Food on Victor42

A Relaxing 6 Day 5 Night Early Summer Trip to Xi an

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Thu, 28 May 2026 20:39:00 +0000

Bordering the Hexi Corridor to the west and China’s vast eastern plains, the Guanzhong Plain has witnessed the rise and fall of countless brilliant civilizations. Visiting this ancient land in early summer, you can truly feel the weight of history beneath your feet.

Day 1: Bell and Drum Towers & Muslim Quarter

Xi’an Bell and Drum Towers

The Bell Tower sits at the absolute center of modern Xi’an, connecting directly to the city wall’s four main gates.

The gate names hold deep meaning: Changle (Everlasting Joy) to the east, Yongning (Everlasting Peace) to the south, Anding (Stability) to the west, and Anyuan (Pacifying the Distant) to the north. Together, their first characters form a wish for eternal peace in Chang’an.

Though the original Tang structures are gone, the current towers date back to the Ming Dynasty. A perfectly preserved Tang Dynasty bell is now displayed in the northwest corner.

Historically, these towers weren’t just for keeping time; they enforced the law. Tang Chang’an ran on a strict curfew, and anyone caught roaming the streets between the evening drum and morning bell risked execution. The romanticized “morning bell and evening drum” was actually a highly stressful daily reality for ancient citizens.

The view from the Bell Tower reveals a central axis stretching straight to the horizon. Such an immaculate layout, conceived over 1,400 years ago, required a massive population, strict royal etiquette, and elite urban planning—earning its World Heritage status today. Local drivers joke that navigating this grid is entirely stress-free; if you miss a turn, you just take the next one.

A short walk away is the Drum Tower, equipped with 24 smaller drums marking traditional solar terms and a main drum for timekeeping.

Inside, you’ll find exquisite Ming Dynasty furniture and artifacts.

In May, swifts fill the sky, darting close to visitors’ ears. The complex wooden brackets of the ancient architecture make perfect nesting spots. Cities change, but these ancient ruins remain a sanctuary for the birds year after year.

Muslim Quarter

The Muslim Quarter is massive. “Muslim Street” is just its most commercialized tourist hub.

I actually prefer the deeper alleys around Huajue Lane. We explored them on Day 6. They’re bustling with e-bikes and locals buying groceries, offering a much more authentic vibe.

Walking back to our hotel, the illuminated Drum Tower and circling swifts pushed Xi’an’s ancient ambiance to its absolute peak.

Day 2: Terracotta Army

In Xi’an, you can justify skipping any attraction—except the Terracotta Army. Since the palaces of the Qin and Han dynasties were mostly destroyed or abandoned, the Tang Dynasty dominates the city’s visible history. The Terracotta Army is the ultimate window into China 2,000 years ago.

Pit 1

The guide mentioned that before the discovery, this was just a farming village. When locals unearthed pottery while digging a foundation, it changed their lives—and history—forever.

The panoramic view of Pit 1. The guide joked that out of the 120 RMB ticket, this view alone is worth 100.

Pit 1 contains mostly infantry and features the largest number of restored figures.

The sea of fragments in the back reveals the reality of the excavation; nearly every standing figure was painstakingly pieced together from thousands of shards.

These weren’t simple toys; Emperor Qin intended to bring a true-to-life army into the afterlife. The figures’ outfits strictly dictate military rank. While the bodies were mass-produced, the varied facial features reflect the diverse ethnic makeup of both the artisans and the Qin military.

Pit 3

Pit 3 is smaller but acts as the command center, featuring higher-ranking officers and cavalry.

Many figures here are headless. Archaeologists suspect it wasn’t looted, but simply abandoned midway due to the peasant uprisings that toppled the dynasty.

Notice how all the warriors are empty-handed? Their wooden weapons rotted away, leaving only bronze triggers and arrowheads. Rumors credit advanced anti-rust technology for preserving the bronze, but it was actually the dense, alkaline loess soil that sealed out the oxygen.

We also walked past Pit 4—completely empty. The dynasty collapsed before it could be filled.

Pit 2

Pit 2 houses the iconic Kneeling Archer. Because of its lower profile, it survived roof collapses beautifully and has become a symbol of Xi’an.

The most chilling detail is the hyper-realistic tread on the archer’s shoe. It’s a testament to the Qin state’s terrifying standardization.

Every weapon and tile had its maker’s name carved into it. If a part failed, the artisan was executed. This unparalleled craftsmanship wasn’t born from artistic passion, but from a desperate need to stay alive.

What drove the Emperor to build this? After conquering the known world, his only undefeated enemy was time. He poured his empire’s resources into defeating death, treating the afterlife as more vital than the living world. It’s no wonder his dynasty barely outlived him.

Large sections remain unexcavated, clearly showing the collapsed wooden roof beams that originally sheltered the army.

Another highlight is the imposing General figure.

His square-toed shoes mark his elite rank.

Museum

The museum details the Qin’s brutal but effective military meritocracy, which fueled the state’s unstoppable expansion.

A broken figure perfectly illustrates the hollow torso construction.

A color restoration of the General. The vivid “Chinese Purple” oxidized and vanished within days of excavation, leaving only the terracotta color we see today.

Lishan Garden

A quick taxi ride took us to Lishan Garden, the actual burial mound of Emperor Qin.

The Terracotta Army is merely the eastern garrison for this massive necropolis.

The absolute masterpieces here are the half-scale Bronze Chariots.

These aren’t static models. The doors open, the joints move—if the Emperor were shrunk by half, he could drive them away.

Nearby is a pit of civil officials, complete with tools for scraping bamboo slips, proving he intended to take his entire bureaucracy to the grave.

He even sacrificed real, highly prized horses. Emperor Qin tried to replicate his entire empire underground, complete with rivers of flowing mercury, all in a futile war against time.

Day 3: Tang Paradise

Today was dedicated to a Tang-style photoshoot for my wife and daughter.

Tang makeup evolved drastically over time. Early Tang aesthetics leaned toward slim elegance.

It wasn’t until the High Tang era that the bold, vibrant makeup we stereotypically associate with the dynasty became popular. Tang Paradise itself is a purely modern theme park built on the historical site of the royal gardens.

The park is anchored by the grand Ziyun Tower. Historically, Emperor Xuanzong diverted water from the Qinling Mountains to build this garden, causing a severe drinking water shortage for his citizens.

To visit without mingling with the public, Xuanzong built an elevated, fully enclosed private road called “Jiacheng.” This physical separation mirrored his growing detachment from the common people, signaling the slow decline of the empire.

We rented a boat for a leisurely cruise before returning our costumes early.

Day 4: Pagodas & Everbright City

Xi’an Museum

The floor map explains a lot: the Han Dynasty capital isn’t fully layered under the Tang capital. The Sui and Tang dynasties essentially abandoned the old, cramped ruins and built an immaculate grid city from scratch.

Han inherited Qin’s traditions, producing their own, albeit smaller, terracotta warriors.

The museum heavily features the Silk Road, which the Han initiated and the Tang perfected.

Downstairs, we explored Tang Chang’an’s layout. Its 150-meter-wide main avenue was designed to psychologically overwhelm commoners. Later, emperors retreated to the elevated Daming Palace. This physical isolation bred political instability, eventually allowing eunuchs to seize military power and orchestrate the dynasty’s collapse.

This grand grid layout deeply influenced Japanese capitals like Nara and Kyoto.

Outside stands the Little Wild Goose Pagoda, which miraculously survived a devastating Ming-era earthquake.

Big Wild Goose Pagoda

Next was the Big Wild Goose Pagoda inside the active Da Ci’en Temple.

It leans slightly northwest due to historic groundwater extraction, though the tilt is stabilizing.

Built for the famous monk Xuanzang, it safely stored the precious Buddhist texts he hauled back from India.

Xuanzang took a grueling northern route to India primarily because it offered the diplomatic protection of established Buddhist kingdoms.

Grand Tang Everbright City

We spent the evening strolling through this massive, bustling Tang-themed pedestrian district.

Day 5: City Wall & Guangren Temple

Xi’an City Wall

We ascended via the South Gate (Yongning Gate). It boasts a formidable three-tier defense: gate tower, archery tower, and sluice tower, with a trapping “barbican” courtyard in between.

The wall features protruding bastions (“horse faces”) to eliminate defensive blind spots.

I noticed sloped edges and found ancient Ming drainage systems hidden beneath modern grates—crucial for protecting the rammed earth core from water damage. The wall’s low, thick design marks the military shift from repelling ladders to absorbing cannon fire.

Guangren Temple

Located in the northwest corner, this rare Tibetan Buddhist temple features Ming architecture.

The Qing Dynasty smartly patronized Tibetan Buddhism to cement alliances with Mongolian and Tibetan factions, ensuring border stability.

My daughter was thrilled to spin the prayer wheels, which I explained was a traditional way to make wishes.

Dream of Chang’an

We returned to the South Gate for this immersive evening show. The audience plays the role of foreign envoys arriving in the Tang capital.

After an outdoor welcome, we moved into the barbican for an elegant performance celebrating Tang poetry, martial arts, and cultural fusion.

Day 6: Great Mosque

Deep in the Muslim Quarter lies a mosque dating back to the Tang Dynasty, though its current look is distinctively Ming.

Due to aggressive Ming assimilation policies, the mosque was built disguised as a classic Confucian temple, complete with flying eaves. The only giveaway is its east-facing entrance, directing worshippers west toward Mecca.

The Chinese wooden brackets act identically to Islamic pendentives, shifting weight to open up the prayer hall.

In the innermost courtyard, you finally see Arabic script ingeniously stylized to mimic square Chinese characters. It’s a remarkable, living testament to cultural survival and fusion.

Geographic Background

Enclosed by the Loess Plateau, Qinling Mountains, and the Yellow River, the Guanzhong Plain is a natural fortress. The loess soil, blown in over millennia, was easy to farm and nurtured early civilization.

Guarded by four tight mountain passes (Hangu, Wu, Dasan, and Xiao), it was the ultimate strategic stronghold for early empires.

However, nature pushed back. Centuries of over-farming and deforestation caused massive soil erosion, severely muddying the local rivers and ruining the ecosystem. This environmental collapse played a major role in later dynasties abandoning the area.

Local Life

Weather, Transit, and Food

May is highly comfortable here (25-30°C). We stayed near the Wulukou metro, providing excellent access to both historic and modern districts.

Xi’an is undeniably the carb capital of China.

We dove into Pita Bread in Mutton Soup, Zenggao (date and sticky rice cake), and various noodles. While I struggled slightly with the intensely sour local flavor profile, the Muslim-style stir-fries were fantastic.

Observations

Xi’an exists as two parallel worlds: the deeply historical and the effortlessly modern.

You don’t have to exhaust yourself climbing ancient towers; you can simply sip coffee on the rooftop of the Kaiyuan Mall for a flawless, vibe-heavy view of the Bell Tower.

The city brilliantly blends ruins into daily life. Inspired by the rammed-earth history, even modern buildings adopt a warm, earthy palette, creating a seamless visual transition across millennia.

It’s also the city that best fulfills Western stereotypes of China, drawing immense crowds of international tourists seeking the “Qin and Tang” experience.

Travel Expenses

Our total for the trip came to just over 11,000 RMB:

Here’s the planning document I used (feel free to copy and adjust): https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/EAKawEhfuiOa2QknREFcTrhvnQd?from=from_copylink

Trip planning follows a specific logic. If you’re curious about my process, check out this guide: How to make a travel itinerary step by step.

How to Eat Crucian Carp Like a Pro

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 12 Aug 2022 17:14:00 +0000

This is a guide on eating skills, filed under Food for now.

My daughter’s not even teething, but I’m already planning to teach her expert crucian carp eating. It’s a family tradition. So, I’ve detailed how to eat crucian carp bonelessly, step-by-step.

People bad at eating freshwater fish often think the tiny bones in crucian carp are random. They’re not! These are intermuscular bones, providing extra swimming power. They’re neatly arranged. The solid black lines in the image show this. The skeleton isn’t a crucian carp’s, but it’s close.

The spine is the core. The curved, long belly bones are like ribs, protecting organs. They’re easily removed. The shorter, straighter spine bones are hard to break, staying out of your mouth. All vertebrates share this: spine for support, ribs for protection. A snake skeleton shows this clearly.

The troublesome bones are the intermuscular ones attached to the flesh. They’re forked, but usually have a main stem. The stem is thicker; the forks are thinner. You won’t find snowflake-shaped bones. Because of the main stem, there’s a universal method to separate them, applicable to many fish.

Here’s the technique: Take a bite containing bones. Don’t chomp down. Use your tongue and palate to flatten the fish, like a thin pancake. Don’t over-flatten it, as shown. The bone tips will slightly protrude, easily located by your tongue.

Roll the flattened fish with your tongue, like a Swiss roll, maintaining thickness. Bones not pointing directly at your tongue won’t prick. The main stem ensures even perpendicular bones align during rolling. You now have a fish roll with bones pointing uniformly.

Push the roll forward with your tongue, aligning your front teeth with the roll’s center. Bite. Your gums are safe, and your teeth hold the bones. Like eating a skewer, scrape the flesh with your tongue. Scrape one side, flip, and repeat.

Success! Flesh and bones are separated. Spit out the bones.

This works mathematically: 3D line segments become 2D, then 1D. Complexity simplifies; chaos orders; it’s manageable.

That’s my plan for teaching my daughter. Detailed, right? It might not work perfectly. “Dad, can we switch to flounder?” is a possibility.

Side note: Why are sea fish boneless? It’s about fish evolution. Fish began in the sea, lacking intermuscular bones. Later, some evolved these for power, gaining an edge. They became standard. Some entered freshwater, evolving further. Some developed elastic proteins instead of bones, becoming faster. In the ocean’s predator-prey race, these fast fish shed intermuscular bones, maximizing protein use. Thus, most sea fish are firmer. Freshwater fish, in smaller waters, evolved differently, keeping many intermuscular bones.

Chinese scientists found the gene controlling intermuscular bone growth in crucian carp. Mutating it creates boneless fish. It’s not commercial yet, so hopefully, this guide remains useful.

Two Packs of Aojiru

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Mon, 17 Oct 2016 00:43:28 +0000

I have a bunch of instant drinks at home – red dates, goji berries, milk, chrysanthemum, sanqi flowers, honey, you name it. This year, I discovered aojiru, a powdered barley leaf drink. I’m not in it for the health benefits; it just tastes good, kind of like matcha. It’s great with milk and oatmeal for breakfast. I had two brands: one was pure barley leaf powder, the other had matcha, sugar, and other additives. It tasted bland, and I wasn’t a fan.

The other day, I finished the bland one. I was secretly relieved, thinking, “I won’t buy that again.” But then it hit me – why did I power through the bad one first?

It’s a bit complicated. I first noticed this habit in elementary school. My mom sometimes picked me up for lunch since my school was nearby. We’d grab a quick lunchbox. I loved meat; a chicken drumstick made my day. My mom’s coworker noticed I always ate the other food first, saving the drumstick for last. She said, “Your son is a pessimist. He saves the best for last.” That was the first time I realized not everyone thinks like me.

In school, this was a good thing. My parents and teachers saw me as disciplined, finishing homework before playing. I’d sneak out of bed to play games, but never before homework was done. I’m not sure I loved studying, but it worked.

But this approach isn’t always a hit. Take my grandparents. They have a storage room full of things their kids gave them – clothes, kitchenware, you name it. They won’t use anything new until the old stuff breaks, which drives everyone nuts. Thankfully, they’ve loosened up, taking more time to enjoy life.

That lady’s “pessimist” comment wasn’t quite right. You could call it optimism, depending on your focus. So, what’s the real difference between sooner or later? It’s about worldview, two ways of seeing the world, leading to two strategies: gathering and sowing. Gatherers are past-oriented. They see a static world where every bit used is a loss, so they hoard to reach goals. Sowers are present-oriented. They see a dynamic world where consumption fuels gain.

Sounds cliché, right? Like “carpe diem”? But it’s easy to misjudge yourself. I thought I was a sower because I’m easygoing. But the aojiru made me rethink. I have this habit of keeping things just so. If I move something, I put it back immediately. When cooking, I’ll grab the salt, use it, and put it back – repeatedly. I even did something ridiculous: I started washing the egg-beating bowl while the egg was cooking. The heat was too high, and the egg burned. This weird quirk shows I instinctively prefer the existing order, a static worldview.

Even with cooking, if I keep reaching for salt, the spice rack needs rearranging. Changing the environment takes effort, disrupting the familiar. That’s sowing – using energy and prior effort to create efficiency. Sowers use existing resources to make today the best, rather than hoarding the best.

Back to the aojiru. It’s a small thing. I could’ve saved or tossed the bad one. What’s the upside of the good aojiru? One thing: after tasting something good, your sense of “good” sharpens. That improved perception is a gain.