In Chengjiachuan, the old bricks speak volumes.
Chengjiachuan: A Hidden Gem in Xianyang – Free Ancient Courtyards, 210 Old Houses Showcasing the Brickwork Art of Ancient Bin
Driving northwest from Binzhou city, the loess plateau outside the car window gradually turns green. Rounding a mountain ridge, a cluster of gray-tiled roofs and walls suddenly appears – not ordinary farmhouses, but 19 courtyard houses in Chengjiachuan, neatly arranged in the valley like an open old book. Grandpa Liu, guarding the entrance, saw us peeking in and waved with a smile: "Come in, it's free! These houses are meticulously built; the brickwork is even more precise than a ruler."
Sure enough, walking on the newly paved bluestone slabs, each courtyard house exudes the stubborn spirit of ancient Bin architecture. On the roof ridge of the main house, several gray pottery mythical beasts perch, their tails raised higher than elsewhere; the window frames of the side rooms are carved with "swastika" patterns, the lines sharp and brittle, as if carved directly into the wood with a chisel. "This was built in 2008," Grandpa Liu pointed to the bricks in the corner. "When the old bricks ran out, they fired new ones according to the original dimensions. Look at the color, it's almost indistinguishable." An aunt in a blue cotton shirt was wiping the doorsteps with a rag; the reliefs on the stone doorsteps gleamed. "These are the 'Three Star Gods of Fortune, Prosperity, and Longevity'," she pointed to the pattern. "In the past, if a family had these doorsteps, it meant they were wealthy."
🏠 The backbone of the courtyard house: a meticulous contest between brick and wood
The "property" of the main house. Among the 19 courtyards, the largest main house has five rooms. The wooden carved plaque above the door reads "Passing down the family tradition of farming and reading," each character perfectly square. "This is called 'three visible rooms and five hidden rooms,'" said Old Wang, the caretaker, as he pushed open the wooden door, the hinges creaking. "From the outside, it looks like three rooms, but inside there are two hidden rooms, used to store valuables." The pillars of the main building are made of whole pine logs, "transported from the Qinling Mountains," Old Wang said, patting the pillar. "During the repairs, we deliberately preserved the original patina; you can feel the warmth of the old wood." The brackets on the roof beams were made without a single nail, relying entirely on mortise and tenon joints. "They won't loosen for hundreds of years," Old Wang pointed to the joints. "This craftsmanship, very few people know how to do it now."
The "ingenuity" of the side rooms. The windows of the east and west side rooms are the most interesting. The east one is carved with peonies, their petals round and plump; the west one is carved with chrysanthemums, their petals pointed. "East faces the sun, peonies love warmth; west faces the shade, chrysanthemums tolerate the cool," Grandpa Liu explained. "The older generation had specific rules for choosing patterns." The steps in the side room are three steps lower than those in the main room. "This is for 'respect for hierarchy,'" Old Wang said with a smile. "In the past, younger generations living in the side room had to walk with their heads down." In the corner of the side room, there's an inconspicuous stone trough. "This is a 'seepage well,'" Old Wang pointed to the bottom of the trough. "Rainwater flows down the wall to here and seeps into the soil, so the house won't get damp."
🧱 A New Life After Renovation: The Reconciliation of Old Bricks and New Mud
The "Stubbornness" of Old Bricks. There's a "Brick Catalogue Wall" in the scenic area, displaying old bricks collected during the renovation. Some bear the black marks of fire, others are imprinted with the handprints of the craftsmen of yesteryear. "These are bricks from the Qing Dynasty," Old Wang said, picking up a piece. "They're about two fingers smaller than modern bricks, but much harder; you can't even break them with a hammer." During the renovation, the craftsmen numbered the old bricks, and those that could be reused were rebuilt in their original positions. "Look at this wall," Old Wang pointed to the wall, "the darker colors are the old bricks, and the lighter colors are the new ones. It's like leaving a diary for the house." Several of the foundation stones at the base of the wall are engraved with patterns. "These were dug out from the collapsed old house," Old Wang said. "It took us ages to piece together a lotus flower, so we've embedded it here as a memento."
The courtyard's "life." Each courtyard's patio is paved with bluestone slabs, with a square pit in the center. "This is 'four waters returning to the hall,'" Grandpa Liu explains, "when it rains, rainwater flows from the eaves into the patio and then into the pit, symbolizing the accumulation of wealth." He adds with a smile, "Now pomegranate trees grow in the pit; their red blossoms in spring are much prettier than the plain stone slabs." In a corner of the patio sits an old stone mortar. "It used to be used for pounding rice," Old Wang says, tossing a handful of corn kernels into the mortar. "Now it's a children's toy; people jump around it every day."
🍜 The Flavors Outside the Courtyard Walls: The Aroma of Firewood and Home Cooking
The Smoothness of Stirred Rice Dumplings At the entrance of the scenic area, a farmhouse restaurant owner was stirring yellow noodles in a large iron pot. "This is Binzhou jiaotuan (8 yuan a bowl)," she said, her wooden ladle spinning rapidly. "It needs to be stirred hundreds of times to make it chewy." The jiaotuan was served in a rough porcelain bowl, topped with vinegar and chili oil, and slipped smoothly down the throat. "Eat it with pickled chives," the owner said, handing over a small dish. "These chives are from our own garden, freshly cut this morning, still fragrant with dew." The firewood beside the stove was neatly piled. "We burn corn stalks," the owner said, "the fire is gentle, so the jiaotuan won't become mushy."
The "fineness" of the noodles. At a village food stall, an old man was grating dough with a tin grater, creating noodles as thin as vermicelli. "This is 'Binzhou Imperial Noodles' (10 yuan a bowl)," the old man said while wiping the noodles. "Legend has it that it was a tribute to the emperor, and it has to be made with buckwheat flour to be smooth and tender." The noodles are blanched in boiling water, then tossed with minced garlic and mustard. "It's pungent, but the more you eat, the more you want," a bespectacled student slurped, "chewier than the cold noodles in the city." In a bamboo basket beside the stall were freshly ground buckwheat flours. "Grinded using our own millstone," the old man said, "The coarse flour is used for jiaotuan (a type of porridge), and the fine flour for the imperial noodles—nothing is wasted."
📍 Park Guide: Bring a pair of comfortable walking shoes
· Transportation: By car, navigate to "Binzhou Chengjiachuan Natural Scenic Area," about 2 hours from Xianyang city. There is free parking at the entrance. Alternatively, take a bus from Binzhou Bus Station to "Xiangmiao Town" (5 yuan), then walk 15 minutes to the scenic area.
· Admission: Free! All 19 courtyard houses can be visited. At the farmhouses near the entrance, a bowl of jiaotuan (a type of porridge) costs 8 yuan, and a bowl of yumian (another type of noodle) costs 10 yuan – very affordable.
· Best time: Visit on a sunny morning. Sunlight streams through the windows, casting shadows of the wood carvings on the ground like a moving painting. For photos of the detailed restoration, ask Old Wang; he can show you the brickwork and brackets that others miss.
· Note: Most courtyard doors are wooden; handle them gently to avoid breaking them. The stone slabs in the courtyards are slippery on rainy days; wear non-slip shoes. The scenic area closes at 6:00 PM; don't stay too late, as it gets dark quickly in the mountains.
As I left, Grandpa Liu slipped a fragment of an old brick into my hand: "Take it with you. This stone holds the spirit of the old houses." Driving out of the mountains, I looked in the rearview mirror; the blue tiles of Chengjiachuan gleamed in the setting sun, like pieces of old jade polished by time. Suddenly I understood the beauty of this scenic area—it didn't turn the old houses into cold, lifeless specimens, but rather allowed them to continue to "live." Old bricks and new mud intertwine, wood carvings and stone sculptures bask in the sun, just as Old Wang, the caretaker of the courtyard, said: "A good house, like a good person, needs some traces of time to truly stand the test of time."
Bonus: Every month on the 15th of the lunar calendar, the scenic area invites veteran craftsmen to provide a "mortise and tenon experience." Visitors can assemble a small bracket set by hand to take home. Watching the wooden parts fit together perfectly, one truly understands what "a thousand-year-old fortress" means.