reflection forming a giant sword plunged into West Pool for quenching.
At the hilt of this magnificent West Pool sword lay a cluster of pavilions and towers. If the embankment stretching dozens of li had a final destination for all its splendor, this was it.
Half on shore and half over water, this place held three of the Thirteen Platforms of the Divine Capital, and, besides Flying Mirror Tower, another three of the Nine Towers of the Western City. The scholars and cultivators gathering there were often refined, distinguished gentlemen and True Disciples of renowned schools. Countless people came every day to sing of and savor its elegance: a