Xi'an Audio Guide

Chapter 1 · A Farmer's Discovery

In March 1974, villagers from Xiyang Village in Lintong were digging a well for irrigation east of the Qin Shi Huang Mausoleum. As they dug, they kept turning up pottery shards, clay limbs, and horse remains. Realizing something was unusual, they reported the finds to the heritage authorities, and an archaeological team soon moved in to survey the site. After more than a year of test excavation, archaeologists confirmed that the underground deposit was a large burial pit, now known as Pit 1 of the Terracotta Army. In 1976, Pits 2 and 3 were discovered nearby. The three pits are closely arranged, and all the clay figures face east. Together they form a complete underground military formation. Pit 1 is the largest and main pit. It measures 230 meters from east to west and 62 meters from north to south, covering more than 14,000 square meters. Based on the density of the arrangement, archaeologists estimate that it originally held about 6,000 terracotta warriors and horses, along with large quantities of bronze weapons. In its original state, it would have been a formidable sight. But when the team first saw the site, there was no orderly formation, only wreckage. The pit was built from timber and earth. Over the centuries, the wooden roof frames rotted and collapsed, crushing many of the clay figures. Burn marks in the soil also confirm that the pit was deliberately damaged by fire. The intact standing warriors we see today are the result of decades of archaeological restoration. Workers have cleaned, numbered, compared, and pieced together enormous numbers of fragments. Many figures were broken into more than a hundred pieces, and workers even carefully sifted through tiny fragments weighing less than a gram. This long restoration effort has continued from the 1970s to the present, allowing the Qin army, shattered for millennia, to stand once again.

Chapter 1 · Two Assassins

This story did not happen here, but Pit 3 of the Terracotta Army, with its high-ranking battle formation, is a good setting for telling it. It is the story of one of the most famous assassins in Chinese history. More than 2,200 years ago, Qin's push to conquer all the other states looked nearly unstoppable. The small state of Yan faced collapse, so its king decided to send two assassins to kill the ruler of Qin. He chose two men. Qin Wuyang was young, fierce, and violent; he had killed a man with a knife at twelve, and people did not dare meet his eyes. In his hometown, he was seen as a bloodthirsty madman. Jing Ke, by contrast, had spent years traveling among the states, watching the chaos, making friends, and often drinking and chatting casually with friends in the marketplace. Once given the mission, their reactions were completely different. Qin Wuyang was thrilled and impatient; he saw it as a perfect chance to win glory and make his name, and wanted to leave for Qin at once. Jing Ke stayed calm and kept delaying. He was waiting for a close friend from far away, hoping the friend would arrive so they could face this near-certain death together.

Chapter 1 · Setting Out

Nearly 1,400 years ago, the twenty-seven-year-old Xuanzang had already spent more than ten years practicing at a monastery in Chang'an. Day after day he chanted sutras and meditated, and he knew the scriptures of every school by heart. Yet the more he read, the more questions troubled him. The scriptures available then were incomplete on life, death, rebirth, and where the human heart finally comes to rest. Their interpretations contradicted one another, so they never gave him a complete answer. He had heard that in the distant Buddhist land of India the most complete teachings of Buddhism were preserved, so he packed his things and set out alone toward the west. On the day he left Chang'an, he took only a horse, a bag of dried food, and a waterskin. That journey would stretch for twenty-five thousand li. Scorching deserts stretched endlessly, and freezing snow mountains rose into the sky. Along the way he crossed dozens of small Western Region kingdoms, each with its own language and customs. Blazing sun, bitter cold, thirst, hunger, sickness, and injury followed one after another. More than once, when he was so exhausted he could barely go on, three blurry figures would appear before his eyes, noisily scuffling and joking as they followed behind him. The three figures were three monsters, each with a different appearance. One was a fierce, violent monkey carrying a staff on its back. One was a clumsy wild boar with a rake over its shoulder. The third was a tall, grim-faced demon with a terrifying presence. The three figures would softly call him "Master," but the instant he turned to look closely, the space around him was empty. There was nothing there.

Chapter 1 · The Story Begins at Huaqing Pool

The Huaqing Pool where we now stand was a private hot-spring retreat for the Tang imperial family. It has stood here for more than a thousand years, through both the Tang dynasty's height and the beginning of its decline. Many people know this place because of a love story between an emperor and a beloved woman, passed down for centuries. At that time, the Tang was enjoying the Kaiyuan era, a period of great prosperity. After years of stable growth, ordinary people lived comfortably, envoys from many lands came to pay tribute, and Chang'an was the most prosperous capital in the world. Emperor Xuanzong had worked hard in his early reign and created this flourishing age. But after years of ruling, he grew weary. In his later years he preferred quiet leisure and often came to Mount Li and Huaqing Pool, with its clear mountain scenery, to rest and relax. By the late Kaiyuan years, the palace felt empty, and the aging Emperor Xuanzong was often melancholy. During one visit to Mount Li and Huaqing Pool, he summoned Yang Yuhuan, a woman of striking beauty, skilled in music and dance. The young and beautiful Yang Yuhuan stayed by Xuanzong's side after that, easing the loneliness of his later years. Xuanzong often brought her to Huaqing Pool on Mount Li to escape the summer heat and spend time together. The royal retreat became the place where they were most often together.

Chapter 1 · Driven by the Fear of Death

More than 2,200 years ago, Qin Shi Huang first unified China. At that time, he was the sole ruler of the realm, holding supreme power over all its territory and wealth, and achieved an imperial feat no earlier ruler had matched. After conquering every rival and bringing order to the world of men, he was trapped by something no one can escape: death. He could end wars and reshape the land, but he could not break the natural cycle of birth, old age, sickness, and death. Having reached the height of earthly success, his fear of losing it all only grew stronger. This deep unwillingness and obsession completely changed his character. In his early years, he was diligent, open-minded, and ambitious, focused on governing and stabilizing the country. In his later years, his desire for immortality made him suspicious, stubborn, cruel, and quick to anger. In pursuit of immortals and elixirs, he conscripted large numbers of laborers, drained the treasury, and neglected the people's welfare. To silence criticism from court and commoners, he tightly controlled public opinion, increased punishments, and ruled through harsh measures. The enlightened ruler who once had the realm at heart ended up as a prisoner trapped by the fear of death. In the second half of his life, his only obsession was pursuing immortality at all costs.

Chapter 1 · The Xuanwu Gate Incident

This Xuanwu Gate is not the most famous one in Chinese history. But let us borrow this place to tell you a story. When a dynasty rises to create a golden age, three key figures gather around a great emperor: a warrior in armor, a far-sighted strategist, and a sinister, cunning schemer. Fourteen hundred years ago, when the new Tang dynasty had just been founded, there were also three such key figures. The warrior's name was Li Shimin. The strategist's name was Li Shimin. The schemer's name was Li Shimin. And the emperor's name was also Li Shimin. At that time, the Tang dynasty had just risen from the ruins of the previous dynasty, but the struggle over succession already cast a shadow over Xi'an. According to the rules of imperial succession, the next emperor was to be Li Shimin's elder brother. Even though Li Shimin far surpassed the other princes in military achievements, strength, and reputation, he was not eligible to inherit the throne. Until that day. An ordinary morning. At first light, the palace's Xuanwu Gate opened on schedule, with morning mist still hanging over the walls. The heir apparent, Li Jiancheng, was riding into the palace with his attendants as usual. Just as the party entered the main passage, ambushers burst from both sides. Bowstrings snapped, horses reared and neighed, and the empty palace road was suddenly torn apart by shouts and killing cries. Before Li Jiancheng could turn his horse, an arrow cut through the mist. Blades flashed in the dawn light, and hoofbeats, weapons, and shouts blurred together. The fight did not last long. A few minutes earlier, this had been a quiet palace road. Now the stone slabs were splattered with blood, and Li Jiancheng lay in a pool of blood at Xuanwu Gate. Then Li Shimin stepped slowly out of the shadows.

Chapter 1 · Just a Subway Project

At the start of this century, major Chinese cities were carrying out large-scale rail transit construction. In most places, construction followed established procedures, and schedules could generally be predicted once pipelines and soil conditions had been addressed. Xi'an also launched its Metro Line 2 project, aiming to build the city's main north-south axis. At the time, no one imagined that this routine public works project would face a challenge unique to Xi'an, hidden beneath the soil. In other cities, construction problems mostly came from modern urban infrastructure. In Xi'an, the obstacles came entirely from historical remains underground. During construction of Line 2 in 2009, surveys along the route uncovered more than 130 ancient tombs and more than 200 artifacts, with 57 cultural relic protection points along the entire line. As construction advanced, crews were constantly contending with ancient tombs. From then on, Xi'an subway construction followed a regular procedure. Whenever workers found unusual soil conditions, work stopped immediately and an archaeology team came in to survey, date, excavate, and record the layers. Only after all that work was complete could the construction team resume. The schedule depended entirely on the complexity of the underground remains. Workers from outside Xi'an had the hardest time adjusting to this rule. At other construction sites, broken stone and leftover soil could be cleared as waste. In Xi'an, any old object found underground had to be reported and inspected first. Over time, the work sites developed an unspoken understanding: never handle unearthed items casually. No one dared bet that the soil did not contain a thousand-year-old relic.

Chapter 1 · Eating in Chang'an

More than 1,300 years ago, Xi'an was the capital of the Tang Dynasty. Back then it was called Chang'an. History books may focus on Chang'an's emperors, generals, and court conflicts, but its culture also lived in the daily routines of ordinary people. The High Tang was open-minded and inclusive, and frequent cultural exchange made Chang'an lively, diverse, and far more free-spirited than people today might imagine. If you want to understand the High Tang, the best place to begin is at a Chang'an dining table. Many people assume that ancient diets were monotonous, but more than a thousand years ago Chang'an was already a cosmopolitan food city, and the daily meals of ordinary people carried traces of the Silk Road. The most distinctive feature of High Tang food was the popularity of dishes from the Western Regions. Once the Silk Road opened, merchants from those regions gathered in Chang'an and brought their food into everyday markets, completely reshaping the Central Plains' original dining landscape. Freshly baked flatbreads could be seen on every street corner, crisp outside and soft inside, sometimes stuffed with meat, sometimes sprinkled with sesame, fragrant and loved by everyone from aristocrats and scholars to commoners. Roast lamb, soups from the Western Regions, and other such dishes spread widely, making Chang'an's cuisine richer and more varied. Flavors from the Western Regions touched every part of Tang dining. After grape wine reached Chang'an, it quickly became fashionable; it was common at formal banquets and casual get-togethers alike, adding a lively touch to everyday life. Cumin, black pepper, fennel, and other imported spices took root in Chang'an, adding depth to dishes and changing the Central Plains' previously mild, one-note flavors. Tang people did not eat simply to fill their stomachs. Chang'an showed no resistance to foreign ingredients and new ways of eating. Foreign flavors gradually blended into local cooking, creating a street-food character that belonged to Chang'an alone.

Chapter 1 · War Machine

Qin Shi Huang was the first ruler to unify China under a single imperial government. He brought centuries of division and warfare to an end, standardized writing, currency, weights, and measures, established the commandery-county system, and created a political framework that would shape China for the next two thousand years. But his conquest of the six rival states owed less to personal genius than to the system he inherited. That system had already been taking shape for a century. It was ruthless, highly organized, and built for war. Its foundations were laid by Shang Yang’s reforms in 356 BC. The reforms transformed Qin from a loose feudal state into a state increasingly organized around one purpose: winning wars. Agriculture, taxation, social rank, and military service were all drawn into the same system. Before this transformation, warfare had largely been dominated by nobles and aristocratic clans. In Qin, the state reached much further down into ordinary society. An individual’s future became tied directly to what he could produce for the state and what he could achieve on the battlefield. Hereditary privilege was stripped back. A noble family could no longer rely forever on the achievements of its ancestors. Rank and land had to be justified by service and military merit. For ordinary people, the choices narrowed. Farming was rewarded because it produced grain for the army. Military service was rewarded because it produced victories. Other paths to wealth or status were restricted or discouraged. The logic was brutally simple. Produce grain, or fight. Households were registered and taxed. Grain flowed into state granaries. Men could be called into military service. On the battlefield, promotion depended not on family background but on military achievement. An enemy head could be turned directly into rank, land, and reward. For many Qin soldiers, war became the only realistic path upward. The system reached deep into everyday life. Household registers recorded families, adult men, land, and taxable resources in extraordinary detail. Local officials knew who lived where, what land they worked, and what obligations they owed. Households were also organized into groups that shared responsibility for one another. Neighbors had strong reasons to watch each other and report violations. Hiding people, grain, or resources from the state became increasingly difficult. This gave Qin something its rivals struggled to match. When the government needed soldiers, it could summon them. When an army needed grain and fodder, the state could requisition them on a vast scale. Orders moved downward through the system, and people were expected to obey. There was little room for negotiation. Over the course of a century, Qin turned itself into one of the most efficient war machines of the ancient world.

Chapter 1 · The Sleeping Underground Empire

Standing before the pits of the Terracotta Army, looking at thousands of pottery soldiers in ordered ranks, most visitors assume this is where Qin Shi Huang is buried. It is a very common misunderstanding. In fact, the terracotta formations, the bronze chariots and horses, and the various burial pits are only the outer annexes of the mausoleum, the honor guard and escort troops of an underground empire. The emperor's actual main burial chamber lies quietly sealed under a distant mound of earth. For more than two thousand years it has never been robbed, and modern archaeologists have never opened it. The mausoleum complex is vast. The areas excavated and displayed today are only a small part of the cemetery. Its true core is the huge earthen mound with Mount Li behind it and the Qin plain in front. After two thousand years of rain, erosion, and upheaval, this hill still stands intact, sealing the main burial chamber of Qin Shi Huang's mausoleum. The authoritative record closest in time to the Qin dynasty comes from Sima Qian's Records of the Grand Historian. It describes Qin Shi Huang's underground palace as a complete replica of an earthly dynasty below ground. Beneath the surface, tiered palaces and audience halls were built to reproduce the layout of the imperial city of Xianyang. Civil and military officials were arranged in order, and rare treasures from across the empire were buried with him. Vast quantities of mercury were used to simulate rivers, lakes, and seas, and the liquid was kept circulating without stopping. The dome was decorated with the sun, moon, and stars, hiding a full sky in the dark underground. Precision mechanical crossbows were installed in the tomb; if anyone forced their way in, they would trigger a rain of arrows to guard this eternal underground city. These accounts were long dismissed as ancient exaggeration. But because the outer burial area is already so grand, people have become even more curious about what the core tomb chamber, still unseen, might contain.