Climbing the Babai Tower in Yandu Ancient City, Yi County

The Babai Tower (see previous article for the origin of its name) stands in Yandu Ancient City, Yi County, Baoding, Hebei Province, on the banks of the Yishui River. It is a classical Chinese structure with eight floors, modeled after ancient pavilion design, fully integrating the humanistic philosophy of 'embracing nature, following the principles of heaven and earth.' Every architectural detail reflects the designers' and builders' reverence and love for this land.

China's landscapes are magnificent, and its people have a deep love for mountains and rivers. To better appreciate nature, pavilions and towers were built according to local conditions to overlook the scenery, offering the beauty of a lofty vantage point. As scenic architecture, Chinese pavilions, terraces, and towers blend with and complement the natural landscape, pursuing an aesthetic philosophy of balance between humanity and nature. For thousands of years, this has become our nation's cultural tradition and spiritual core. Famous towers like the Yellow Crane Tower in Wuhan, Yueyang Tower in Hunan, Tengwang Pavilion in Jiangxi, Penglai Pavilion in Shandong, Guanque Tower in Shanxi, Wangjiang Tower in Chengdu, Daguan Tower in Kunming, and Jiaxiu Tower in Guiyang are masterpieces of ancient Chinese architecture, representing profound history and superb architectural accomplishment, showcasing Chinese aesthetic ideals and the brilliance of Chinese civilization.

Back to the Babai Tower. While touring the ancient city, I simply could not ignore this tallest building. Its imposing stature and majestic aura provided immense comfort to someone like me who loves classical architecture—a chance to visit this famous tower by the Yishui River.

I won't go into excessive detail about the exterior, because no flowery words can truly capture its beauty. Terms like 'carved beams and painted rafters,' 'layered terraces and stacked pavilions,' 'flying eaves with flowing colors,' 'red pillars and engraved brackets,' 'dougong brackets,' 'jade-like carved balustrades,' and 'green tiles and vermilion roof ridges' would only cheapen the description. The poetic line 'A lofty tower by the water, a high pavilion leaning on clouds; winding corridors above and below, storied terraces rising and falling; emerald peaks as a screen, myriad willows swaying; gentle breezes under a light moon, especially lovely at dawn and dusk' suffices.

Standing outside and looking up, I felt it was impossibly high. Pushing the door open, I entered: the first floor is a reception hall displaying some local specialties. I went up to the second floor.

The second floor houses a 'Century-old Newspaper House,' with displays of old newspapers, condensing the history of Chinese journalism and telling the story of cultural dissemination and people's livelihoods. It has a strong nostalgic feel. We often hear about stamp collecting and seal collecting, but newspaper collecting is rare due to the difficulty of preservation. It's a delicate task, even more complicated than compiling local gazetteers... although I don't know much about gazetteers either. Given the effort put into the collection, I give it a thumbs up!

The third and fourth floors are calligraphy and painting exhibition halls, featuring exquisite works collected from domestic enthusiasts. There are copied calligraphy models, poetry scrolls, ink rubbings, stone inscription rubbings, and new works from various calligraphy schools. The ancient city's proximity to Beijing is an advantage, and years of accumulation have yielded quite a collection, though limited space means not everything can be displayed. I don't know much about traditional Chinese calligraphy and painting, and I suspect my generation is the same: with computers everywhere, handwriting has become rusty. My wrist feels weak now, and my writing looks like a drunk snake—I can't bear to look at it myself. People speak of 'wielding the brush like a god,' but I lament how my brush 'wanders off in distraction.' So whenever I see someone writing large characters on the street, I can't move my feet—forget whether it's good or bad, the spirit of preserving traditional culture deserves admiration. Calligraphy and painting are national treasures, yet they are sadly declining, which breaks my heart. To keep this art from withering in our hands, I've decided... to first learn to appreciate it. That's crucial.

The fifth floor is a folk customs museum, filled with many old northern Chinese items: carved beds, carved windows, carved screens, altar tables, round-backed chairs, tables and stools, as well as farm tools like plows, straw hats, hoes, and baskets. It conveys the layout and furnishings of a traditional northern home. Turning a corner... my thighs tensed up. I stumbled upon a wedding chamber scene: a large red carved bed, red curtains, red candles, and two joyful newlyweds. The scene was so realistic—the lifelike figures were indistinguishable from real people, especially since they were static. At first glance I thought they were alive. The bride was still wearing a red veil. Curiosity got the better of me, and I gently lifted it... Oh my, those figures—they must have cost a pretty penny. They looked almost exactly like real people, terrifyingly vivid, with veins visible beneath the skin. I poked one with a finger (don't try this, even though they were dummies) and it had some give. I was instantly awestruck and full of praise.

The sixth and seventh floors form the Yan Culture Experience Hall, which I heard is connected. Using important historical artifacts and events as nodes, it narrates the origin, rise, and fall of the Yan state. Yan spanned both the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, and telling its history inevitably involves events from various states, especially the 'Vertical Alliance' strategy promoted by Su Qin, which involved all seven major Warring States—and it all started because of Yan. Thus, the history of Yan can be considered half of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States history. The hall displays unearthed cultural relics: everyday items like pottery jars, bowls, plates, and currency; architectural remnants like tile ends, drip tiles, and eave components; and weapons such as longbows, arrowheads, bronze swords, and battle-axes. The walls are covered with poems praising or commemorating Yan, descriptions of events, allusions and stories, maps of the various states' situations, invasion routes, biographies of figures, etc. Key points are even brought to life with dioramas recreating historical scenes—truly mind-boggling in their richness. This small hall somehow condenses most of Yan's history, a labor of love. Thumbs up!

I won't recount the history of Yan here, or this travelogue would turn into a history book. Those interested can look it up on their own, and the experience hall makes it more vivid and profound. I'll just mention that, to my knowledge, this is the only place in China where you can personally immerse yourself in Yan's history—it's one of a kind.

Stepping out onto the outer veranda, I gazed into the distance: the Taihang Mountains to the west, the Yishui River below. It felt like 'the vast wilderness stretches as far as the eye can see, rivers and marshes meander astonishingly,' and 'gazing into the heavens, enjoying leisure to the fullest' probably describes exactly how I felt.

At this sight, my joy ebbed and sadness crept in. History's grand river is mostly filled with tragedies, merely ornamented by magnificent waves—especially felt here at the very site of the 'Lament by the Yishui River.' History teaches about rise and fall, bronze mirrors straighten attire, and people discern gain and loss. Looking back, all sorts of emotions swirled... Truly, it's a case of 'loving to climb high, forcing melancholy for new verses.' I couldn't help but smile. Ascending heights only adds to trouble.

As tradition has it, whenever one climbs a lofty tower, one should compose a prose poem. Alas, my writing skills are lacking. Let me instead pen a verse as a memento:

The land of Yan and Zhao's plaintive songs, the imperial capital of nine-five supremacy;

Jing Ke's righteous courage pierced the heavens, northern heroes resisted the Xiongnu;

The ancient city locks away the springs and autumns;

At the railing, lost in thought, tears soak my sleeves;

Outside Babai Tower, wind and rain batter, all say the misty waves before the threshold chill;

But I feel the water warming;

A thousand years of affairs end in a flash, leaving some frost at my temples.