A cultural journey witnessing the lingering influence of two dynasties.
This is a long travelogue, around 10,000 words. Feel free to just skim the pictures if you’re not up for reading it all.
This was my third trip to Beijing. The first time, I was too young to remember much. The second time, I skipped the historical sites and went straight to the Military Museum. This time, I finally explored the city, and it left a lasting impression.
Before leaving, I pictured the cockroaches in my house, hiding in every nook and cranny, planning a five-day party the moment I was gone. I opened my train ticket, my finger hovering over the refund button, a sly smile on my face. Suddenly, the house was filled with tiny wails and cries of despair: “No, no, no!”, “Stop–”, “Oh s**t!”… One particularly dramatic roach even did a front flip, splitting its cookie crumb in two.
Enough of that. I left anyway; let them have their fun.
I went straight to the high-speed rail station after work and arrived in Beijing that night. It was surprisingly quick, just 4.5 hours from Hangzhou. The trip was 4 days and 5 nights, during the Mid-Autumn Festival. The weather was perfect, with no rain during the day.
Day 1: The Central Axis and East Side of the Forbidden City
Beijing City
Before Emperor Yongle moved the capital to Beijing, he had a grand vision for the city. Beijing was designed with the Forbidden City at its heart, divided into four layers:
The innermost layer is the Palace City, the Forbidden City, now the Palace Museum. It runs from the Meridian Gate (Wumen) in the south to the Gate of Divine Prowess (Shenwumen) in the north. The “Zi” (紫) in “Zijincheng” (Forbidden City) refers to the Purple Star, or Polaris. Because Polaris appears fixed in the sky, with other stars revolving around it, it symbolizes the emperor. The “Jin” (禁) means forbidden, heavily guarded, and off-limits. Ming and Qing law decreed that commoners trespassing into the Imperial City would be caned 100 times and exiled 3,000 li. Those trespassing into the Palace City faced hanging.
Outside the Palace City is the Imperial City, stretching from Tian’anmen in the south to Di’anmen in the north. The Imperial City housed most of those who served the emperor.
Further out is the Inner City, roughly the area of today’s Beijing Subway Line 2. That’s why most Line 2 station names are gates (“men”). This was where ordinary people could live; even princes and ministers’ residences were limited to this area.
Finally, there’s the Outer City. Initially a small area on the south side, it expanded as the city grew.
Beijing is laid out along a central axis running through these four layers. The Forbidden City, and even the dragon throne in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, sits on this axis, emphasizing “centeredness” and “righteousness.” The grid-like road network of modern Beijing is a legacy of Emperor Yongle’s design.
The Gates of the Forbidden City
The Palace Museum entrance is at Tian’anmen. Going inward, you pass through Duanmen Gate and the Meridian Gate (Wumen) before entering the Forbidden City. Outside Tian’anmen, there were two more gates: Daqingmen and Zhengyangmen. Daqingmen, called Damingmen during the Ming Dynasty, was the “Gate of the Nation.” It was demolished during the construction of Tian’anmen Square. Zhengyangmen, also known as Qianmen (Front Gate), was mainly for defense. It once had a barbican and arrow tower, but only the gate tower and arrow tower remain; the barbican was torn down during the Republican period.
On either side of Tian’anmen are pairs of stone hou (a mythical beast) on huabiao (ornamental columns). The inner ones are called Wang Jun Chu (Looking for the Emperor to Go Out), meaning the emperor should go out and understand his people’s suffering. The outer ones are called Wang Jun Gui (Looking for the Emperor to Return), meaning the emperor should return and govern diligently.
Emperor: What more do you want?!
The gate opening of Duanmen
The Meridian Gate appears to have three openings but actually has five. From afar, you only see three, but two more are hidden on the sides. This, like the bridges over the Golden Water River, reflects a strict hierarchy. The central gate was for the emperor, though the empress could use it once during the imperial wedding, and the top three scholars in the imperial examination could use it once when leaving. The two side gates were for imperial relatives. The outermost gates were for officials, civil on the left and military on the right (from the emperor’s perspective, facing south). The Hall of Literary Glory (Wenhua Dian) on the east and the Hall of Military Eminence (Wuying Dian) on the west – the entire layout of the Forbidden City’s outer court followed this “civil on the left, military on the right” principle.
The Meridian Gate has walls on three sides
Looking back from inside the Meridian Gate, you can see Duanmen and Tian’anmen’s gate openings. Further out is the Monument to the People’s Heroes. If Daqingmen still existed, you’d see its gate openings, and Zhengyangmen’s, too. Five gates in a line – a powerful symbol of the emperor’s authority.
After the Meridian Gate is the Gate of Supreme Harmony (Taihemen). Although just a gate, it’s grander than most Forbidden City buildings. It caught fire during Emperor Guangxu’s reign, coinciding with his wedding. Protocol dictated the empress pass through it. Someone suggested a temporary paper gate, so realistic that palace staff couldn’t tell the difference. This paper gate was used for six years until the real gate was rebuilt.
The bronze lions in front of the Gate of Supreme Harmony
The Outer Court
The square between the Gate of Supreme Harmony and the Hall of Supreme Harmony (Taihedian) is the Forbidden City’s most open space, yet it has no trees. This grand, artificial landscape was designed to create a sense of awe and pressure on officials attending court, demonstrating the emperor’s majesty.
The Hall of Supreme Harmony is the Forbidden City’s most prestigious building, over 2,200 square meters, supported by 72 nanmu wood pillars. Its roof is the highest level in ancient architecture: a double-eaved, hipped roof. This type of roof, with its curved slopes, was usually reserved for the emperor. Double eaves were also forbidden for commoners.
The Hall of Supreme Harmony has burned down four times, during the reigns of Yongle, Jiajing, Wanli, and Kangxi. Being made of wood, it was highly susceptible to fire. The first two fires were caused by lightning; the latter two spread from elsewhere.
The fire during Jiajing’s reign is interesting. During reconstruction, Jiajing and his ministers discussed the cause and prevention. Without knowledge of lightning rods, they blamed the name. The original name, Fengtian Dian (奉天殿), had the characters written vertically, with “Feng” (奉) above “Tian” (天), potentially displeasing Heaven. Someone suggested writing it horizontally, enlarging “Tian.” Jiajing’s response: “Not elegant” – basically, “ugly”! They renamed it Huangji Dian (皇极殿), with “Huang” (皇) on top. The name Taihe Dian (太和殿) came during the Qing Dynasty.
Jiajing: Make the logo bigger, follow your idea, make it international, when can I see it?
Besides the name change, many fire prevention measures were taken, mostly based on feng shui. The only practical measure was placing large water vats throughout the city.
A water vat in the Imperial Garden
The Hall of Supreme Harmony was mainly for grand ceremonies, like enthronements, weddings, and military expeditions. However, due to fires and other reasons, few ceremonies actually occurred here. Only half of the 14 Ming emperors were enthroned here. Only six emperors (Zhengde, Wanli, Shunzhi, Kangxi, Tongzhi, and Guangxu) held their weddings (first marriages of young emperors) here. Only Kangxi held a military expedition ceremony here, before fighting Galdan. Emperors Zhengde and Jiajing went on expeditions, but skipped the formalities, ignoring ministers’ objections. Emperor Zhengde suffered a defeat at the Tumu Crisis.
East of the Hall of Supreme Harmony is Tiren Ge (Hall of Embodied Benevolence), a quiet area with few visitors.
During Kangxi’s reign, the Boxue Hongru examination was held here. This was a special talent selection, outside the regular imperial examination. Talented individuals were recommended nationwide. The Boxue Hongru exam was much better than the regular one: candidates had tables and chairs, no time limit, candles to continue after dark, and a luxurious dinner (400 taels of silver per table, compared to a county magistrate’s annual salary of ~60 taels). Fifty out of 130+ candidates were admitted, treated like top imperial examination scholars.
The Hall of Central Harmony (Zhonghedian) behind it is square with a round, gilded roof, reflecting the “round heaven, square earth” worldview. At times, the roof reflects sunlight onto the Erlang Temple, which people attributed to divine manifestation.
The Hall of Central Harmony served as the emperor’s resting place before ceremonies and hosted small banquets and meetings. Before the Ming Dynasty fell, Emperor Chongzhen’s last meeting was held here, where ministers offered little useful advice.
The Outer Court’s last building is the Hall of Preserving Harmony (Baohedian). Emperors Shunzhi and Kangxi lived here. “Hall” (dian) signifies state affairs; “palace” (gong), family affairs. Shunzhi initially lived in the Palace of Heavenly Purity (Qianqinggong), but it was in disrepair, so he stayed in the Hall of Preserving Harmony, renaming it a palace (Weiyu Gong, then Qingning Gong during Kangxi’s stay).
I didn’t get good pictures of the Hall of Central Harmony and the Hall of Preserving Harmony. This area is very crowded. The emperors watched officials shout “Long live the Emperor.” What would they think of today’s tourists?
Emperor: Guards!!!
The Inner Court
The Gate of Heavenly Purity (Qianqingmen) divides the Outer Court’s Three Halls and the Inner Court’s Three Palaces. The Palace of Heavenly Purity area forms a courtyard, including the Palace of Heavenly Purity (Qianqinggong), the Hall of Union and Peace (Jiaotaidian), and the Palace of Earthly Tranquility (Kunninggong). Originally, these were the emperor’s residence, a place for rituals, and the empress’s residence, respectively. But starting from the Inner Court, they often weren’t used as intended. Yongzheng moved to the Hall of Mental Cultivation (Yangxindian), the Palace of Earthly Tranquility became a place for sacrifices, and Cixi lived in the Western Six Palaces. Rules were often bent.
The Palace of Heavenly Purity has a plaque reading “Zhengda Guangming” (Justice and Honor). Starting with Yongzheng, to reduce infighting, a secret succession system was used. The emperor wrote a will, kept one copy, and hid another behind the plaque. After his death, the copies were compared for succession.
I took a magical photo in the Palace of Earthly Tranquility. The old-style glass reflects colorful light. The interior is dim, and the glass reflects the sky with stunning colors.
The sundial in front of the Palace of Earthly Tranquility
Behind the Three Palaces is the Imperial Garden, which is smaller than Prince Gong’s private garden. Of course, this is unfair; the imperial leisure areas included the Summer Palace, Yuanmingyuan, etc.
Heshen: I lost.
Scenes in the Imperial Garden
Exiting the Imperial Garden, you reach the Gate of Divine Prowess (Shenwumen), the Forbidden City’s north gate. The imperial family’s female members used this gate for outings; the emperor used the Meridian Gate, and they’d meet later.
The Gate of Divine Prowess was previously Xuanwumen. Traditional culture associates four divine beasts with directions: Green Dragon (east), White Tiger (west), Vermilion Bird (south), and Black Tortoise (Xuanwu, north). Xuanwumen often referred to a north gate. To avoid Emperor Kangxi’s taboo name, Xuanye (玄烨), it became Shenwumen (神武门).
Looking back at the palace walls from Shenwumen
Vents in the wall for ventilation and wood preservation
Looking back from outside the Gate of Divine Prowess
East Side of the Forbidden City
That’s the central axis. We then headed south from the Inner Court’s eastern part, visiting the Six Eastern Palaces. I’m not familiar with imperial harem history, and I can’t remember which concubine lived where. The most memorable was the popular Yanxi Palace, with a water palace. I initially thought it was a fire ruin, but the guide explained it was unfinished. Yanxi Palace had multiple fires. Consort Jin (or possibly Empress Dowager Longyu) commissioned a Western-style crystal palace, to suppress fire and enjoy fish. It had a pool with goldfish and a glass floor. Due to financial constraints, it was halted.
If completed, the underwater level would have resembled modern ocean parks.
South of the Six Eastern Palaces is the Archery Pavilion (Jianting). Jianting’s spacious interior was used for archery and martial arts practice, and hosted military examinations.
Weapons and armor of the Eight Banners army were displayed inside Jianting.
Saddle
Continuing south, east of Xiehe Gate, is the Forbidden City’s most tranquil area. The Wenhua Dian complex is hidden behind trees. The two main buildings are Wenhua Dian (Hall of Literary Glory) and Wenyuan Ge (Hall of Literary Profundity).
Looking back at Xiehe Gate
The tree-lined path east of Xiehe Gate
After the Three Great Halls burned down, Wenhua Dian temporarily served as the emperor’s office. After their reconstruction, it became the crown prince’s office. Therefore, the roof couldn’t use yellow glazed tiles and was downgraded to green. Emperor Jiajing later converted Wenhua Dian for his own use, hence the yellow roof today.
Wenhua Dian hosted “Jingyan” (Classics Mat lectures), where Grand Scholars taught the emperor Confucian classics, shaping his worldview. This was crucial for young emperors. Zhang Juzheng taught young Wanli, and Weng Tonghe taught young Guangxu here.
For Guangxu’s first lesson, Weng Tonghe taught calligraphy (“Tianxia Taiping, Zhengda Guangming” - Peace under Heaven, Justice and Honor). Guangxu got bored, so Weng switched to storytelling, using Zhang Juzheng’s “Dijian Tushuo” (Illustrated Mirror for Emperors). Guangxu’s interest waned. Weng then made him read aloud, repeatedly. Guangxu refused. Weng criticized him harshly, and Guangxu walked out. Scolded by Cixi, he returned. As he grew older, Guangxu became more cooperative and respected his teacher, consulting him on important decisions.
Guangxu: Pfft~ I’m still a baby.
East of Wenhua Dian is Chuanxin Dian (Hall of Passing on the Mind), enshrining figures like Fuxi, Nuwa, Shennong, Xuanyuan, Yao, Shun, Yu, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius. This building appeared during the Qing Dynasty, demonstrating its acceptance of Han culture.
To the north, Wenyuan Ge looks ancient. It was the Forbidden City’s imperial library, once holding important classics like the Siku Quanshu (Complete Library in Four Sections).
Day 2: Inner Court - East and West
Inner Court - East Side
After entering the Meridian Gate, we headed straight for Huangji Dian, a “city within a city” known as the Inner Court’s Outer Eastern Road. The Nine Dragon Screen stands before the courtyard gate.
Huangji Gate, facing the Nine Dragon Screen
The courtyard mirrors the Forbidden City’s central axis. Qianlong built this garden for his retirement. He abdicated after 60 years on the throne, becoming Emperor Emeritus, honoring his promise not to exceed Kangxi’s 61-year reign.
Qianlong: Buy low, sell high, and quit while you’re ahead~
The dragon throne in Huangji Dian. Qianlong’s retirement certainly didn’t cramp his style. This photo practically has its own soundtrack – you can almost hear the theme song of “The Qianlong Dynasty”! Ah, Adam Cheng!
Huangji Dian’s courtyard now houses the Palace Museum’s Treasure Gallery. I’m no expert, but these lavish artworks were instantly captivating.
8 jade artifacts
8 gold artifacts
Behind the courtyard lies the rest and recreation area. Changyin Ge (Pavilion of Pleasant Sounds), the Forbidden City’s largest theater, stands out. It has three levels, with Qianlong watching performances from the opposing Yue Shi Lou (Tower for Viewing). Actors used vertical passages to move between levels, appearing from below or descending from above.
Leshou Tang (Hall of Joyful Longevity), once Cixi’s residence, has a subdued, aged feel compared to the vibrant Inner Court’s Three Palaces.
The walls display calligraphy and paintings gifted by ministers, reflecting her power. She also resided in a Leshou Tang at the Summer Palace.
At the backyard’s north end is a well. Nobody dared drink Forbidden City well water. During Yongle Emperor’s reign, bored eunuchs and palace maids sometimes formed unofficial couples. Disgusted by seeing one such couple, Yongle ordered the execution of all paired eunuchs and maids, throwing them into the wells. The number of bodies in the Forbidden City’s wells remains unknown.
Zhu Di: Bro, it’s fine! Drink up!
Consort Zhen, Guangxu’s favorite, famously died in a well. Cixi arranged Guangxu’s marriage to Empress Longyu, but Guangxu disliked her, finding her plain and unremarkable. He favored the lively and intelligent Consort Zhen. She embraced Western ideas and supported Guangxu’s reforms, angering Cixi. When the Eight-Nation Alliance invaded, Cixi fled, ordering Consort Zhen thrown into the well behind Huangji Dian before leaving. The well was renamed Zhenfei Jing (Consort Zhen Well). Guangxu was reportedly never the same, withdrawing from the world.
Leaving the Inner Court’s Outer Eastern Road, we returned to Shenwumen (Gate of Divine Prowess). We climbed the Forbidden City wall and walked the eastern section. Taihe Dian (Hall of Supreme Harmony) clearly stands as the tallest building, its roof style distinctly superior. Most lower buildings feature hip roofs with small vertical gables.
Several views on the city wall, the building in the picture is not Taihe Dian
Northeast Corner Tower
We also photographed a small courtyard in a restricted area, resembling the workshop from the documentary “Masters in Forbidden City.” My wife and I agreed it was likely the same place.
Forbidden City - West Side
After descending, we passed Wenhua Dian and crossed Taihemen Square to reach Wuying Dian (Hall of Military Eminence).
Taihemen Square
Despite the Forbidden City’s “literature on the left, military on the right” design, Wuying Dian primarily served literary purposes. Except for the Ming-Qing transition, when Li Zicheng and Dorgon handled affairs here, it mostly functioned as the royal publishing house.
South of Wuying Dian lies Jiyongchu (literally “Exciting Bucket Place”), the ancient fire brigade’s location. The term “fire brigade” existed during the Guangxu period. They used a syringe-like device called a “jitong” (exciting bucket) to spray water several meters. Wuying Dian’s fire brigade was the earliest dedicated firefighting organization, a precursor to modern fire brigades.
Jitong
Leaving Wuying Dian, we bypassed the Three Great Halls to reach Cining Gong (Palace of Compassion and Tranquility), the residence of empress dowagers and imperial concubines – much grander than the concubines’ quarters. A Buddhist hall stood behind Cining Gong, reflecting the empress dowagers’ faith.
The second courtyard of Cining Gong
The western building of the second courtyard of Cining Gong
South of Cining Gate is a long, narrow garden, almost as large as the Imperial Garden, but less refined and dynamic, feeling stiff and monotonous – more like a park for seniors than a garden.
Empress Dowager: Stay fit, don’t give me any of that fancy stuff.
No direct path connects Cining Gong to the Six Western Palaces; we detoured past Yangxin Dian (Hall of Mental Cultivation), which was closed for renovation. We did see the Grand Council (Junjichu) in front. Kangxi, a dedicated scholar, established Nan Shufang (South Study) near Yangxin Dian to discuss military affairs, rituals, calligraphy, painting, literature, and even mathematics. During Yongzheng’s reign, the emperor moved to Yangxin Dian and established the Grand Council, diminishing Nan Shufang’s role.
Kangxi: You can’t even begin to imagine the life of a top student.
We didn’t thoroughly explore the Inner Court’s Outer Western Road and the Six Western Palaces due to closing time and our aching feet. Over 60,000 steps in two days is astronomical for two homebodies.
Day 3: Prince Gong’s Mansion, Temple of Confucius, and Imperial College
Prince Gong’s Mansion is significant. Guides and apps claim it witnessed the Qing Dynasty’s rise and fall—half its history.
Residential Area
As a former prince’s residence, it was built to a lower standard than the imperial palace. It uses green glazed tiles, but the courtyard layout mirrors the Forbidden City’s central axis.
Yin’an Hall, at the center, is less grand than palace buildings, but its name is significant. A prince’s main hall usually wasn’t named, just called “main hall.” So, genuine mansions typically lack plaques. Yin’an Hall, also called Yinluan Hall, rivals the Hall of Supreme Harmony (Jinluan Hall), reflecting Prince Gong Yixin’s peak power.
Front of Yin’an Hall
It was crowded, so I photographed it from the side, revealing Yin’an Hall’s architectural style and delicate gable decoration. Regulations allowed princes’ residences green glazed tiles and hip-and-gable roofs for main gates, halls, and sleeping halls. Officials were restricted to gray-black tiles and couldn’t use hip-and-gable roofs. Thus, Heshen, regardless of his power, couldn’t use this architecture.
West gable wall of Yin’an Hall
Yin’an Hall, destroyed by fire in the early Republic, was rebuilt in 2008, making it quite new. Liang Sicheng aided its restoration. The repair team initially only had a floor plan, lacking details, until they found Liang’s detailed records. He’d documented the mansion while participating in renovations when it served as Fu Jen Catholic University’s campus.
The residential area has three sections: east, middle, and west. In Heshen’s time, the middle section was the main hall, used for major events. The east housed Princess Gurun Hexiao, Heshen’s daughter-in-law, favored by Emperor Qianlong, who married her to Heshen’s son, Fengshen Yinde. The west was Heshen’s residence.
North of the west section is Xijinzhai. During Prince Gong Yixin’s time, it held Lu Ji’s famous Jin Dynasty calligraphy, “Pingfu Tie.”
“Pingfu Tie,” I’m no calligraphy expert
“Xi” in Xijinzhai derives from “Ci,” meaning bestowed treasures. “Jin” refers to the Jin Dynasty masterpiece. The west side hall, Er’erzhai, implies that compared to “Pingfu Tie,” these buildings and treasures are insignificant!
Yixin: My precious!
Xijinzhai, though remote, is the mansion’s most luxurious building. Heshen called it Jialetang. Its exterior is plain, but the interior is stunning. Heshen used designs exceeding his rank, making his residence grander than Princess Gurun Hexiao’s. For instance, golden nanmu pillars, reserved for the emperor, became a major crime during his house raid.
A long, two-story building, Houzhao Building, separates the residence and garden. Houzhao rooms are at the back of traditional siheyuan courtyards, serving as houses and the back wall. A multi-story Houzhao room is a Houzhao Building.
The secret of this Houzhao Building is on its north side. From the garden, each second-floor window has unique shapes and carvings.
This was Heshen’s personal indexing system. Shapes represented treasure types. Walking under the eaves, he’d know what was hidden behind each room by the window. He reportedly often strolled there with a cryptic smile.
Heshen: My precious! × N
Qianlong tolerated Heshen’s greed because he saw him as capable and loyal. Compared to ambitious past ministers, greed seemed minor. Heshen, a miser who hoarded wealth, served as Qianlong’s piggy bank. Jiaqing broke it open immediately after Qianlong’s death.
Garden Area
Three paths lead from the residence to the garden. The middle one goes through the Western Gate, built during Prince Gong Yixin’s time. It’s said to be one of only three Western-style gates in Beijing then, and the garden’s only Western-style structure.
The garden’s theme is fortune (福, fu). A bat pond lies at the Western Gate’s entrance, a bat hall at the northern end, and bat patterns adorn many buildings. The garden also holds a stele with Kangxi’s “fu” character, written for Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang and later given to Heshen by Qianlong.
The garden’s lake and bat pond connect to Shichahai, a privilege reserved for princes. Ministers’ ponds couldn’t connect externally. East of the bat pond is Qinqiu Pavilion, built by Yixin for his favorite concubine. Its floor has a winding channel for a “floating cup” game, a Liubei Pavilion. It was my first time seeing a real “Qu Shui Liu Shang.”
The garden’s theater is unique, being China’s only fully indoor one. Its beams and pillars are painted with wisteria, appearing somewhat odd now. Yixin prepared it for Cixi, who always watched operas outdoors. He mimicked the outdoor setting inside to cater to her habits.
South of the lake, on the west side, is Miaoxiang Pavilion, oddly shaped. After Prince Gong helped Cixi gain power, she sidelined him. He built this pavilion, resembling her ceremonial hat, to vent his anger, occasionally stepping on it.
Cixi: Why the sudden headaches?
In the southwest corner is a small mountain god temple, worshipping hedgehogs, weasels, foxes, and snakes—common animals then revered as gods. Nearby is a small Dragon King temple. Heshen, advised by a feng shui master that this spot was the garden’s water level and dragon’s location, built it for worship.
Temple of Confucius
We left Prince Gong’s Mansion for the Temple of Confucius and the Imperial College, adjacent attractions with a single ticket.
I examined the door studs of Dacheng Gate at the Temple of Confucius. Originally for fixing, preventing wood warping, they became linked to status in the Qing Dynasty. Their shape and number were restricted; commoners couldn’t use them freely. Odd numbers are yang, even numbers yin. Nine, the largest yang number, represents imperial authority (e.g., Nine-Five Supremacy, Nine-Dragon Wall). Doors directly linked to the emperor used 9 rows and 9 columns of studs (81 total).
Looking back at my Forbidden City photos, a missing stud (lower left) shows they penetrate the door panel. This photo shows Xihe Gate, leading to Wuying Hall. Though a side gate, it maintains the highest standard.
Xihe Gate of the Forbidden City, 81 door studs
Dacheng Gate’s studs are identical. Dacheng Hall also reflects the highest architectural standards. The Temple of Confucius’s last major Qing renovation was during the Guangxu period, demonstrating the regime’s acceptance of Confucian culture.
Dacheng Gate of the Temple of Confucius, 81 door studs
The grandeur of Dacheng Hall
Dacheng Hall displays musical instruments like chime bells and stones. Confucianism emphasizes rituals and music, often mentioned together as “Li Beng Yue Huai” (collapse of rituals and music). Though often considered a whole, they are literally two distinct, yet inseparable, concepts in Confucianism.
This set of bronze chime bells is remarkably well-preserved
Chime stones
Imperial College
The adjacent Imperial College, the highest Ming and Qing Dynasty institution of learning, predates the Forbidden City, having been built in the Yuan Dynasty. The glazed archway behind Taixue Gate, China’s only archway dedicated to education, is impressive. Its four pillars represent merit, fame, profit, and wealth. The building features lotus nail carvings, symbolizing “success in successive examinations.”
Glazed archway, excluding the side pillars
Piyong Hall, at the Imperial College’s center, is the world’s only building dedicated to imperial lectures. After Emperor Qianlong, each new emperor lectured here, emphasizing education.
Inside Piyong Hall
Emperor: Listen, and you’ll pass! DM for the PPT.
About to enter Piyong, I was sidetracked by an interesting exhibition on the imperial examination system’s history.
The Imperial Examination System
The ancient talent selection system evolved. “Ju Xiaolian,” often heard in ancient texts, was an assessment in the Han Dynasty’s inspection system. Compared to other systems, the imperial examination better promoted social mobility, a significant improvement.
In the Han Dynasty, special carriages fetched candidates for capital positions. This reminded me of “Gongche Shangshu” (Petition by Scholars), realizing “Gongche” refers to that group of intellectuals.
The Tang Dynasty saw the imperial examination develop, with subdivisions for literature, science, medicine, and martial arts. It even accepted foreigners as officials.
The Song Dynasty pioneered the palace examination and had a relatively complete anti-cheating system. Candidates’ papers were rewritten, and names sealed before being given to examiners, preventing favoritism. Examiners graded papers on a five-level scale: excellent, good, medium, poor, and inferior.
By the Yuan, Ming, and Qing Dynasties, only the Jinshi remained. As the system matured, social mobility slowed. Early Qing saw a higher proportion of officials’ children passing the Jinshi exam than commoners. Kangxi introduced separate papers, with quotas for officials and commoners.
I only knew of the provincial, metropolitan, and palace examinations. But commoners actually faced six stages: child, provincial, metropolitan, palace, court, and Shuguan examinations. The child examination was a qualification. The provincial examination was held in the province, supervised by central officials. Those who passed were Juren; the top scorer was Jieyuan. The metropolitan examination was in Beijing, at the Gongyuan outside the Forbidden City. The top scorer was Huiyuan.
The palace examination tested culture and calligraphy. The Guangge style, a neat small regular script, was used. During a Qianlong-era palace examination, Liu Fenggao kept writing until dark, refusing to hand in his paper. The Minister of Rites, seeing his excellent calligraphy, ordered candles for him. He placed third. Qianlong, finding Liu short and unattractive, tested him with a couplet: “East Qiming, West Chang庚, South Ji North Dou, I am the star-picking hand.” Liu instantly replied: “Spring peony, summer peony, autumn chrysanthemum, winter plum, I am the Tanhualang.”
He looks quite normal in the portrait!
Besides culture and calligraphy, names could change fates. During a Jiajing-era palace examination, two top candidates were Qin Minglei and Wu Qing. Wu Qing was stronger, but Jiajing disliked the name. During a drought, Minglei (sounding like thunder, implying rain) was favored, making him Zhuangyuan. Wu Qing placed third. A limerick satirized this: “Wuqing (heartless) candidate, heartless emperor, Minglei picked up the bargain.”
Only three placed in the top three of the palace examination; the numbers for second and third ranks varied. Different levels had different career prospects. Stopping at the palace examination often meant local assignment, hindering promotion. To get closer to the center, most Jinshi took the Hanlin Academy examination, a graduate school. 90% of Ming Dynasty Grand Secretaries came from the Hanlin Academy, a career fast track. The entrance exam was the court examination. Admitted Jinshi were Shujishi; the top three were exempt.
The Hanlin Academy’s graduation examination was the Shuguan examination. It divided Shujishi into three groups. The first stayed, doing compilation and potentially teaching princes, with fast promotion. Some of the second stayed, others went to the six ministries. The third group returned to the official circle, awaiting employment.
Admission ticket
Imperial examination paper
Leaving the exhibition, it was too late to explore the Imperial College further. The day’s itinerary concluded.
Day 4: Summer Palace
The Summer Palace is more relaxed than the previous days. The historical events here aren’t as dense as at the Forbidden City and Prince Gong’s Mansion; it’s primarily for sightseeing. A perfect, relaxing end to the trip.
I felt a sense of familiarity arriving at the Summer Palace. Tourists from Jiangsu and Zhejiang, like myself, feel right at home. Qianlong, with his Jiangnan obsession, didn’t find six trips to Jiangnan enough. He recreated it at the Summer Palace (then Qingyi Garden). Suzhou Street mimics a Jiangnan water town, Xiequ Garden replicates a Jiangnan garden, and Kunming Lake is a stand-in for Hangzhou’s West Lake.
Cixi adored Suzhou Street. She’d have palace maids and eunuchs play the roles of residents, merchants, and tourists, simulating a real water town.
Palace maids & eunuchs: The Truman Show, take 76, everyone ready, Action!
Longevity Hill
I entered from the North Palace Gate, behind Longevity Hill. Passing Suzhou Street, you’re at the mountain’s peak: the Four Great Regions, a Tibetan Buddhist structure.
Looking up at the Four Great Regions from the north side
It’s unimpressive from the back. But circling to Kunming Lake’s front and re-climbing Longevity Hill, the building’s grandeur emerges. While not as grand as the Forbidden City, it rises with the mountain, creating a natural solemnity.
Paiyun Hall, where Cixi celebrated her birthdays, sits at the mountain’s foot. Emperor Guangxu had to wait in a side hall. Most Qing rulers followed Tibetan Buddhism. Dehui Hall, behind Paiyun Hall, bridges secular and religious authority. Beyond it lies the Buddhist realm.
Buddha: Need a visa? Your human world’s so casual?
Looking up at Dehui Hall and Foxiang Pavilion from Paiyun Hall
The steps are narrow, cramped. Looking up at Foxiang Pavilion from them is striking – the size contrast is dramatic. Turning, you get a panoramic view of Kunming Lake.
Ascending, you see the repeating Buddha statues in Zhongxiangjie and Zhihuihai – a powerful visual. The lower statues’ heads were looted by the Eight-Nation Alliance; the current ones are restorations, hence their new appearance.
Looking up at Zhongxiangjie
Buddha statues on the wall of Zhihuihai
The Four Great Regions, blending imperial and Tibetan Buddhist styles, crowns the peak. Climbing from the front, it evokes the Potala Palace. For a moment, I felt transported to Lhasa.
Descending east, I reached Kunming Lake. Looking back at Longevity Hill, the climb is clearly visible, undeniably solemn and majestic.
Hall of Benevolence and Longevity (RenShouDian) and Grand Theater (DeHeYuan)
Besides the Forbidden City, the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity impressed me most. Cixi, during her regency, favored the Summer Palace. This hall, like the Forbidden City’s Hall of Supreme Harmony, hosted ceremonies and foreign envoys.
Two dragons and two phoenixes flank a bronze qilin. Unusually, the phoenixes are central, a testament to Cixi’s power. The area lacks the Hall of Supreme Harmony’s masculine energy (with its bronze lions), but pines, stones, and bronze ding vessels lend it an air of elder statesmanship.
Elder Statesman: No dog head? Seriously?
Cixi loved opera. My wife says she’d be a homebody today, binge-watching shows.
North of the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity is the Deheyuan Grand Theater. It blows the Forbidden City’s Hall of Changyinge (Sound of Smooth Music) out of the water. Similar style, but vastly upgraded.
The screen wall of the Deheyuan courtyard, sunlight perfectly illuminating the crape myrtle tree.
The Grand Theater of Deheyuan
A corner of the Grand Theater
Cixi didn’t just watch; she made officials join. The Hall of Yile (YiLeDian), opposite Deheyuan, was her viewing platform; the side corridors were for officials. Cixi saw it as a treat, but they didn’t. With no restrooms, officials needing relief had to bribe eunuchs to open a gate, escape via ladder, and follow a small path to the toilet – the “Happy Little Path.”
The side corridors served as officials’ boxes.
Official: I’m sneaking out. If the Old Buddha calls, say I’m here.
Deheyuan has three courtyards. Behind the Hall of Yile is another, used for resting during intermissions.
Garden of Harmonious Interests (XieQuYuan)
The Summer Palace is vast. Coming from Hangzhou, I skipped Kunming Lake’s large expanse. But I discovered a hidden gem: the Garden of Harmonious Interests, in the northeast corner.
It’s a delicate Jiangnan-style garden, a garden within a garden. The architecture, with single-eave, roll-shed, and hip-and-gable roofs, is imperial. This blend of elegance and imperial grandeur is rare in Jiangnan, and truly striking.
The Knowing-Fish Bridge (ZhiYuQiao) is the highlight. It’s low, ideal for fish-watching. Qianlong named it after Zhuangzi and Huizi’s philosophical “debate”: “You’re not a fish; how do you know their joy?”
Qianlong: I just know, alright? Keep it up!
A pond corner, viewed from the Knowing-Fish Bridge
Beautiful Corners
Beyond these, the Summer Palace has secluded, beautiful corners, rarely seen by tourists.
East of Longevity Hill is the Multi-Treasure Glazed Pagoda (DuoBaoLiuLiTa). Its surface, covered in Buddha statues, echoes Longevity Hill’s Hall of the Sea of Wisdom (ZhiHuiHai). Though closed, you can walk around it, getting quite close.
Northeast of the pagoda is the isolated Hall of Tanning (DanNingTang). The Summer Palace’s Rear Lake, more a narrow river, lies north of it. The view south from the north bank offers a unique, tranquil beauty.
A nearby bridge is also distinctive, perfect for photos.
And, as evening approached, the sky filled with cirrus and cirrocumulus clouds – stunning weather!
Beijing Impressions
Accommodation
I stayed in Beijing for four days and five nights. The first three nights were at an Airbnb near Zhangzizhong Road, close to Nanluoguxiang. The room was tiny but cozy, clean, and well-connected. Finding a gem like that takes luck.
You could even glimpse a siheyuan (courtyard house) from the window.
The last two nights were a total bust. Another Airbnb, but it was a bait-and-switch – nothing like the pictures. Dirty and awful. The location was also off, not where it was pinned on the map, and you needed a taxi to reach the subway.
Two takeaways about lodging:
Prioritize location near transit. In cities with solid subway systems, rely on public transport. No need to switch places mid-trip.
If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Rent is market-driven; don’t get your hopes up.
Food
I mostly ate lunch at the sights, grabbing bread to save time. I only got to sample local food in the evenings.
The first night’s dinner sticks with me. After exiting the Forbidden City’s Shenwu Gate, I went west around Jingshan Park, then north into Gongjian Hutong. Deep in the hutong, there’s a restaurant in an old imperial ice cellar. The original ice storage is still there.
Ice was a royal commodity in the Ming and Qing dynasties. Each winter, ice cutters harvested blocks from lakes, hauling them to ice cellars across Beijing. The Ministry of Works oversaw it. Ice cutting was brutal, backbreaking work. It was hereditary; no quitting. The 1.5 chi square blocks fit perfectly into ice chests. Stored for half a year, the ice came out for summer use. It was even a prestigious gift, “awarding ice” to officials.
Ice (bing) is a loaded word, sounding like “soldier” in Chinese. This partially explains the emperor’s monopoly. When Zhu Di plotted to overthrow Emperor Jianwen, he consulted the monk Yao Guangxiao (Dao Yan). Zhu Di, instead of stating his intentions directly, offered the first line of a couplet: “When the sky is cold and the earth is frozen, water without a single dot cannot become ice (bing).” Yao Guangxiao, catching his drift, replied: “When the country is in chaos and the people are worried, who will be the leader if the king (wang) does not step forward?”
Regarding local specialties, Peking duck and copper charcoal hot pot are decent. But you can find them everywhere now, just as authentic, so I skipped them. I had dinner with classmates twice – one Western, one Xinjiang. I didn’t really get into the traditional Beijing snacks: baodu (boiled tripe), luzhu (stewed pork offal), chaogan (stir-fried liver)… Beijing cuisine features a lot of offal. I’m not a fan, and to me, these dishes don’t quite mask the gamey flavor.
Chicken broth radish, baodu, and sesame sauce for baodu at the Imperial Ice Cellar Restaurant
Yaoji Chaogan at the foot of the Drum Tower, from top left to
bottom right: almond tofu, luzhu, garlic vinegar sauce for luzhu, zhajiangmian (noodles with savory soybean paste), chaogan*
I did some digging, and many claim Beijingers were poor in the late Qing Dynasty, resorting to scraps. I think it’s plausible the other way around – people actively chose these ingredients. Offal was cheap in Beijing, dirt cheap!
Due to the well-off princes and nobles, Beijing’s daily livestock consumption was staggering. The meat was used, ice cellars were royal-only, and offal, hard to preserve or transport, flooded the market. Offal prices were likely much lower than elsewhere.
I also suspect that, due to royal protocol, meat demand in Beijing during the Ming and Qing was more rigid. Even as the economy declined, meat consumption likely stayed high. So, as the late Qing economy worsened, offal became even cheaper, establishing it as a regional specialty.
Then there’s douzhi’er (fermented mung bean milk). I got a cup near Prince Gong’s Mansion. It’s made from fermented mung beans, which are mostly sugar and protein. The fermented taste is…unique. The shop owner was funny. He poured a tiny disposable cup. My wife asked, “That’s it?” He said, “Finish it, and I’ll give you a refill.” She took one sip, tossed it, and said it reeked of rotten eggs.
Owner: Hey! Leaving so soon? No refill?
Besides traditional snacks, I found a killer dessert shop in Jianchang Hutong near Guozijian.
Anecdotes
I remember arriving in Beijing; hailing a taxi at the station was impossible. I took a shuttle bus further out to grab one. The driver’s Beijing accent was a real pick-me-up.
Take the shuttle bus one stop, and it’s easy to get a cab.
It was like that the whole trip. Ride-hailing drivers everywhere have their groups, chatting on voice messages at red lights. Beijing drivers have a totally different style. The whole group was hyping up a driver who’d hit his daily bonus and was calling it quits – like a xiangsheng (crosstalk) routine.
“Damn! You’re killing it.”
“Missed one fare, I’m toast.”
At a light, I saw something heartwarming. An old man pedaled a canopied tricycle across the road. It was uphill; he was struggling. His wife, presumably, sat in the back. She stretched out her legs, helping him pedal. Once they crested the hill, she sat back.
It reminded me of… interacting forces!
On my last night, my classmate treated me to Xinjiang food. The main dish was a huge plate of jiaomaji (chicken with numbing peppers) – a massive portion.
My classmate said it’s nothing compared to Northeastern cuisine. She’d been there on business: “The guobaorou (sweet and sour pork) is this big,” she said, gesturing. For something refined, she goes for Japanese. Japanese food in Northeast China is localized – still sushi, hand rolls, sashimi, but double the size.
Mind blown! Big eaters who love Japanese food, head to Northeast China – you’ll be stuffed!
My classmate lives in Xizhimen, supposedly the “center of the universe” (laughs). I also visited Sanlitun, and compared to that, Xizhimen feels older, not so “center of the universe.” The key is the prestigious schools and diverse population, supporting a varied commercial scene.
Sanlitun Taikoo Li
Near Xizhimen Subway Station
My classmate broke it down: different times for students hanging out, European and American students emerging, bar-hopping crowds, and often, drunk Japanese and Koreans on the streets. And after that…
I was thinking, the capital’s nightlife is so sophisticated, what could be next?
Then, it’s the IT worker exodus. The line of overtime slaves for the subway stretches from inside the station to the intersection.
……
……
Brutal!
Epilogue
Back in Hangzhou, I knew I’d return to Beijing. Its historical sites, hutongs, nature, museums, and exhibitions are endless; you’ll always discover something new. I was too ambitious this time, a bit rushed.
I also realized I don’t appreciate my own city enough. I’ve become complacent. I need to shift my perspective and revisit Hangzhou as a tourist, to truly understand my home.
