A Sigh over the Mogao Caves

Dunhuang, two characters too grand. They have been a thunderous presence in my ears since childhood, so much so that I always thought it should be an extraordinary city that could keep pace with Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou.

Now I have finally arrived in Dunhuang. Standing at the very center of the city, in front of the statue of the Apsara Playing the Pipa Reversed, I felt as if the merciless wind and sand were mocking me with cold indifference.

The city of Dunhuang is too small. It looks just like an ordinary, common small county town, which simply does not match the image these two characters had built in my mind! Fortunately, this is only the place for contemporary life. In reality, the Dunhuang that is etched in every Chinese person's mind exists in two places. One is at the Mogao Caves; the other is closer, five kilometers south of the city—Mingsha Mountain.

Since it was so close, I went to Mingsha Mountain in the afternoon.

Mr. Qiuyu said: The endless sand mountains under the setting sun are an incomparable earthly beauty. Even when I stepped into Mingsha Mountain, the sun was still high in the sky, with some time left before sunset, yet it was already 'earthly beauty.' The graceful contours of the sand dunes, the soft warmth of light and shadow between heaven and earth, the caravans of camels passing by, the scattered tourists, and the vast desolation of the towering sand mountains—all left me, who had just stepped away from the coldness of books and longed to see the desert's warmth for the first time, momentarily speechless.

Soon, my excitement became unstoppable. I dashed up the sand mountain, but after only a few steps, I was exhausted and out of breath. My companion called me back, suggesting we go see Crescent Spring first.

To borrow Mr. Qiuyu's words, the Crescent Spring at the foot of Mingsha Mountain is an incomparable earthly wonder.

It appears together with the desert, which seems unreasonable. It is hard to imagine that even the so-called desert oasis has not been swallowed by the wind and sand of a thousand years; instead, it ripples with clear waves, quietly nestled among the sand dunes for centuries, deeply affectionate. It is hard to imagine that even a desert oasis—a small pool of water in the desert with a few sparse plants—would be a blessing, yet it insists on being shaped like a crescent moon, making human aesthetic notions pale in comparison to nature's ten-thousandth part. And it bears such a beautiful name—Crescent Spring.

Existence is reasonable. One can only sigh in wonder at its marvel.

I went up the mountain again. I found the simple walkway laid on the sand mountain. It was indeed not as strenuous as before. But the sand mountain was very high, and when I finally reached the top, I still felt a bit like a spent arrow.

This ascent, to be rational, was solely to see Crescent Spring and glimpse its full view.

Standing on the summit of the sand mountain and looking at Crescent Spring, far from feeling it was small, I found it even more magnificent. In winter, the lake water of Crescent Spring freezes, and most of the surface is covered with snow. Some might think it bleak and uninteresting. But consider this: everyone has in their mind a crescent of blue water rippling, believing that is its true form. They happily go to verify it, only to leave hastily. Few have seen its graceful snow-clad elegance, few have realized that, having traversed the dust of history, it has endured the harsh tests of wind, frost, snow, and rain, and still survives vigorously after a thousand years. Winter is the time to see this resilience.

At this point, I began to gradually feel the tension of Dunhuang. It seemed to coincide with my childhood impressions, yet I couldn't quite articulate what those impressions were. Until the next day, when I went to the Mogao Caves.

Dunhuang is a heavyweight cultural symbol in Chinese history. One Mogao Caves is enough to encompass most of it. One Library Cave is enough to humble the world's most noble cultures. Of course, I knew of the Mogao Caves, like many who are devout to Chinese culture. Yet I also did not know the Mogao Caves—not even why it is named so, what there is to see, nor why it possesses such depth and such lofty cultural enchantment.

I was going to see the real 'Apsara Playing the Pipa Reversed'!

Impatiently, I put on the earphones handed to each visitor by the guide. When the guide unlocked the door of the first cave with a key, a dialogue spanning a thousand years of time and space began. I am sure I was more excited than when the Daoist Wang accidentally opened the door of the Library Cave.

Because I didn't understand, I sought knowledge; because I sought knowledge, I listened attentively and looked carefully. To protect the cultural relics, lights are prohibited inside the caves. Only the guide's small flashlight emitted a faint light, darting and flickering in the pitch-black cave. In my view, though the light source was weak, it could illuminate the hearts of every Chinese descendant.

The explanation was excellent. The Mogao Caves are a book, and the process of explanation is a lesson—a lesson that makes one forget the bell for class dismissal. The arrangement of the tour was very reasonable. Apart from a few large, must-visit caves, the visiting route was basically selected according to the dynasties of the caves. However, groups of visitors came wave after wave, and sometimes when we arrived at a cave from a certain dynasty, it was already occupied. Then we would choose another cave from the same dynasty with a similar style for the visit and explanation. In short, the caves selected were basically the most representative ones from each dynasty. For instance, I was fortunate to see the original mural that served as the prototype for the film 'The Nine-Colored Deer'; on the other hand, I missed the 'Apsara Playing the Pipa Reversed.' Accept what you get with equanimity; let go of what you lose with indifference—just as the Mogao Caves, laden with the dust of history, reappeared before the world, everything happened naturally.

The iconic 'Nine-Story Building' of the Mogao Caves is a must-visit for every group, and the interior was indeed crowded with heads. However, of the giant Buddha that people flock to see, only the feet are original; another must-visit is the large cave where the Library Cave is located. But the Library Cave as it is today looks like an ordinary, unremarkable small rough room, naturally empty inside. Wait, that's not quite right. There is something inside the cave, of course not contemporary artifacts, but some furnishings for later generations to pay homage or for tourist amusement. The door of the Library Cave is extremely small and entry is forbidden; one can only peek inside to get a glimpse. It seems to be a statue erected later; I guess it might be of the Daoist Wang. I have no interest in commenting on the merits and faults of historical figures; after all, the mountains and rivers are silent, and only real history has occurred. There was not much to see in that glimpse, but this is the Library Cave that truly astonished the world. At this moment, history is for imagination. I sighed softly; when the sealed door of the cave opened, a little dust fell from the ancient scriptures.

Some say that when visiting historical sites today, it is hard to see things from before the Ming and Qing dynasties. But the Mogao Caves are just the opposite. Mr. Qiuyu pointed out: The Mogao Caves of the Ming and Qing dynasties have little to remember.

Thus, one can conclude: To see historical relics from before the Ming and Qing dynasties, please go to the Mogao Caves.

The Dunhuang trip. I won't mention the distant Yang Pass and Yumen Pass; nearby, only two places are worth visiting. They are: Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring; and the Mogao Caves.