A Late-Winter Stroll Through Suzhou: Lingering Garden, My Second Glimpse of Gusu Charm
Among Suzhou gardens, if Zhuozheng Yuan (Humble Administrator's Garden) is the most famous, wouldn't Liuyuan (Lingering Garden) be a close second? Zhuozheng Yuan is the largest, covering nearly eighty mu, while Liuyuan spans thirty-five mu; other gardens occupy just a dozen or so mu. Liuyuan was first built during the Wanli reign of the Ming dynasty, three reigns later than Zhuozheng Yuan — a full seventy years. How could three reigns take seventy years? Because one of them was the long-lived Jiajing Emperor, who reigned for forty-five years. Some Suzhou gardens are even older than both: Lion Grove Garden and Fisherman's Net Garden boast longer histories.
According to records, Liuyuan was first laid out in the twenty-first year of the Wanli reign (1593 AD), by a man named Xu Taishi. Xu’s ancestor was Xu Pu, Chief Grand Secretary during the mid-Ming Hongzhi reign, who assisted Emperor Xiaozong in bringing about the 'Hongzhi Restoration' and is remembered as one of the dynasty’s most accomplished ministers. Xu Pu once acquired the Song-dynasty painting Along the River During the Qingming Festival by Zhang Zeduan, and when he retired he passed it on to his colleague Li Dongyang, thus preserving it. Xu Taishi himself was born into a family of scholar-officials — cultured ones at that. He earned his jinshi degree in the eighth year of Wanli, and his first post was in the Ministry of Works, as a construction supervisor. His first project was renovating Cining Palace. The Wanli Emperor Zhu Yijun had been only ten when he ascended the throne, and his birth mother, Consort Li (of maid-servant origin), lived in Qianqing Palace to look after him. Once the emperor came of age, Xu Taishi was ordered to rebuild Cining Palace so that Consort Li — now titled Empress Dowager Cisheng — could move out of Qianqing Palace and live there. After she settled in, she proclaimed herself the incarnation of the Nine-Lotus Bodhisattva.
Xu Taishi then oversaw the building of the Wanli Emperor’s own tomb — Ming Dingling, the only Ming imperial tomb ever excavated. For his achievements in imperial construction, he was promoted to Vice Minister of the Court of the Imperial Stud, the second-in-command there. The head of the Stud was one of the Nine Ministers.
Xu was an architect, an engineer by temperament, honest and blunt. He offended someone at court, who spoke ill of him before the emperor, and the Wanli Emperor sent Xu back to his native Suzhou to await further judgment — yet in the end, no real punishment came. With his architectural talents, Xu went home and expanded his family residence. Tuning out the world, he poured himself into creating an extraordinary garden. When finished, he called it 'Dongyuan' (East Garden). Xu kept a small circle of friends, often fellow jinshi graduates. Among them were Jiang Yingke and Yuan Hongdao, both county magistrates nearby. Both left writings praising the Dongyuan: Jiang wrote Record of the Hall of Latter-Day Joy, and Yuan composed a Brief Record of Garden Pavilions.
After the Xu family’s time, Dongyuan gradually fell into neglect. Not until the late Qianlong reign of the Qing did a Suzhou suburbanite named Liu Shu, disenchanted with officialdom, buy up the surviving remnants and rebuild it into a new garden. He named it Hanbi Shanzhuang (Cold Green Mountain Villa), popularly called Liu Garden. Liu Shu was an accomplished painter and calligrapher with a passion for collecting, and he preserved the garden’s cultivated character. Proud of his rebuild, he styled himself 'Master of Cold Green.' He even invited like-minded friends to stay, spending their days and nights discussing painting, calligraphy and ancient books. But that still wasn’t enough — he couldn’t hide so fine a garden away. In the early Daoguang period, he opened it to the public, causing a sensation. As the saying goes, 'Fame is as dangerous for people as fat is for pigs.' During the upheavals of the Xianfeng reign, Hanbi Shanzhuang was destroyed.
Then, in the Tongzhi period, a man from Changzhou named Sheng Kang, who was serving in Zhejiang as surveillance commissioner, came onto the scene. Sheng Kang was also a man of culture — a jinshi of the twenty-fourth year of Daoguang (1844 AD) — and had served as prefect, department magistrate, provincial treasurer, and the like. He must have visited the Hanbi Shanzhuang in his youth, because upon retiring he came to Suzhou and bought the ruined garden outright. Sheng Kang rebuilt the house and garden, expanding it during the Guangxu reign. He renamed it Liuyuan — Lingering Garden. The garden was later inherited by Sheng Kang’s son, Sheng Xuanhuai, and afterwards used by Sheng Xuanhuai’s son, Sheng Enyi, but it suffered heavy damage in the wars. What we see today is the garden restored after the new China took it into state ownership in 1953, recovering the appearance of Sheng Kang’s time.
In the early 1950s, Lingering Garden was restored alongside Zhuozheng Yuan, and the two were then placed under the unified management of the Suzhou Garden Administration. Consequently, Lingering Garden and Zhuozheng Yuan were both included in the first batch of Major Historical and Cultural Sites Protected at the National Level, and both were among the first Suzhou classical gardens inscribed on the World Heritage list.
After his rebuild, Sheng Kang wished to recall the former glory of the old Liu Garden, so he kept the sound of 'Liu' and changed the name to 'Liuyuan' (Lingering Garden). The calligrapher-painter Wu Yun, who had once been a colleague of Sheng Kang, inscribed the name plaque 'Liuyuan' for him.
The gate above, facing south, must be the gate of the old Liu Garden. Could it have been so low-key back then? Though three gate bays are visible within, the entrance itself is just a plain opening in the outer wall. The side-facing 'reversed rooms' on either side of the gatehouse extend southwards, enclosing a small square in front. Here the two reversed rooms are not the usual splayed screen walls, but more like two watchtowers flanking the entrance — paired 'que' towers. In the past, paired que towers were reserved for imperial architecture: they graced the Western Han Weiyang Palace, the Tang Daming Palace’s Hanyuan Hall, and the Meridian Gate of Beijing’s Forbidden City.
The current main entrance was rebuilt in the expanded section created by Sheng Kang, and has little to do with Xu Taishi’s old Dongyuan — or even with Liu Shu’s Hanbi Shanzhuang. The gatehouse is not a grand ceremonial gate; inside stands a standing screen carved to resemble red sandalwood.
On the front of the screen is a full depiction of Lingering Garden, with a horizontal plaque above reading 'Famous Garden of Wu' — a phrase from Yu Yue’s Record of Lingering Garden. Yu Yue was a jinshi of the thirtieth year of Daoguang, the great-grandfather of the renowned Redology scholar Yu Pingbo, and counted both Zhang Taiyan and Wu Changshuo among his students. The plaque is signed by Gu Tinglong, a Suzhou native who once served as director of the Shanghai Library. Yu Yue’s Record of Lingering Garden is written on the back of the screen, in the calligraphy of Wu Jinxian, a contemporary Suzhou calligrapher.
This is the first building you enter after coming through the main gate.
You could call this the gate hall. Covered corridors run along either side, and the space they enclose isn't really a courtyard — it’s a 'sky well' typical of Huizhou-style residences. This gate hall serves as the inner gate, with a wooden screen in the middle, so it functions as a 'screen gate' to block views from outside. A screen-gate hall is already unusual, but here there’s something even more special. Ignore the man and I taking photos of each other, and notice the screen: it doesn’t bear a single large painting, but rather four framed panels. Very unusual, isn’t it? Step closer for a better look.
These are four paintings of paired birds and spring blossoms. I'll fumble together a verse for them: Red plum, white plum, peonies in stately bloom; twin birds glide on spring breezes. No chirp of spring insects rises from beneath the rocks, just the subtle fragrance trailing from the branches.
Look more carefully — these are actually four panels of famille-rose porcelain painting! Such a screen of four famille-rose porcelain panels hung at a gatehouse entrance is unique in all the world. It makes your eyes widen the moment you step in and you can’t help a quiet 'wow.' Your first instinct is that this garden is something out of the ordinary. Are these panels remnants of Dongyuan? Relics of Hanbi Shanzhuang? Heirlooms from Sheng’s Lingering Garden? If none of the above, then they were hung here when Suzhou restored the garden. The restoration was still under the direction of that old master Wang Xingbo. You can see that Master Wang’s aesthetic sense was far beyond that of ordinary men!
A turn to the left takes you into a transitional hall.
This is an open hall, three bays wide and three bays deep, with a lattice-screen partition running along the inner columns. It’s a 'sandwich-panel' screen, and the panels themselves hold four more calligraphy-and-painting works. Outside the front of the hall, rocks are piled, trees and bamboo planted, creating a scene. In autumn, you catch the fragrance of sweet osmanthus, which makes plum blossoms envious and chrysanthemums blush.
On the side wall of the open hall are embedded stone tablets of calligraphic samples.
After Liu Shu built Hanbi Shanzhuang in the early Qing, he loved collecting calligraphy and paintings so much that he sought out ancient masterpieces and had their calligraphy carved into stone tablets, then set into the walls, making this a characteristic feature of the garden. Later owners continued this tradition. Everywhere in the garden you can spot such carved calligraphy stones.
Take a look at this one: two letters by Wang Xizhi of the Eastern Jin — the Zhì wèn (Inquiry) letter and the Kuò bié (Long Parting) letter.
Passing through this hall, you enter a winding covered corridor. This corridor snakes and turns continuously through the garden, linking one pavilion, terrace, or hall to another. The total length of the covered walkways in Lingering Garden is seven hundred metres, second only to the Long Corridor in Beijing’s Summer Palace. Where the corridor makes a bend, a small sky well is formed, and a scene is arranged there.
A tree bed is built against the wall: a cypress is planted, and next to it a camellia. The wall bears a stone plaque reading 'Ancient Trees Intertwining.' 'Intertwining' means branches crossing. Two intertwined trees stand east and west: camellia in the west, cypress in the east. Leaning by the wall and stones, gazing at the warm sun, letting the winds from every direction blow.
The garden is full of these sky wells created by the winding corridors, each with rocks, trees and landscaped features. The one below, 'Flower-Step Humble Nook,' is another example.
The plaque 'Flower-Step Humble Nook' and its inscription are by Qian Daxin, a leading figure of the Qian-Jia School of classical scholarship during the Qing, a scholar as eminent as Gu Yanwu. In Liu Shu’s Hanbi Shanzhuang, there were several inscriptions by Qian Daxin. 'Xiao zhu' (humble nook) denotes a dainty, compact building — it must be exquisite, tasteful, quiet and serene, or else it’s just a small enclosure. 'Flower step' of course means flowers at every pace, a new scene with every step. Strolling along the covered corridor, you find it is indeed so.
The corridor features many latticed windows — partly for light, partly for composed views. Look at this one.
In the small sky well outside the window, a camellia is planted. When it blooms, gazing through the window feels like admiring a painting. This is called 'framed scenery': using architectural frames, doorways, or window openings as picture frames to look at the view beyond. The framed subject can be either manmade like this one, or borrowed directly from nature. Now see another spot.
Here the window has a cross-shaped crabapple lattice pattern, and the scene beyond becomes somewhat ethereal. This is 'leaking scenery': a framed view captures the form; a leaking view evokes the essence. See how deep and sophisticated Chinese aesthetic ideas are? Just by using one tiny latticed window, you can distinguish different modes of expression — contrast of light and dark, solid and void.
The ways of creating views in Lingering Garden are infinitely varied. Above, the frame comes first, then the scenery. Now look below: if you stand in the right spot, you’ll see the scenery in front and the frame behind — still a kind of framed view.
Here, a pot of red plum blossoms serves as the focal point, with the open front of the Pavilion of Fine Clear Days, Joyful Rain and Swift Snow as the frame. 'Fine clear day': the Song poet Ceng Ji wrote of clearing after snow, 'Triple snow, a clear day is good too; mountains in succession cloaked in pale powder.' 'Joyful rain': Song poet Yang Wanli wrote of a welcome rain, 'To know how rain cheers all hearts, just listen to the stream’s trembling rumble. Wind ruffles ten thousand fields into an embroidered green quilt; clouds rub a thousand peaks into a screen of azure jade.' 'Swift snow': Song poet Chen Jie wrote, 'The night-singing study glows, no need for a lamp; dawn colours the plum eaves, heavy and bright. The remnant waxing moon washes the fine weather snow; from beneath the flowers, fine spring returns after a year’s gap.' Fine clear day, joyful rain, swift snow layered together — a cycle of a year, suggesting that beautiful scenes can be enjoyed in every season here.
Look at another example, this one using a doorway as the frame.
The stone plaque above the door reads 'Eastern Mountain Silk and Bamboo,' which alludes to a classical story. Eastern Mountain is Dongshan in ancient Kuaiji; silk and bamboo refer to traditional musical instruments — lutes, flutes, and such. The Eastern Jin luminary Xie An once lived in reclusion on Dongshan, drifting about the hills and playing music wherever he went, thoroughly content. He once praised himself: 'How far is this from Boyi’s way?' Some literati derided him: 'He shares joy with others, so he must share their sorrows too.' Later, at age forty, Xie An left Dongshan — the origin of the idiom 'return from Dongshan' (make a comeback). After leaving, Xie An commanded eighty thousand Eastern Jin troops to win the Battle of Fei River, defeating Fu Jian’s million-strong Former Qin force and laying the two-hundred-year foundation for the Northern and Southern Dynasties. Thereafter, reclusive music-making came to be called 'Eastern Mountain Silk and Bamboo' — a life of immortals, yet tinged with a hint of frustration at unrecognised talent.
Now a view framed by a moon gate.
Through the moon gate you can glimpse bamboo groves, a winding path, and a fairy-like dwelling within. The white courtyard wall and the distant view inside form a sharp contrast of light and dark — the reverse of the earlier dark-room-with-bright-view composition. Let’s go in and explore that fairy dwelling.
It turns out to be a small temple to Guanyin, with a free-standing statue of the bodhisattva on the altar. Above hangs the plaque 'Cloud-Storing Sanctuary,' signed by Lu Runxiang (pronounced 'Xiang'), the highest-scoring jinshi (zhuangyuan) of the thirteenth year of Tongzhi (1874 AD), who once served as Chancellor of the Imperial Academy. 'Zhu' means to store or accumulate; is a place that stores clouds a fairyland? Lu You of the Song dynasty wrote, 'A broad courtyard invites more moonlight; an empty hall half stores clouds. Pine sighs travel along the outer path; a spring vein divides to share with neighbours.' You will surely recall the nunnery in the Grand View Garden in Dream of the Red Chamber, Miaoyu’s Green Bower Hermitage. This Cloud-Storing Sanctuary is similar — a family hermitage. It was added by Sheng Kang in the late Qing period. Whoever practised Buddhism here, the Sheng family matriarch could worship Guanyin here.
In my previous piece I said, 'In such a lovely garden, one needs two gentle Jiangnan women to make the scene more graceful.' Here, two women step into the picture frame of the moon gate — an ancient garden beautiful as a painting, and people strolling within the painting.
Above the moon gate hangs a plaque reading 'How do you know I don’t know the joy of fish?' signed by contemporary calligrapher Su Juxian. The phrase comes from the 'Autumn Floods' chapter of the Zhuangzi, in the dialogue between Huizi and Zhuangzi on the bridge over the Hao River — the well-known philosophical banter about not imposing your own assumptions on others.
This plaque is here because this is a square pavilion by the water, a perfect spot for watching fish. Look at the tabletop in the pavilion — it looks like a slab of green stone. But it’s not: it’s an imperial 'golden brick' used for paving floors in the Ming and Qing palaces. Those golden brick kilns are located on the outskirts of Suzhou; the substandard rejects from production found their way into private hands, and many Suzhou gardens use such reject 'golden bricks' as tabletops. These kilns still operate today, supplying bricks for the Forbidden City and other imperial building restoration.
Sitting in this pavilion, you can watch fish. They live in the pond in front, called Huan yun Pond (Washed Clouds Pond). The name has an artistic charm, doesn’t it? By the green waters at the foot of Mount Gusu, Xi Shi washed her silk gauze; I wash my clouds. The Yue maiden washed her silk by the river; Daoyuan accompanied the immortals, washing clouds together.
In the pond rises a rockery representing the Isles of the Blessed, with three Taihu Lake stones set as the immortal mountains.
Among the three stones, the one in the middle and tallest is Guanyun Feng (Crown of Clouds Peak). Its entire surface is covered with perforations, wrinkles, folds and furrows, exquisitely sculpted on every side — perfectly matching Bai Juyi’s poetic praise: 'Its spirit intimidates bamboo and trees; its manner overpowers pavilions. Towering yet seeming about to move; majestic as though ready to topple. Its strangeness must shelter ghosts and sprites; its magic gathers clouds and thunder. Its dark sleekness is moistened by new rain; its mottled surface marked by ancient moss.' Guanyun Feng is one of the three great rare stones of the Jiangnan region, and the tallest of the three. The other two are Exquisite Jade in Shanghai’s Yuyuan Garden and Wrinkled Cloud Peak beside Lotus in the Breeze at West Lake in Hangzhou. Legend has it that this stone was originally bound for Emperor Huizong’s 'Flower and Rock Transport' in the Northern Song, but fell into a river during shipment and was retrieved in the Ming dynasty. It was only when Sheng Kang acquired the old Hanbi Shanzhuang and rebuilt it into Lingering Garden that this stone found its home here.
There is a wonderful story about the ancients’ reverence for stones. It is said that the Northern Song calligrapher-painter Mi Fu, appointed governor of Wuwei army in the Chongning reign of Huizong, arrived at the yamen and saw a marvellous Taihu stone standing in the courtyard. He said, 'How can one not bow before such an extraordinary stone?' He ordered the clerk to set up an incense table and offerings, fetched his official robe and jade tablet, and after changing, he performed a solemn kowtow, addressing the stone thenceforth as 'Shi Zhang' (Stone Elder). From then on, whenever an exceptional stone was found, it would be called 'Shi Zhang.' Mi Fu’s eccentric act spread, and no doubt people laughed at his foolishness. Even Emperor Qianlong once teased him: 'No harm in your stooping to worship, but why fuss with the courtly tablet?' Mi Fu’s original surname, Mi, should actually be Mi (of the Chu royal clan), descended from the Fire God Zhurong, one of the eight ancient clans. Many famous literati came from Mi lineage: Mi Qu (Qu Yuan), Bai Juyi, and this Mi Fu.
Because of Guanyun Peak, Sheng Kang built halls and corridors all around it, creating a courtyard. At its heart is Huan yun Pond. To the west is the 'How do you know I don’t know the joy of fish?' Pavilion; to the east, a covered corridor outside the west wall of Cloud-Storing Sanctuary, with a gable-and-hip-roofed pavilion built in the middle of the corridor. On the wall of that corridor-pavilion is carved: 'Clear spring washes the heart; white clouds gladden the spirit.' The Northern Song philosopher Shao Yong wrote, 'Many seek to wash the body, but never think of washing the heart. Washing the body removes dust and dirt; washing the heart removes evil and lust.' The Tang poet Meng Haoran wrote, 'Among the northern hills, amid white clouds, the recluse happily pursues his peace. Gazing afar, I begin to climb; my heart follows the wild geese until they vanish.' In the northeast corner of Huan yun Pond stands another pavilion, named after the peak: Guanyun Pavilion.
From the image above, you can see that to the north of the pond is the courtyard’s rear-hall building, also named after the peak: Guanyun Lou (Cloud-Crowned Tower). The tower is quite unique: its main section is a two-storey building three bays wide, with a gable-and-hip roof with single eaves and no dougong brackets. On either side of the main building are attached two-storey structures, each one bay wide, with a single-eave flush-gable roof. These two smaller buildings have a shallower depth than the main hall, but their rear walls are continuous with the main hall’s; from the front, they appear set back. These are known as 'hill-side towers' (kaoshan lou). Such towers are rare; if a single-storey main hall had side rooms, they would be called 'ear rooms,' so these side towers could also be considered 'ear towers.'
This Huan yun Pond courtyard is the most exquisite Chinese-style courtyard. Water in the centre, buildings to the north and south, corridor-pavilions east and west, and a towered building to the north. Traditional fengshui favours a south-low, north-high profile following the mountain, with water in front. On flat ground without mountains, you raise the foundations of successive courtyards; if you don’t have multiple courtyards, you build a tall building at the north, as here — a rear-hall tower.
Let’s look at Cloud-Crowned Tower.
On the rear wall of its western side bay is embedded a rock.
This is a piece of sedimentary rock containing a fish fossil — a cod, hence called 'Fish Fossil.' Sheng Kang had this rare fossil set into the wall as if it were a painting, and so he paired it with a plaque and couplet. The plaque reads 'Xian Yuan Tingyun' (Immortal Garden, Clouds Pausing) — a fairyland swirling with mist. The couplet reads: 'Crane’s fledgling hair first grows: ten thousand years of longevity; garden pine must bear branches for descendants.' This is a birthday couplet from Su Dongpo. Why hang it here? Did Sheng Kang celebrate a birthday here?
On the south side of the courtyard stands a grand five-bay hall, oriented south, with a single-eave gable-and-hip roof, surrounded by a veranda. Let’s go inside.
The central bay serves as a reception hall, with a back screen between the rear pillars. Hanging above it is a plaque: 'Hall of the Venerable Elder of Woods and Streams.' 'Woods and streams' connotes a place of reclusion; the Tang poet Li Bai, in praise of Xie An, wrote, 'Xie An is needing Dongshan courtesans, hand in hand through woods and streams, roaming everywhere.' 'Venerable Elder' (qishuo) means a senior of high virtue, from the Jin History: 'A man of advanced age and great virtue, virtue matching that of Shangfu.' The calligrapher is modern man of letters Wang Dong. On the back screen is Yu Yue’s Ode to the Crown of Clouds Peak with Preface, signed 'Calligraphy by Huirong of Three Han' — Huirong was a late-Qing calligrapher from the Three Han region in Liaodong. On the rear pillars flanking the screen hangs another couplet. In the secondary bays, between the rear pillars, are installed hallmarks of Suzhou wood carving: openwork moon-gate canopies, extremely ornate.
The end bays are nooks for quiet repose.
Throughout the Huan yun Pond courtyard, halls, towers and pavilions all take 'Guanyun' as their theme, with phrases of birthday congratulations and moral accolades. This area was built by Sheng Kang especially to admire Guanyun Peak, and he must have held a grand celebration here for his seventieth or eightieth birthday.
Sheng Kang was a stone lover. He gathered many fine stones from the former residence of Wen Zhengming and piled them in five groups in the courtyard beside the 'Chuanjing Hall' (Scripture Transmission Hall) of Hanbi Shanzhuang days. He called them the Five Peaks, deliberately planting bamboos among them and willows by chance.
That Chuanjing Hall of Hanbi Shanzhuang, in Xu Taishi’s Dongyuan period, was a three-bay Hall of Latter-Day Joy — recorded in Jiang Yingke’s Record of the Hall of Latter-Day Joy mentioned earlier. Liu Shu, when building Hanbi Shanzhuang, expanded it to five bays. After Sheng Kang rebuilt it, it became the largest hall in Lingering Garden — the main hall.
This grand hall faces south, set on a two-foot-high platform. Unlike in Zhuozheng Yuan, halls here rarely have ascending stone steps in front, but this one does: a single flight of rock-step-like treads. On the platform stands the building, five bays wide and three bays deep. The front of the central and secondary bays are fitted with six-panel lattice doors — the highest grade of lattice door. The end bays are enclosed by solid walls with lattice windows. You saw a 'leaking scenery' shot earlier taken at this very building. When it was originally three bays, it probably had a hip-and-gable roof with verandas on all four sides. After expansion to five bays, the verandas were enclosed for the end bays, and the roof was changed to a single-eave flush-gable roof with no dougong brackets; the front central and secondary bays have extended eaves supported by flying rafters. When not using bracket sets, flying rafters can extend the eaves, though the extension is limited. Let’s go inside.
The floor is paved with grey bricks. The ceiling is not left open; instead, a flat latticed ceiling is installed. Inside, extra columns between the outer eaves columns and inner columns divide the space functionally. The central and secondary bays form one large reception hall. A lattice screen is placed between the rear inner columns, and the central bay forms a small, warm chamber, somewhat like a miniature shrine.
Inside this warm chamber are seats for host and guest: the standard arrangement of side table, tall side tables, square table, and grand tutor’s chairs. On the back screen hang four hanging scrolls: Wang Xizhi’s Preface to the Orchid Pavilion Collection, brushed by Ma Xifan, who briefly served as Prefect of Hanzhong in the early Republic. Over the rear columns of the chamber hangs the plaque 'Five-Peak Immortals’ Hall,' signed by Wu Dacheng, a late-Qing man accomplished in both civil and military arts, as well as painting and calligraphy. The couplet on the pillars is a housewarming message from a friend when Sheng Kang’s new hall was completed.
The wooden structure and furniture of this Five-Peak Immortals’ Hall are all made of nanmu (a prized hardwood), so it is also popularly known as the Nanmu Grand Hall. Look at the chairs: the seats for host, main guest, and accompanying guests are all the same — 'rose chairs' with very small armrests. In fact, in wealthy households, host and guest seats more often were grand tutor’s chairs, both in the north and south. The round marble-topped nanmu table and six round nanmu stools in the centre of the hall are dining furniture; they shouldn’t be here — they belong in a dining room in the residential quarter. If a banquet were to be held here, they would only be brought out at mealtime.
Because the front three bays of doors can all be opened, the hall is very well lit and not dim at all.
In the courtyard in front, more Taihu rocks are piled up, shaped into five small peaks, said to mimic the Five Old Men Peaks of Mount Lu — which is why the hall is called Five-Peak Immortals’ Hall. Sitting inside, you can view the rockery through the open front doors.
A six-panel sandwich screen between the rear inner columns divides the interior into a front hall (the main reception area) and a rear hall. In the rear hall’s central bay is a square table with armchairs. In the western end bay of the rear hall stands a large marble screen against the side wall; the stone is a metre across, bearing wondrous natural veining that resembles a landscape painting, called 'The Sky Clearing After Rain.' But that corner is too dim for a picture. Lingering Garden has three treasures: one is Guanyun Peak in Huan yun Pond; the second is the fish fossil in Cloud-Crowned Tower; and the third is this marble screen.
Besides the main Five-Peak Immortals’ Hall and the grand Hall of the Venerable Elder, Lingering Garden has several other freestanding halls, such as Cloud-Crowned Tower and Cloud-Storing Sanctuary. There are still more. Look at this one below.
Three bays wide, with a single-eave flush-gable roof. To improve lighting, the front and rear are fully opened with lattice doors, and above the door lintels run lattice transoms with crabapple lattice patterns. Let’s enter.
It’s one bay deep, with a grey-brick floor and open ceiling. Over the central bay’s rear lintel hangs the papered plaque 'Hanbi Shanfang' (Cold Green Mountain Retreat), signed by 'Lay Buddhist Xiangchan' — this is the late-Qing calligrapher Pan Zhongrui. The room is furnished with huangtan hardwood pieces. In the central bay, a dining table is paired with six blue-and-white porcelain barrel-shaped garden stools. Such stone or porcelain drum-stools are chilly, so before the master or mistress sits, a maid would come and place an embroidered silk pad over the stool — hence these stools are called 'embroidered stools.' This is the standard setup for a dining room. The side bays serve as smaller sitting rooms, their walls hung with calligraphy and paintings.
One is a painting of lotus flowers; the other two are quatrains by the Song poet Yang Wanli on red and white lotus.
Hanbi Shanfang was the Sheng family’s banquet hall. Does the layout remind you of something? Isn’t it just like the private rooms in today’s fine restaurants? A dining table in the middle, with sofas and chairs around it for guests to chat before the meal and sip tea afterwards. Today’s high-end restaurants learned this arrangement from Hanbi Shanfang in Lingering Garden!
Next to Hanbi Shanfang is a small building, with an open-sided pavilion below. Take a look inside the pavilion.
It’s a place for resting and tea. The rear beam carries the plaque 'Qia Hang' (Just Right Boat). The Tang poet Du Fu wrote: 'In autumn the water is only four or five feet deep; a rustic boat barely holds two or three people. White sand, green bamboo, a riverside village at dusk; facing the wicker gate, the new moonlight bright.' Below the plaque hang four hanging scrolls — paintings of landscape, pavilions, and an old fisherman — and these are blue-and-white porcelain paintings! At the entrance gate screen were four famille-rose porcelain panels; here hang four blue-and-white porcelain panels. The owner of Lingering Garden had quite a refined taste.
In front of this pavilion lies a pool, perfectly matching the 'white sand, green bamboo, riverside village' mood of Du Fu’s verse.
On the hill north of the pool stands a hexagonal pavilion. Its hexagonal spire roof also has soaring ridge lines, typical of the sharp Suzhou-style upturned eaves.
Of course, the pavilion is accompanied by unusual rocks and ancient trees.
Here at 'Ke Ting' (Approval Pavilion), you have hill and pool, trees and rocks. Standing here and viewing Lingering Garden, one is reminded of Bai Juyi’s sigh: 'A home of ten mu, a garden of five mu; a pool of water, a thousand stems of bamboo. Don’t say the land is small, don’t say the spot is remote; enough to bend a knee, enough to rest a shoulder. A hall and a court, a bridge and a boat; books and wine, songs and strings. An old man with white beard fluttering within.' You see, old Sheng Kang quite basked in Bai’s poetry, sighing in the pavilion: 'A green pool visible, a noble hall visible; bamboo and stones visible, the household ladies visible.' So he called this place 'Ke Ting' — the Pavilion of Approval.
North of the pool is Ke Ting on the hill; directly opposite, south of the pool, stands a tower.
Above the octagonal doorway below the tower, a stone tablet reads 'Qu Xi' (Meandering Stream). Standing under this gate, gazing down upon the winding pool and its four shores, wouldn’t you recall the Song verse: 'Your home lies by a green stream, its winding shore forms an eddy; countless stones swirl within, water rushes and chafes them smooth'?
Beside the north courtyard wall, a plot of land has been opened for bonsai displays — it’s called the Bonsai Garden, and also 'Another Village.' The bonsai garden naturally has many bonsai, but the best sight is a corner where a small pool has been dug. On its north shore, a craggy cliff of spiky bamboo-shoot stones is piled high, with a welcoming pine planted on top — a giant bonsai scene.
Lingering Garden may not cover as much ground as Zhuozheng Yuan, but its main features are arranged in good order, interwoven with small pavilions and little terraces that play off each other, fully displaying the exquisite taste of a Jiangnan garden. Even the bends of the winding corridor casually form a few sky wells, where a tiny scene can be created: pile a few rocks, plant a flower, and a picture is made.
I can only make a brief round here. But if I were a permanent Suzhou resident, I could regularly enjoy the spring-to-summer flowers flourishing and leaves lush, then autumn-to-winter leaves red and snow white. Truly: A garden of delight under a clear spring sky; sparse hedges, winding corridors amid a profusion of pines and bamboos. Southern tower, northern pavilion encircling the water spread; east wind, west rain, halls and pavilions deep.
