Two days later, just as dawn crested the horizon, Qiao Zhi rode up to Suzhou's western gate. The city sprawled before her like an intricate tapestry: high white walls topped with soot-dark tiles, watchtowers standing guard at regular intervals. Beyond the gate, winding streets and clustered rooftops hinted at a place both ancient and alive.
A line of travelers waited patiently to enter. Suzhou's gate guards were known for their strict regulations—no one slipped through without the proper papers. A young soldier with polished armor approached Qiao Zhi, his sharp eyes noting the sword at her side and the healthy condition of her mount.
"No pass?" he asked, voice courteous but firm. "Miss, first time in Suzhou? We'll need your name and place of origin recorded before you enter. There's a small fee—twenty coins—and then you'll receive an identity token. With that, you can come and go freely."
