A Hand-drawn Nanjing: Autumn Day, a Nostalgic Journey, Enamored with Jinling
My earliest memory of Jinling city comes from Dream of the Red Chamber: 'Last year I arrived in the Jinling region, wishing to tour the relics of the Six Dynasties. That day I entered Stone City, passing by the gate of his old residence.' Researchers have confirmed that almost the entire Changjiang Road is related to Dream of the Red Chamber, from Fuzi Miao (Confucius Temple), Taoye Ferry, Sanshan Street, Dongjian Dao, to the Jiangning Imperial Silk Manufacturing Museum...
Two years ago, I visited Nanjing with my parents during the winter break. The winter chill was biting, and we went to a few well-known places. Thinking back now, I still remember strolling with them along the shores of Xuanwu Lake, chatting about school and daily trivialities. Now I live far away alone, rarely traveling with my parents—a regret, I suppose.
It's been a long time since I've taken such a soul-nourishing trip. I used to always think about traveling abroad, rarely considering domestic trips, especially to nearby places. Strictly speaking, this 60-hour short tour came from a sudden decision—like returning to a familiar small living room. Yet even this only allowed me to glimpse a corner of Nanjing.
I love Nanjing. Unlike Hangzhou where I live year-round, which is elegant and delicately beautiful, Nanjing carries an extra layer of grace and nobility. Like Jia Baoyu, a born romantic, it embodies a gentle warmth, revealing a refined and exquisite traditional life sentiment. 'A land of the Six Dynasties' gold and powder, the imperial prefecture of Jinling.' Dynasties rise and fall ceaselessly, history passes like fleeting clouds. Gold-powdered terraces, strong wine and song, summer giving way to autumn, moonrise and sunset. In the hazy outlines, the enchanting aroma of wine and the bustle of everyday life waft through.
Nanjing's autumn is beautiful and fleeting. When the autumn wind rises, the leaves of the plane trees fall to the ground and before your eyes. The ginkgo trees blaze a golden yellow; a gentle breeze always sends a few leaves drifting onto you. Qixia Mountain is a sea of red leaves, and in the eyes of painters, this is the best time and place for sketching. Recalling the past of Jinling, fragments surface: half a century of the Republic of China along Yihe Road, the dappled tree shadows before the cross at Librairie Avant-garde, the Song, Qi, Liang, Chen dynasties at the Six Dynasties Museum...
The plane trees along the streets, the locust tree shading the gate of Jiming Temple, the green ripples of Xuanwu Lake, the lakeside scenery. The vast Yangtze River, the majestic Zhongshan Mountain, the sound of oars and lantern shadows on the Qinhuai River—old dreams resurface. Jinling is wonderful; who will pass on this nostalgia?
Early in the morning, I headed to Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum, but it turned out I was still late—pleasant weekends always draw crowds. Ming Xiaoling is the joint tomb of the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang, and his empress, Ma. Empress Ma was posthumously honored as 'Filial and Kind Empress Gao,' and because the dynasty ruled with filial piety, the mausoleum was named 'Xiaoling' (Filial Mausoleum).
What fascinated me most was the so-called 'most beautiful 600 meters'—the Sacred Way lined with stone statues. In order, they are lions, xiezhi (mythical beasts of justice), camels, elephants, qilin, and horses, each with two poses: kneeling and standing, welcoming visitors along the path. Each of the six creatures carries a symbolic meaning: the lion represents imperial power; the xiezhi, a law-enforcing beast that distinguishes right from wrong, stands for justice and impartiality; the camel symbolizes the frontier, connecting all directions and reflecting the vast territory and might of the Ming Empire; the elephant, the greatest of beasts, solid and powerful, signifies a stable realm; the qilin, one of the legendary 'Four Auspicious Spirits,' conveys good fortune and brightness; the horse, the most important mount, implies national prosperity.
Craftsmen of old carved these statues with meticulous chisel and drill, and they seem to condense a touch of spirituality. Six hundred years of wind and rain have not eroded their solemn majesty. The apricot-yellow and maple-red foliage pairs with the stone figures like a match made in heaven.
Jinling has always been heavy with imperial aura, but before the Ming Dynasty, all previous courts were only regional powers. The Six Dynasties and the Southern Tang enjoyed only brief prosperity. Then the Ming Dynasty emerged dramatically. Although later the Yongle Emperor Zhu Di moved the capital to Beijing, the founder Zhu Yuanzhang's body still rests on the southern slope of Purple Mountain, embraced by hills, water, and shade.
Following the crowd, I arrived at the main structure of the mausoleum—the Hall of Enjoyment. The original hall was destroyed, and what stands now is a reconstruction on the same scale. Further back are the last above-ground structures: the Square City, the Ming Tower, and the Precious Roof.
The Square City is a massive structure with 54 steps that nearly did me in, clumsy as I am. Atop it stands the Ming Tower, covered in golden glazed tiles—truly magnificent. The Precious Roof lies behind the Square City, its southern wall built with 13 layers of stone blocks, with the inscription 'This Mountain is the Tomb of Ming Taizu' carved horizontally across the center.
Most of the early Ming palaces were destroyed by war, yet Xiaoling remains relatively well-preserved, suspended in the formaldehyde of time. Deep in Zhongshan Mountain, on the southern slope of Purple Mountain, paying respects at the tomb, seeking autumn and exploring history—this is also a way to express nostalgic emotions.
According to historical records, the monk Xuanzang passed away in Chang'an (now Xi'an) and was buried in a pagoda at Xingjiao Temple. After tomb raiders and damage during the Huang Chao Uprising, his skull relic was brought back to his native Nanjing by the monk Fazheng. A pagoda called the 'Sanzang Pagoda' was built at the then Da Bao'en Temple to enshrine it. After many twists and turns, it was transferred multiple times and finally moved to Linggu Temple.
The Red Mountain Gate has a solemn hue, with green tiles and vermilion walls. The gatehead bears the inscription 'Linggu Scenic Realm.' A pair of stone lions stand guard. Walking to the end, a memorial archway is inscribed on the front with 'Great Benevolence and Righteousness' and on the back with 'Save the Nation, Save the People,' in honor of the fallen soldiers of the Northern Expedition.
The Beamless Hall is dignified and solemn. Outside, ginkgo leaves drift down. True to its name, it is built entirely of bricks and tiles, without a single beam. Originally constructed during the Hongwu reign of the Ming Dynasty, it was later used by the Kuomintang Central Committee as a memorial hall for revolutionary martyrs. In front of the hall stands a white marble bixi, a mythical creature always straining its head upward, carrying a stone tablet on its back, its four legs tenaciously supporting it. The enormous ginkgo tree before the hall attracts visitors, its golden leaves cascading like a waterfall, drifting gently down at the slightest breeze.
Going further in, the Zen atmosphere deepens, though the artificial ornamental pond in front of the temple gate is crowded with people. The maple leaves are red, colorful and truly enchanting.
Strolling slowly, treading over fallen leaves, I had already entered the Linggu sacred realm. The main hall is the Mahavira Hall, flanked by east and west side halls, with the towering Guanyin Pavilion to the north. Basking in the sunlight, I felt an extra layer of comfort and warmth. Buddhist chants linger, bells echo: 'Heavenly fragrance drifts through the vast hall, mountain air dwells in the empty corridor.' Everything was steeped in poetry and Zen.
If you go early, you can try the famous Linggu vegetarian noodles here. We arrived just as the last bowl was sold out—what a pity.
The most delightful surprise of the trip was Da Bao'en Temple, where I fulfilled my wish of experiencing stunning Hanfu (traditional Chinese clothing). I realized only after coming to Nanjing that wearing Hanfu on the street is quite common. Experiencing Hanfu in such an atmospheric site is not to be missed. I've always wished to try local attire wherever I go—just like wearing a kimono in Japan, an áo dài in Vietnam, or a sari in India or Nepal. I had similar expectations for Hanfu. As one of our traditional garments, Hanfu has become a 'pit' that more and more girls fall into, irretrievably hooked. I'm one of them—once you try it, you'll love it. This time, the Hanfu styles I saw at Da Bao'en Temple truly amazed me. I had visited Hanfu experience shops in Hangzhou before, but the ones I liked in pictures were always already rented out. Here, I saw many latest styles, all available to wear. I absolutely loved my outfit. The shop assistant said it was the newest 'Snow White' style chest-high ruqun. Lucky me, hehe.
Due to the devastating destruction during the Taiping Rebellion, only the foundation ruins remain today. The site was rebuilt on these foundations. Unlike many restorations, Da Bao'en Temple employs a more modern approach, integrating reproductions with the traditional site in a novel attempt at cultural heritage. The temple once housed a millennium-old underground palace and a precious gallery, which can now be seen in a protective display. The courtyard recreates the layout of a royal garden, surrounding the gallery. Ming Dynasty records praised the gallery as 'the most magnificent under heaven.'
In the exhibition area, you can also see world-class treasures such as the Seven-Jeweled Ashoka Pagoda and gold and silver coffins. The world-shaking, one-and-only 'Buddha's crown bone relic' was unearthed here. There have been many Buddhist relics, but the crown bone relic has only appeared once in this world. Along with it, more ritual vessels were found—offerings made by devoted believers to express their piety. After slumbering underground for a millennium, their re-emergence signifies a new cycle of reincarnation.
The 'Buddha Relic Light' exhibition hall dazzles with multicolored illusory radiance. In the center lies a reclining Buddha, flanked by two sala trees. 42,000 glazed lamps correspond to the 84,000 Dharma gates. Making a wish here might bring a miraculous response.
Under the bodhi tree is a favorite Instagram spot for Hanfu-clad girls. I personally think the best photo position is the third stone on the left—ethereal and dreamlike.
In its past, the glazed pagoda inside the temple was one of the seven wonders of the medieval world. People praised it: 'By day it rises like a golden wheel into the clouds; by night it shines like magnificent lamps against the moon.' The bells under its eaves tinkle softly in the evening breeze. Past and present, ancient charm in a new pagoda—the Buddhist light reappears.
When the Buddha was in the world I sank in oblivion,
After he passed into nirvana I was born.
I repent this body burdened with karmic hindrances,
Not having seen the Tathagata's golden form.
Leaving Da Bao'en Temple, it was already time for the evening lights. I followed the Qinhuai River toward Laomendong (Old East Gate). In the cool autumn night breeze, the sound of oars gurgled, accompanied by the gentle sway of water. The old prosperity seemed to linger, enough to soothe the heart. Under the intermingling of lanterns and moonlight, the glazed pagoda of Da Bao'en Temple receded further and further, and soon it was a thin, dusky night.
Laomendong was bustling with visitors. Many young men and women wore Ming-style Hanfu, laughing and strolling together, creating the illusion of having traveled back in time.
Nanjing's cuisine is most famous for its snacks. Time-honored brands are scattered through streets and alleys, and Laomendong is a grand collection of all kinds of Nanjing snacks: Blue Boss's sweet potato pudding in syrup, Jiang Youji's beef potstickers, Jiming soup dumplings, small fish pan-fried bread, Lu's plum blossom cake... All these beloved flavors can be found here, allowing you to literally 'eat from street end to alley end.'
Lu's plum blossom cake was the treat my friend Shanbei had been longing for on this trip. The red bean paste flavor is the classic one. Topped with soft, sticky little rice balls, the outer skin is crispy. Be careful when eating, as it can be very hot—don't rush.
Jiang Youji's beef potstickers: the queue was quite long, requiring a number. The potstickers are generously filled with juicy meat; one bite releases a burst of aroma.
Blue Boss's sweet potato pudding: Even I, not a dessert lover, couldn't stop eating. The osmanthus honey and taro are a perfect match—sweets truly have a healing effect.
Small fish pan-fried bread: be prepared to battle the queue. I ended up lining up for the less crowded stinky tofu next door.
Shen's stinky tofu: I recommend both the stinky tofu and the lanhua gan (tofu knots). The lanhua gan is soaked full of marinade.
Unfortunately, my camera ran out of battery, so I couldn't take photos of these dishes. There are many other delicacies, like Miaodong spare ribs, Jiming soup dumplings, Chengnan tofu pudding, Xianheng Tavern... If you get a chance, please try them for me.
'Chaotian Palace was originally the Xuanmiao Temple of the Tianqing Taoist Temple in the Song Dynasty, later renamed Yongshou Palace. In the 17th year of the Hongwu reign of the Ming Dynasty, it was decreed as the place for officials to practice court ceremonies. Since Yang Pu, it has been a state temple.' The name Chaotian Palace was bestowed by the Ming founder Zhu Yuanzhang, meaning 'pay homage to heaven' and 'audience with the Son of Heaven.'
Perhaps because it was cloudy with light rain today, the gray sky added to the melancholy of late autumn. Palaces, terraces, pavilions, red pillars and carved rafters.
Chaotian Palace was not as empty as I'd imagined. Perhaps it's because this might be the last week of autumn before winter sets in. Many girls in Hanfu, accompanied by photographers and makeup artists, were taking palace-style photos. But overall, it's still a tranquil place, where you can hear the ginkgo leaves rustling down.
The main structure is the Dacheng Hall, with yellow tiles and red walls, exuding extraordinary grandeur. The spacious square in front is surrounded by carved stone railings and balustrades adorned with chi head motifs.
The Chongsheng Hall also hosts the exhibition 'Cloud-like Garments and Hairpin Shadows: Song and Ming Attire,' showcasing exquisite treasures of clothing from both dynasties. The beauty is beyond imagination. Out of a girl's love for beauty, I couldn't help but envy the owners of these clothes and accessories.
Hidden behind tightly locked gates and heavy barriers, covered in green moss, I lingered in the deep corridors and winding pavilions. I particularly love this profound red, dappled with specks of light. At the back of the courtyard stands Jingyi Pavilion, at the highest point. The surrounding maple leaves have all turned red. In the ornamental pond, koi fish swim leisurely. Spring blossoms and autumn fruits—every season pairs perfectly with Chaotian Palace.
Remember the line 'I'm going to buy a few oranges. Stay here, don't move'? As a child, I never understood the beauty of that essay. Only after growing up and leaving home did I truly appreciate that restrained, profound fatherly love. I finally understood the line 'My tears quickly streamed down.' And the platform that father climbed, leaving his silhouette behind, is exactly here—Pukou Railway Station. It's also a filming location for many movies and TV dramas: Romance in the Rain, The Story of a Noble Family, Dr. Sun Yat-sen, Peking Ladies... A sense of déjà vu lurks in every corner.
The gap between pictures and reality is that the real place feels more decayed. But that didn't diminish the fun of exploring offbeat spots. The area around Pukou Railway Station is a modern architectural heritage zone with very few tourists. The old-fashioned waiting hall and platform are full of Republican-era nostalgia. Under the British-style rain canopy, a few young girls were rehearsing a dance. The old houses along the street are long empty, yet stall carts still sell various snacks, and yes, oranges too.
On the overpass, a few remaining carriages lie on the tracks. Most have completed their life's work. The bygone days of bustling traffic can only be remembered. Now high-speed rail has replaced the old green trains. The tracks are sparsely covered with fallen leaves; stepping on them, I worried about disturbing this century-old slumber. Mottled doors and windows stand as silent witnesses. The weather changed abruptly, the sun vanished, and the overcast sky added a sense of weariness and loneliness. The evening wind grew sharp, as if winter might arrive tomorrow, then the scene would be different again.
We today see not the moon of old; yet this moon once shone upon the ancients. Ancients and moderns flow like water; all alike see the bright moon as it is. Railway stations forever stage countless partings and reunions. Through imagination, I cherished the memory of that old Pukou Railway Station, the farewells of that era, the endless untold stories. Youth turns white-haired, gentlemen pass away; time fritters away, prosperity leaves no trace. Pukou Railway Station is not a tourist spot—it's just a corner forgotten by time. May it one day be restored to its original appearance.
Jiangnan has long produced talented scholars. Although not all of them were from Nanjing, the thought evokes the elegant demeanor of the Wei-Jin period and the figures of the Six Dynasties, the literary aura accumulated over a thousand years... Nanjing has many schools worth visiting. In our final moments, we chose to stroll around the Suiyuan Campus of Nanjing Normal University. Its history dates back to the Liangjiang Normal School in the late Qing Dynasty, later the famous Jinling Women's University and National Central University. After nationwide faculty adjustments in 1952, Nanjing Normal College was formed, finally renamed Nanjing Normal University in 1984.
I arrived late; the autumn rain had already started. Ginkgo leaves were beaten to the ground by raindrops—such a pity, as just hours ago they were still rustling in the breeze. The classical-style buildings grew hazy in the rain. Without an umbrella, I actually slowed my pace instead of hurrying for shelter, preferring to get wet and savor the moment quietly.
The rain intensified, so I stepped into a quiet haven called 'Suiyuan Bookstore.' In the small courtyard, fallen leaves covered the ground, and the wooden tables and chairs were wet. Inside, however, was a world apart: warm and softly lit, with simple Republican-era decor. Books filled the room, arranged in an orderly yet charming disarray. Autumn is the best season for reading and writing. Ordering a cup of black tea and picking up a few books, one can peacefully while away an afternoon—a small, certain happiness amidst the pitter-patter of autumn rain, a cheerfulness born of the drizzle.
As a lover of pig intestines, how could I miss this internet-famous fried rice? I specially took a taxi to eat there. The shop is small but packed, proof of its popularity. The intestines were cleaned well, and the pickled cowpeas were a real plus, exceeding my expectations. The rice grains were distinct and fluffy. What's more, on the high-speed train back, I saw the girl next to me had packed two portions of 'Hermès fried rice' to eat on the way home. Five-star recommendation!
Speaking of the most famous local cuisine restaurant in Nanjing, it has to be Nanjing Da Pai Dang, much like Grandma's Home in Hangzhou or Quanjude in Beijing. The interior is reminiscent of tea houses and taverns from the late Qing and early Republic era, and even the staff dress in late Qing style. During the meal, one can hear Suzhou pingtan storytelling and ballad singing. We ordered the Heavenly King roast duck buns, osmanthus sugar taro pudding, red bean rice balls, beef potstickers, and shrimp noodles. As someone from Jiangsu-Zhejiang, I found the food very agreeable. The flavors lean slightly sweet but are never cloying, just refreshing.
Day 1: Zhongshan Scenic Area (Ming Xiaoling—Linggu Temple) — Da Bao'en Temple — Night tour of Laomendong
Day 2: Wandering around — Chaotian Palace — Pukou Railway Station — Suiyuan Campus of Nanjing Normal University — Nanjing Da Pai Dang
Postscript | Regrets and a Wish List
The day after I returned, I heard it had snowed in Nanjing. I'm glad I caught the stunning autumn colors in the last week before winter, but I regret not seeing how beautiful Jinling might look in snow. Admiring plum blossoms and hot springs have been on my mind constantly—a generous gift winter bestows on this city's residents. Here's my must-do list for next time:
Hot springs and winter are a perfect match. Tangshan has been an important town in Jiangnan since ancient times, and its hot springs were once royal spas. A poem goes: 'Deeply love the hot spring's floating warmth, the town's name fittingly calls for comfort. In the setting sun, a flute plays a water-side song, two veins melt together, flowing all day long.'
Find a cozy hotel or a local guesthouse, soak in a hot spring to relax body and mind—that's how to spend winter.
I can wear Hanfu again! The Qinhuai Lantern Festival has a long history, with the earliest Yuanxiao (Lantern Festival) celebrations in China dating back to the Southern Dynasties. Today it's mainly centered around the Fuzi Miao area. A few years ago, I was lucky to see it with my parents when we came to Nanjing during the New Year. Hazy night, lanterns flickering on both banks of the Qinhuai River—just thinking of it fills me with nostalgia. If this year I could wear Hanfu and stroll with family and friends, carrying lanterns, I wonder what a magical experience that would be.
When winter snow falls in Jiangnan, only the plum blossoms bloom proudly on the branches: 'In the icy forest, I wear this robe, not mingling with peach and plum in the fragrant dust.' I want to see the precious 'Biejiao Wanshui' (A Corner of Evening Water) plum variety at Plum Blossom Hill in Ming Xiaoling, the 'treasure of the mountain.' Imagine it set against the red walls of the mausoleum—how indescribably beautiful that would be.
Due to time constraints, I couldn't properly visit several planned museums. The Nanjing Museum has numerous precious artifacts and national treasure-level calligraphy and paintings. The Six Dynasties Museum boasts architecturally striking buildings and relics showcasing the elegance of the Six Dynasties. And there's the modern Sifang Contemporary Art Museum. As an art student, I absolutely must visit next time.
Travelogue Index: 1. Prologue 2. Autumn Nostalgia 3. Ming Xiaoling | Autumn Hues, Stone Horses Before the Tomb 4. Linggu Temple | A Path Through Zen Woods 5. Da Bao'en Temple | Millennia of Buddha's Light, Glazed Pagoda Shining Like the Moon 6. Laomendong | Nighttime Food Tour 7. Chaotian Palace | Deep Red Palace Walls 8. Pukou Railway Station | Lost Old Times 9. Nanjing Normal University Suiyuan Campus | Drizzling Autumn Rain 10. Miscellaneous Notes | Nanjing Da Pai Dang & Wandering 11. Two-Day Itinerary 12. Postscript | Regrets and Wish List
