Visiting the Night Market at Yandu Ancient City in Yi County

(Continued from previous) A burst of music that sounded like a minority ethnic style drifted over, interrupting me just as I was about to compose a poem by the Yishui River. I let go of my thoughts and listened carefully. It seemed to come from the direction of Babai Tower… the bonfire had begun!

I've stayed in various places for projects, so I feel this deeply. Bonfire parties are commonly called "bonfire dancing" in Yunnan, mostly associated with the Yi people, though many minority groups have similar customs. They're widespread across Yunnan, and their origins are untraceable. It's said they originally stemmed from fire worship, and the dance styles vary widely. In Luquan County, there's the "flute foot" dance, often danced by dozens or even hundreds of young men and women. It's quite wild — they don't fuss over the venue, just clear a space in the wilderness. While dancing, they stomp their feet hard, raising clouds of yellow dust. The footwork is fancy and powerful, and it feels incredibly refreshing afterward. In Mouding County, it's the "left foot" dance, for all ages, whether idle or at weddings. This one is more refined, with a sanxian player accompanying a small group — just a few people are enough, but they must wear ethnic costumes. The movements are simple and light. Among the Naxi and Mosuo people around Lijiang, it's called "guozhuang dancing" — yes, the same term as the Tibetans use. One session includes many movements; you can't keep up without long practice. It starts with a leader blowing a flute at the front, and then everyone lines up behind, hands on shoulders, dancing and circling around the fire as the music changes. Each tune has its own sequence of steps, and they dance to five to eight different melodies per session. At first it's light, then it gets fiery, basically running and jumping while holding hands. By the end, everyone is drenched in sweat. Then there's the Sani people's big sanxian in Shilin County… I can't list them all, you'll have to explore on your own. Anyway, come the 24th day of the sixth lunar month, Yunnan's Torch Festival, the whole province turns into a giant bonfire party (except for Kunming, Banna, and Zhaotong). As long as you're in any prefecture, you're swept along whether you like it or not — Chuxiong in particular sees the whole city erupt. Having been carried by the crowd, looking back, it wasn't bad at all.

Alright, let's shift our lens back to the ancient city. Right now, a roaring bonfire blazes in front of Babai Tower. Mostly women dance around it, a beautiful sight in itself. Men at these gatherings are usually bashful, standing or squatting on the sidelines, scanning the scene. They look like locals. The ancient city has done a brilliant thing — it creates unique character and a sense of activity, highly engaging while offering a sightseeing experience. It also provides a pleasant recreational and fitness venue for the neighborhood, without disturbing residents, clogging roads, or seizing public spaces from other age groups. Big thumbs up for that.

You're probably wondering why I didn't join in. Well, you just love stirring the pot without caring how messy it gets. If I joined the dance, the image — hmm, unimaginable.

After three songs, the crowd started drifting back toward the city center. Follow the crowd, as I always say. It's like choosing a restaurant: if it's crowded, it's bound to be good. When out exploring, go where the people gather — the core attractions are never far off.

I drifted with the tide through a snack street full of raucous calls, tiptoeing like on a field of plum-blossom stakes, afraid I'd knock over someone's seafood pot or beer bottles. Reaching the end of the street, I let out a long breath. For a small potato like me, there's natural joy in mingling with the marketplace. The clamor of everyday life — that's where the real flavor of living lies…

By now, the area around the stage was packed. No empty stone benches remained, and several rings of people stood under the big trees. Passersby stopped in their tracks amid the music. Kids laughed and dashed around wildly — a scene of bustling joy. I found a obscure corner that didn't block anyone's view, planted myself there, and looked up at the stage. The stage was built according to traditional Chinese opera stage style. On it, a few girls in classical costumes were dancing a soft, enchanting classical piece. Honestly, I've seen plenty of roving troupes, most just flaunting their youth, but this one looked impressive. Their graceful figures and exquisite movements proved they were performers with solid training. These days, many internet-famous classical beauties are just about looks, but they can't compare to tonight's show.

…I couldn't bear to see the girls on stage remain underappreciated, so I squeezed out of the crowd and headed along Yanshi Avenue toward the square. (Later, I overheard from passersby that a classical music ensemble would perform next. The ensemble had over a dozen members, all aged 60+, playing Yanzhi Ancient Music, said to date back to the Zhengde era — an intangible cultural heritage item.)

Stalls selling all kinds of trinkets lined both sides of the street, the crowded vendors' mats nearly blocking the way. The bustling crowd and the leisurely stallholders formed a sharp contrast between motion and stillness, like a scene straight out of "Along the River During the Qingming Festival." Standing amid the flow of people and looking back, with brilliant lights under the eaves, I had a sudden sense of deja vu — "Turning my head, I find her there where lantern light is dimly shed." In that moment, the scene was indescribably beautiful, one to savor for a long, long time…