At six o'clock, we mounted our horses and exited through the south gate of Hunyuan. The county town of Hunyuan sits at the foot of the western slope of Hengshan Mountain. From the west side of the mountain, there’s a path that leads upward—relatively close. However, if you wish to admire the beauty of Jinlongkou and the Hanging Monastery, you’ll have to head southeast. After leaving the city and traveling about twelve li, the road became extremely rough, consisting entirely of rocky beaches. The larger stones were fist-sized, while the smaller ones resembled peaches, making it very difficult for the horses to proceed. I asked our guide about the condition of the road ahead, and he said it was always like this. So I dismounted my horse and instructed the gendarme to lead it back into the city for lodging. Then, armed with my walking stick, I continued on foot for five li until I reached Tangjiazhuang. (Tangjiazhuang, a pun) The two mountains, Zhuang and Nan, stand side by side, their slopes remarkably steep and majestic. On the cliff of Nan Mountain there is a cave housing a small pavilion, said to be the Temple of the Three Pure Ones. As you enter the valley, towering cliffs rise on either side, with a stream flowing through the middle. The path you’re taking is the main route connecting Hunyuan with Tongling and other counties—indeed, you walk right along the stream itself. Whenever the water becomes an obstacle, you simply leap across it. After walking several hundred paces, you’ll notice something on the left-hand cliff... Cui Ping Two-character inscriptions carved into the cliff face, written in the "Bafen" style. As we proceed another three or four turns, the stream becomes narrower and the cliffs loom ever higher. Seen from the side, they resemble peaks; viewed head-on, they appear as sheer walls—there’s simply too much to take in at once. After walking about a li, the cliff suddenly opens up, revealing five or six stories of pavilions perched atop it—the famous Hanging Temple. Climbing the steps to the temple, we find that it was extensively renovated during the Tongzhi era. According to the inscription on its stele, the exact origins of the Hanging Temple remain unknown, though remnants of an ancient stele still bear the reign title of the Jin Dynasty’s Dading period, suggesting that its history stretches back a long way indeed. The temple is built by chiseling pillars directly into the cliff face and using wooden beams inserted into these pillars. The central two-story building houses five main halls; the upper eastern section rises to three stories, with three divine statues enshrined there, and to the left lies the Pure Yang Palace. The western upper section consists of two more stories. Beyond this, passing through a cave and then rounding a bend, a flying bridge spans thirty feet above empty space below. Crossing the bridge leads to a five-story pavilion known as the Sun Palace. Leaning on the railing and looking down, one sees the rushing stream below, while across the gorge, the terraced cliffs of Dan Cliff rise in tiers—just as Xu Xiake described them. "Wuyi and Jiugu are not worthy of being compared to it." All inscriptions must be left on the temple walls:

On the way to Xiashi Temple, I saw numerous large square holes chiseled into the walls on both sides. On the right wall was a large inscription carved into the cliff face, which read: Cloud Pavilion and Rainbow Bridge Superintendent Aigang Shu once carved holes and built bridges to help people cross the stream; now, he simply follows the stream’s course. It is said that every year during heavy floods, thousands of ravines and valleys suddenly surge forth, often submerging carriages and horses. By the stream’s bank, there is also a large... “Clear” The characters are carved into the cliff face; beneath the character “Qing” there remain additional characters. Indeed, back then, the high cliffs where these inscriptions were made once formed valleys, and deep valleys later became hills—mountains and rivers inevitably undergo such changes over time. As we continue further into the mountains, the terrain suddenly opens up. About two li ahead, we come across a cliff on the left bank of the stream, bearing an inscription that reads: Wang Zong , signature below Hong Yi Ji , and Cui Ping The same handwriting. Also, from Li Xu to Xia Ban Fort. (Anagram of "xia pan pu zhi") , turn west and head north, passing through Divine Skill, Next Generation The pavilion has 79 steps; another pavilion is called... "Defend Yan and Jin" All were recently repaired in the vicinity. In front of the archway sit two stone lions and two iron lions. To the left and right of the archway stand the newly restored steles of the Northern Yue Temple; there is also another stele titled— “The No. 1 Mountain in Northern China” Further ahead is the Red Gate, with an inlay above it. "Hengshan Mountain" This inscription was written during the Hongzhi period of the Ming Dynasty. From here, the path winds its way uphill for about five li, until you come upon three majestic pines standing on the left side of the trail. About another li further along, you pass through Tingzhi Ridge Village, where ancient pines on the eastern peak of the village remain lush and verdant. A little farther on, cliffs and rocks rise abruptly, bearing an inscribed stone carving. Hengzong Two characters, each about two zhang in size. Further inside, there’s a pavilion called... Tiger’s Mouth A stone inscription within the courtyard reads: Jie Shi , said Golden Dragon Mouth Is Jinlongkou located halfway up the mountain, rather than on the mountaintop?
 

Beneath the ancient pine tree behind the pavilion, the stone surface is remarkably flat and spacious. I sat down on the stone for a brief rest; the sound of the waves rustled softly, and a gentle breeze carried a fragrant aroma that almost lulled me to sleep. About another li further along, our guide pointed out that ahead, to the east, lay a cave. So we began to climb over thorny bushes to reach it. Less than half a li later, we came upon a cave—about twenty feet high but only a few feet deep, hardly worthy of being called a cave at all. Continuing along the cliff, we turned northeast for more than a hundred paces, then found a flight of stone steps leading upward. There, carved into the rock face, was an inscription that read: “Connecting to the Heavenly Avenue” , said “Thousands of rocks vie in beauty, and ten thousand valleys compete in charm.” The pavilion stands at the northern end, directly facing the Southern Gate of the Heng Temple. Behind the pavilion, there are numerous cliff inscriptions, some of which are legible. “Yide Peak” Three major characters and A Scenic Spot in the Clouds Four large characters are inscribed here. To the east of the pavilion, a rocky cliff curves around like a crescent moon, standing some forty zhang high, with its base arching inward to form a cave. On the left side of the cliff, beneath the overhanging rock face, lies a cave no more than four or five feet high—a cavern that plunges deeply into the earth, utterly dark and devoid of any visible light. It is called the “Huan Yuan Cave,” and was inscribed by Lou Yingkun, a scholar of the Ming dynasty. Huan Yuan Tian Qiao Cave The inscription roughly states that, according to a mountain hermit, the stone cave was once accessible to humans. It is said that in ancient times, those fleeing from the barbarian invaders hid here, only to be attacked by them; thus, the cave was sealed shut with stones. In front of the cave stands the main hall. To the right of the hall, a small platform has been constructed, upon which the “Record of the Ancient Beiyue Flying Stone Caves of Hunyuan,” composed by Lu Zhen, the prefect of Datong during the Ming dynasty, is erected. The following is an excerpt from the inscription:

Yu's comment: Before the Ming dynasty, the location of the Northern Yue was universally believed to be Quyang. However, Quyang is situated in a plain—without any mountain to speak of, how could it possibly be called a "Yue"? Now, according to Lu's account, Quyang's designation as the Northern Yue is nothing less than a disgrace to China's territorial integrity. Although the record does not explicitly mention the imperial court sending officials to perform rituals at Hengshan Mountain, the fact that Hengshan Mountain was again honored with rituals during the Hongzhi era was indeed due to Lu's efforts.
 

Traveling northward from Feishikou, you’ll find Baiyun Cave above, with walls adorned with... “White Cloud Spirit Cave” A four-character inscription carved into the cliff face—after turning south for fewer than a hundred paces, you’ll enter the Heng Temple through the Chongling Gate. Inside the gate, to the left is the Qinglong Hall, and to the right is the Baihu Hall. The stone steps are over a zhang wide and consist of 104 steps in total; at the top of the steps, you’ll reach the main hall of the Heng Temple. The plaque above reads: The Hall of Zhenyuan The hall has four bays, and its architectural style is vastly different from that of the majestic Mount Song and Mount Tai. From the west side of the hall, it’s less than a hundred paces to the Hall of Immortal Assemblies. Built against the rock face, this hall houses numerous Buddhist statues. In front of the cliff stand four maple trees, each towering thirty feet high and extraordinarily lush and verdant. To the right of the temple is the Jade Emperor Pavilion, and further to the right still stands the Imperial Stele Pavilion. The two cliffs feature inscriptions carved into the rock face: “Famous Mountains Under Heaven” , said "Reaching Heaven from the Edge of the World" , said Grand View of Heaven and Earth , said Standing tall and steep as ten thousand fathoms. All of these are factual accounts. Continuing westward for several dozen steps, one climbs upward through a narrow crevice in the cliff face, ascending along the rocky slope. After about thirty zhang, one reaches a slightly flatter rock—known as... "Qin Qi Platform" Below is a cliff inscription named: Traces of Enlightenment 。

We rested at Heng Temple, cooked millet soup, and enjoyed it together with the pancakes we’d brought along. From the east side of the temple, we headed northward, ascending through the valley gorge for a little over two li until we reached the summit of Heng Mountain. Below our feet lay Hunyuan County’s octagonal-shaped town—much like the view from Songshan’s peak overlooking Dengfeng City. In the distance, the mist was exceptionally thick; our guide told us that on a clear day during Qingming Festival, one could even see Yingxian County’s town. On the west side of Heng Mountain’s summit, sheer cliffs and precipitous slopes loomed steeply, utterly unlike the gentler terrain to the southeast. A fierce gust of wind buffeted us, making it impossible to linger long. We turned back, passed by Heng Temple once more, and descended to Li Quan Pavilion. The pavilion covers a well whose water is remarkably clear. As we drew some water to drink, the coldness sent shivers down our spines, even causing our teeth to chatter. From here, we set out again. Forever establish in Ji Province The path leads past Chunyang Palace, Lingyun Pavilion, and Yuhuang Pavilion, then continues westward to Kui Xing Pavilion. From the pavilion, the trail descends into the steep, rocky ravine below—so steep that it’s impossible to place one’s feet securely. The slope is utterly precipitous; a single slip could send you hurtling down into the valley floor. For this reason, very few travelers ever make it this far. After about four li, we came upon a thick layer of ice at the bottom of the ravine. We scooped up some of it to drink, then paused briefly on a large rock for a rest. From there, the trail veers northward, eventually leading to the Temple of the White Dragon King. Just then, a woodcutter poked his head out from among the thorny bushes, asking us where we’d come from and how far the Heng Temple was from here. It was clear that few people ever made their way this far. Continuing downward for another four li or so, we reached a dirt slope and emerged into Tangjia Village. (Tangjiazhuang, a pun) Two li north—just about two li from the southern gate of Hunyuan. Returning to Liangdian, it was already nearing five o’clock.

I got up at four in the morning and asked the shop assistant to prepare a meal for me. The total cost—including room rent, horse feed, and food and drink—came to five hundred and twenty cash coins, plus an additional over sixteen hundred cash coins in actual money, which amounted to just over one dollar in silver, with some change left over. Although the food wasn't particularly delicious, the price was remarkably low.

At five forty, I mounted my horse and headed westward. At twelve o’clock, I reached the entrance to the Wengcheng Gate and made camp there. Once we crossed the Sanggan River, the road gradually became smoother, and I urged my horse into a swift gallop. By six o’clock, I arrived in Datong and again stayed at the residence of Mr. Liang Shulun①. The return journey was an absolute delight in its speed and vigor; even the gendarmes remarked on how skillfully I rode—certainly unlike most southerners. Right there, atop my horse, I spontaneously composed a short quatrain:

After finishing dinner, Shu Lun took me to the theater to watch a performance, giving me a glimpse of Datong’s local customs and charm. We returned to our lodging at midnight. On the 23rd, we caught a train back to Beijing.
 

Proofreading: Xue Fang

Editor: Xue Lin