Jing Wang Mansion is a town with an extremely rich literary atmosphere.
Newsstands and teahouses selling calligraphy and books can be found everywhere on the street.
Here, you can see a butcher shouting "The golden knife troubled with lethargy, the sound of the Qiang flute frightens the drunken visage," as he wields a knife to chop meat.
And ladies with bright smiles and charm approach you, pulling your hand to tap her jade-like leg and say "Drink this, my dear, and enjoy yourself for three thousand bucks."
Even the street-side breakfast vendor, one moment he's hawking "South Mountain fresh soy milk, three hundred eighty a cup," the next he's asking you "Now that it's ominously overcast, how much sugar does your milk tea need?"
Looking around, there seems to be a grandeur of dining, refined and vulgar pleasures equally appreciated, phoenix-like grandchildren and dragon kids, babbling as they learn to speak.
