Dai County: Touching Time in the Folds of an Ancient Border Town

Standing beneath the mottled city walls of Bianjing Tower, I suddenly understood the weight of the words "Wei Zhen San Guan" (威镇三关). This military tower, built in the seventh year of the Hongwu period of the Ming Dynasty, stands proudly in the morning mist outside Yanmen Pass. The iron horses hanging from the eaves clink in the wind, reminiscent of the armor of the border guards six hundred years ago. Dai County, an ancient border town polished by history, tells the legend of war and peace, and the intertwining of poetry and music with its blue bricks and black tiles. The Lingxing Gate of the Dai County Confucian Temple leads me into another time and space. The five courtyards unfold one by one, and the nine-ridge Xieshan roof of the Dacheng Hall glows warmly in the autumn sun. Touching the mane of the Yuan Dynasty stone lion smoothed by time, I suddenly see a flock of startled pigeons flying over the stele corridor. The stone tablets engraved with the names of scholars from past dynasties are silent, but I can clearly hear the recitation of the Book of Songs penetrating five hundred years of time. The old pine tree in front of the main hall has gnarled branches, and the cracks in the branches hide the dawn and dusk of hard study. Following the legend of the Yang family generals, I enter the village of Lutuijian. In front of the brick-carved screen wall of the Yang Zhongwu Temple, the story of loyalty and bravery flows in the light and shadow. The portrait of Yang Ye enshrined deep in the temple has eyes like torches, and the incense ash left on the mottled offering table carries the scent of incense lit by overseas travelers returning home to worship their ancestors. The old man guarding the temple rubs the Song Dynasty stone lion with his calloused fingers, telling the legend of the Yang family women generals. Outside the wall, children are practicing formations with wooden swords, and history and reality overlap into vivid rings of time. The white jade figure of the Ayuwang Pagoda emerges in the morning bell of the Bailin Temple. This Yuan Dynasty stupa has thirteen layers of wheels piercing the blue sky, and a few sparrows perch on the lotus reliefs at the base of the pagoda. Climbing the stone steps of the Bairenyan Temple, the Buddha statues in the Northern Wei Dynasty caves still have the solemnity of the Pingcheng era, while the old monk brewing tea in the pavilion halfway up the mountain continues the Zen spirit with a purple clay teapot. The Tang Dynasty locust tree of Bailin Temple, the suspended buildings of Zhao Gao Temple, and the Eight Trigrams caisson of Phoenix Temple, each corner hides the amber of time. As dusk falls on the Drum Tower, I find half a piece of Song Dynasty porcelain on the ruins of the ancient city wall. Did the soldiers six hundred years ago also gaze at the cold moon over the mountains? Dai County, a living border museum, has turned war and peace, strength and elegance into aged wine. When the wind outside Yanmen Pass rings the bronze bell of the Confucian Temple, I hear history rustling in the cracks of the bricks - this is not a specimen-like ancient city, but a living epic with a cultural pulse.