The last two chapters of this volume, appropriately, deal with endpoints in the form of tombs in ancient China and ancient Rome. Both chapters, however, make it abundantly clear that tombs should also be studied as points of beginning, namely, as sites where, through the performance of funerals and other rituals, the living renegotiated their own social relationships after a death in their community. Tian Tian’s contribution has a laser-sharp focus on burial money. Starting in Western Han, burial money featured prominently among other grave goods: huge quantities of money were hauled to the burial site – she speaks of two cartloads full in case of one elite tomb – to be subsequently, after a public reading of the funerary-objects lists, buried in the tomb. In Rome, burial coins spread together with the Roman empire, but never in quantities as large as in the case of Han tombs. Moreover, interpreting Roman burial coins remains difficult given that the explanation provided in literary sources (that the deceased needed one coin to successfully cross the River Styx to the underworld) is unsatisfactory to account for the richness of the archaeological record. (For Han China, the funerary-objects lists that were placed in the tomb really help when it comes to categorizing and interpreting the burial coins.) In the Roman case there is little evidence that money played a role in the way families sought to display their wealth and status as they publicly remembered their dead; in contrast, in Han China (and beyond) gifts of money by individuals or other families to the family of the deceased in order to defray funeral expenses were a prominent way to create and confirm communities; as Tian Tian reveals, local villagers even formed private associations (dan) especially for that purpose.

Jordan Christopher analyzes the freshwater provision systems of the imperial capitals of Rome and Chang’an from the perspective of political power, using as his adage that “water flows in the shape of power.” He describes how, during the Republican period, Roman aqueducts were constructed in an ad hoc manner, to please certain constituents rather than to meet the documented needs of the general public. Augustus, in contrast, had a new aqueduct (Aqua Alsietina) constructed to serve only his own Naumachia. Still, even under the Principate, Roman rulers understood that maintaining the earlier aqueducts was a political necessity, and they also invested in baths and fountains – public spaces where elite and commoners alike could meet – to promote solidarity among the citizenry. As recent archaeological work has documented, Western Han Chang’an too was equipped with impressive water control and supply systems. Water coming from the mountains south of Chang’an was pooled and channeled, and engineered so that it could both provide the city with freshwater and prevent flooding. Christopher’s point here is that, by and large, the water infrastructure served the palaces, especially the two major palaces in the southern part of Chang’an, providing a steady supply of water and beautifying the environment. In other words, instead of overcoming hierarchies, water infrastructure in Chang’an was used, just like its many walls, to reinforce and strengthen hierarchies. Chang’an also featured no fountains, and while its many (private) wells might have provided occasion for people to mingle, they were by no means designed to promote such encounters.