（Dece
mber 5－
Beijing Chinese Language and Culture College
2/2015 Silk Road Stories, Cosmetic Cures, Peking Pigskin, and Architecture Absurdity
T
he Silk Road has functioned as a trade route and a gateway for all manner of ideas and religions since before recorded history. Today, it may have lost much of its luster, but trains and trucks continue to carry electronics and raw materials on a road that once carried Jesuits and silk. In the thousands of years of history held in the footsteps along the Silk Road, there are millions of stories. We bring you three of them (see page 30). The first is from the Tang Dynasty (618 – 907), following a grizzled Chinese general to the gates of Central Asia, where he fights a brutal battle to maintain his country’s most important trade route. The second tale follows a humble servant, an attendant to the Portuguese Jesuit Benedict Goës, as the two travel in search of a mythical Christian kingdom hidden in Cathay. Finally, we take a look at a humble truck driver who follows the twists and turns of the modern Silk Road through China and beyond—a fresh look at a trade route that has weathered millennia. Next, we set our sights on the high-rises and architecture of the new and improved Middle Kingdom. It wasn’t too long ago that the government tried to put the kibosh on weird architecture in China, with odd designs cluttering the skylines of every major city, but there seems to be no stopping the constant construction of these bizarre buildings. David Dawson takes a look at why these buildings persist and what makes China such a playground of architectural ambition in “Boomtown Blues” (see page 38). From there, we move from skyscrapers to the bedroom mirror, as Ginger Huang studies modern trends in plastic surgery. The boom in plastic surgery in recent years has provided some very strange phenomena, with beauty taking on a more tangible meaning than ever before and serious surgery becoming extremely common. There’s more at work here than just vanity, and “Beneath Skin-Deep” (see page 50) tries to understand the specifics of this strange contemporary cosmetic conundrum. Also, you may not have realized, but China is making an attempt at professional American football leagues. A great deal of money has been put into promoting the all-American sport in the Middle Kingdom, and while it’s not yet paying dividends, it’s certainly an interesting look at how a sport gets off the ground in China. So, follow the likes of the Shanghai Nighthawks and the Chongqing Dockers to learn how China is embracing this new sport in “Pigskin in Peking” (see page 44). Besides all that, we have the usual array of art, news, history, fiction, and photography for your enjoyment. Head on over to Dragon’s Digest (see page 12) for some rather innovative, ancient fiction in “Lord of Medicine” from author Zeng Jianhui, and if you’re in the mood for some art, check out artists Liu Jiahua and Yang Fudong in our Gallery (see page 58) section. We also have some very special photography from Yang Tianxin, featuring the beautiful world of beekeeping in Kaleidoscope (see page 18). If you didn’t get enough history in our cover story, check out Time Machine (see page 74), where we look at the serendipitous discovery (and theft) of the oldest printed book in the world. On the language front, learn how to visit a Chinese hospital in Social Chinese (see page 76), study the intricacies of the “silk” character in On the Character (see page 92), and get acquainted with some new faces in Street Talk (see page 11). The worst of winter is over and spring is finally here. So, while you’re enjoying the warm weather and hopefully the release of the icy smog, remember to check out our website now and again at theworldofchinese.com and keep an eye out for our digital supplements for your iPhone or iPad in China Dispatch. So, from all of us here at TWOC, enjoy the weather while it lasts and stay safe.
Managing Editor Tyler Roney Issue 2 /2015
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2/2015 BENEATH SKIN-DEEP
看脸的世界，咋“整”？
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China’s boom in plastic surgery in recent years has had some severe consequences; we take a look at this modern obsession with medicallyassisted beauty and the toll it is taking on those searching for solace in surgery
BLUES 38 BOOMTOWN 后奇葩建筑时代 We’ve all been told that “weird buildings” have to go, but there’s far more to China’s odd architecture landscape than meets the eye. We’re told that the halcyon days of China’s architecture boom are over, but there may be some life in the old girl yet.
COVER STORY
30 THE SILK ROAD ENDURES 丝绸之路：一个脚印一个故事
Issue 2 /2015
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PIGSKIN IN PEKING 橄榄球在中国
You would be hardpressed to think of a sport more North American than American football, but, believe it or not, there is a burgeoning professional league of players and teams right here in China. And, what’s more, it looks like it’s catching on.
A warlike general from the Tang Dynasty, the servant of a Jesuit priest looking for a lost Christian kingdom in Cathay, and a simple truck driver from Xinjiang making a life from the ancient route to the West—every footstep on the Silk Road leaves a story
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GALLERY
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NOSTALGIA AND THE CAMERA 杨福东：怀旧与新女性 Blending Eastern and Western cinematography with a decidedly feminine focus, Yang Fudong explores nostalgic themes of old Shanghai by bringing influences from his painting background to the foreground of his cinematic works
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DRAGON’S DIGEST
LORD OF MEDICINE 《药王》 Zeng Jianhui tells a gripping tale of two ancient doctors locked in an intense rivalry. As they rush to avert plagues and save lives, each is also desperate to prove they deserve the title of Lord of Medicine.
THE BEES OF BANLIAO 人与蜂的和谐：板寮村野蜂蜜
There’s nothing sweeter than honey, and in Banliao they make it the old-fashioned way. Take a peek at how these villagers have been making honey for centuries; be quick, this tradition might not last for long.
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Scientists are committing suicide, jaded detectives are baffled, and readers are enthralled as extraterrestrial influence prompts the decay of society, hope, and the very laws of physics in a science fiction work taking China by storm
如何鉴定文艺青年
BOOKMARK THREE-BODY BARNBURNER
GROUP THINK ON THE TRAIL OF THE 中国科幻小说的巅峰之作《三体》 CHINESE HIPSTER
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SOCIAL CHINESE HOSPITAL LABYRINTH CCTVTHE NEWSPEAK CCTV在说什么？ 医院生存必备汉语
Get to Wegrips all get with under the the weather from time propaganda to time, but of navigating Love ‘em, hate ‘em, or try your best to pandering the maze state-media of Chinese news hospital ignore them, China has hipsters too, the China procedures that never can seems be a nightmare. but naturally, they come in a particular program to end Take a look at this little guide and Chinese flavor. Wenyi qingnian can hopefully it’ll help you get in and be a complimentary term or a slur, out quickly. depending on who you ask, so find out how to spot them.
1 EDITOR’S LETTER 卷首语
6 MISHMASH 多棱镜
8 WEIBO WHACK 微亦足道
11 STREET TALK 街头俚语
24 MADE IN CHINA 中国制造
56 SAVING CHINA 美丽中国
72 NERD NEWS 宅资讯
74 TIME MACHINE
Photographs
by
Yang Tianxin (honeycomb)
and
K atharin Tai (monastery)
时光机
84 CHI LE MA 吃了吗
62 ON THE ROAD
DONNING THE YELLOW HAT 青海：格鲁派寺院之旅
It was over 150 years ago that two French Catholic missionaries endured the harsh landscapes around Xining in western China’s Qinghai Province, probing new forms of enlightenment. Katharin Tai traces their path to the Gelug Buddhist sect.
80 ZOETROPE THE TAKING OF TIGER MOUNTAIN 《智取威虎山》 A modern rehash of old Chinese Communist propaganda tells the tale of soldiers locked in a wintery struggle to seize a mountain fortress against all odds
Issue 2 /2015
90 PIONEER 对话先锋
92 ON THE CHARACTER 魅力汉字
94 AGONY AYI 麻烦阿姨
96 COMICS 酷漫 For all you subscribers out there, we've changed our bank here at TWOC. Please send your future subscription payments to Beijing Municipal Branch, Industrial and Commercial Bank of China, Account Number: 0200 0960 1900 0061 081. Thanks for subscribing!
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MISHMASH
TOO HOT FOR TV The TV drama Saga of Wu Zetian (《武媚娘传奇》), featuring the life of China’s only empress, has been jokingly renamed “Saga of Bighead Wu”, thanks to SAPPRFT, formerly known as SARFT. Only a week after its debut in late December, 2014, this drama was axed by the TV station for a “technical reason”. Viewers suspected that the revealing low-cut tops on the female characters might have been the trigger. Lo-and-behold, the suspicion was proven true when the drama came back on
air in 2015. After re-editing, viewers could only see close-ups of the characters’ faces and everything below their necks had been edited out. Some supporters say that it’s better to see the big heads rather than the “squeezed breasts”—even though it doesn’t exactly help with the boring plot. Others claim the edited scenes seriously affected the composition and storyline. Though, it seems the revealing costumes were the one thing the show had going for it, considering the over-the-top headgear, dull plot, and tedious dialogue; relegating it to the bin rather than the editing desk may have been the better option. - SUN JIAHUI (孙佳慧)
CHINA GOES SKYRIM “I used to be an adventurer like you, until I took an arrow to the knee.” That quote is
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from the popular game The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, and spawned a legion of online memes. But for Mr. Wang from Changsha, the meme came to life—making him online fodder in the guise of an NPC. Wang was just hanging his clothes on his balcony when he was suddenly shot in the knee with an arrow, which went 12 centimeters into his leg. It turned out that Wang’s neighbor Mr. Liang was practicing archery nearby. Liang was 70 or 80 meters away from Wang at the time, but the arrow somehow missed the target and hit him square in his leg, leading to surgery. While the online world had a field day with this in relation to the popular RPG, no comment has been made by Liang as to whether or not he is a Bosmer Wood Elf or if he leveled up. - S.J.
MGM LOGO COMES TO LIFE Lions don’t have it particularly well in the circus (also it’s horrible and shameful and you shouldn’t go see it)—no room to run around, no pride of females, no good movies. Well, one lion in Guangxi Province had enough of this rubbish and decided to take a day out at the pictures. As the circus animals were being loaded into their cages in preparation for an upcoming performance, a staff member carelessly opened the door of the cage, and the lion rushed off to an abandoned cinema 100 meters away. Unfortunately for the lion, no film was currently playing. And, more bad luck followed when the
lion fell through the wood boards, which were unable to bear the beast’s weight, resulting in the animal getting trapped beneath the stage. Circus staff were able to catch the lion with quilts and nets. No injuries were reported, either for the lion or the circus staff members. - S.J.
HARD OUT THERE FOR A FOODIE Bad news, food lovers: Chongqing has announced a ban on smoked bacon. Sichuan made the same move earlier in the year, with the local Environmental Protection Bureau stating that it is a major cause of smog, inviting quite a bit of public ridicule. The entire industry is required to now use clean energy for the process or incur a hefty fine. Since it’s not really feasible to ask someone who makes smoked bacon for a living to shell out to meet
Issue 2 /2015
these new requirements, it’s far more likely that this street dish is going to taper off altogether. This also means that other foods are for the chopping block, such as other smoked meats and firewood chicken. Some people think this is an unnecessary casualty of the smog wars. But others say the regulations are necessary and helpful but propose compensation for operators of smoked bacon businesses. After all, the government has to do something to clear up the choking skies and not much else is working. - S.J.
wheels is one of the best. But some have been caught, in the words of American poet Chamillionaire, “ridin’ dirty”. As part of a “corruption on wheels” crackdown, the Chinese central government has impounded 3,184 official vehicles to be sold at three separate auctions. The first batch of 300 were all sold after the last hammer fell in February, and to many people’s surprise, the vehicles sold at a premium rate. A mysterious buyer and his companion bought at least 11 government vehicles at auction. When asked why, he said it was just for his collection. Before the auctions began, many stipulations were made to keep the prices up, just in case there was some unofficial inside trading. Some buyers said they were willing to pay big for that bigwig luck—also saying the cars would help them “gain face” with others. Given the prices these wheels sold for, it seems these corrupt officials did, indeed, make an unexpected contribution to the state.- S.J.
THEY SEE ME ROLLIN’, THEY HATIN’ Of all the bonuses of being a corrupt official, having some sweet
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NIGHT OWL ADVICE Up all night, work all day. Night owls and “sleep camels” (who don’t sleep enough in the week but sleep all weekend) registered on President Xi’s radar recently, when at a meeting he shared his own thoughts about dealing with the relationship between work and rest. Taking young people to task, he said they shouldn’t stay up so late. But has there ever been a country where the youth didn’t stay up late? Evidently Chinese folks would like to get more sleep, as his comments garnered plenty of likes on Weibo and quickly went viral. It wasn’t completely supported though; a lot of web users pointed out that as much as they would like to get more rest, endless work schedules and bad sleeping habits in general meant Xi would need to put “going to bed early” into the constitution. - SUN JIAHUI (孙佳慧)
冰冰喵hugofanse：我知道年轻人不包括学生， 学生 怎么可能不熬夜？好了， 趁寒假多睡觉咯！ I know that “young people” doesn’t include students. How is it possible for students to go to bed early? Fine, I will fully enjoy my sleep before the winter holiday ends!
喂好好背单词啊别看了就说你呢：有没有人和我一 样，不知道为什么，就算是没人和你聊天、微博朋 友圈都刷不出新内容、也不追任何比赛或电视剧， 最关键的是，已经困到不行了，可还是抓着手机不 睡觉？这是什么病？该怎么治？急！ Is there anybody just like me? Even if there is nobody to talk to, no updates on social media, no TV shows or sports to watch, and most importantly I am deathly tired, I still can’t drop the mobile phone and go to sleep! What kind of disease is this? How can it be cured? Hurry!
洋葱日报社：半小时前，我社接到一92年网友举 报，他在北京某广告公司上班，每天加班至深夜。 昨晚，他看到“年轻人不要老熬夜”的讲话后，立 即向老板提出拒绝加班。不料却被老板骂道，“你 算哪门子年轻人！95后才配称年轻人！” Half an hour ago, a netizen born in 1992 sent me his story. He worked until midnight every day for an advertising company in Beijing, until yesterday, when he saw Xi’s “Young people shouldn’t stay up late” speech. He immediately applied to stop working overtime. However, his boss replied, “Who says you are young? Only post-95s can be called young people!”
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EUROPEAN LEAGUES TO BLAME FOR FOOTBALL WOES?
Oh, the tragic comedy that is Chinese football. Is there a light at the end of this tunnel, or have so many floggings left this dead horse without an afterlife? The Xinhua News Agency has tried to propose some solutions, and found a convenient scapegoat, which apparently had been playing for the European Leagues all along. Xinhua claims that the European League broadcasts are the reason for the sport’s woes in China, because the high-level games reduced enthusiasm for the Chinese Super League, which has apparently affected the development of Chinese football. So, the solution to China’s football problems would be banning free access to European League broadcasting and charging audiences. Netizens, particularly long-suffering football fans, were less than impressed. - S.J.
CONFUCIAN SOLUTION?
阿木格格：跪孔子，读《道德经》，你让老子怎么想？如果不能区分祭奠与 继承，也许有一天，英语真的会从我们的课堂中消失，是进步还是倒退？
A high school in Henan Province has asked its students to kneel down in front of the statue of Confucius and read the Taoist classic, the Tao Te Ching, at five every morning. Bizarrely, the Tao Te Ching was written by Laozi, whose anti-authoritarian philosophy bears little resemblance to hierarchical Confucian values. With many students complaining about the pointlessness of this weird exercise, a heated debate exploded on Weibo. - S.J.
快乐的馒头happy：佛经里说过，做一件事要清楚目的是什么，而不要迷恋过 程。教学生学孔子文化的工作要是做不好，空走这样的形式也没有意义。
Bow down to Confucius but read Tao Te Ching; where have you put Laozi? With the difference between inheriting a legacy and paying tribute becoming blurred, maybe one day even English will disappear from our classes; should we call that progress or a step backward?
The Buddhist scriptures say that when you do something, you need to carry the final objective in your mind and never obsess over the process. If you can’t teach Confucian culture to students in an effective way, such formalities are meaningless.
奔六：孔老夫子作为中华民族传统文化的代表人物，已经享誉全世界，他的 教育理念据说也已经被全世界所尊崇。但是看到河南省这家中学，要求生活 在21世纪的现代学子们，给这位产生于2000多年前，中国奴隶社会晚期，封 建社会初始时代的所谓至圣先师下跪，背诵老子的《道德经》，还是觉得很 滑稽，也很悲哀。 As a representation of Confucian culture, Confucius’s ideas about teaching have been acknowledged widely all over the world. But, I still feel ridiculous and pathetic seeing modern students in 21st century reading the Tao Te Ching and kneeling down to this so-called saint, who was born more than 2,000 years ago, between the late slavery and early feudal eras.
作家崔成浩：中国足球上不去，是因为联赛搞得不好，搞不好的一个原因，是因为直播没人看，为什么没人看？是因 为欧洲五大联赛提供免费电视转播，他们水平太高，拉跑了观众。那么，为了中国足球能尽快上去，就应该让五大联 赛付费，不付费就不给他播，绝不能叫帝国主义的倾销阴谋得逞！ Well, it seems that the reason why Chinese football can’t develop is that our league doesn’t operate well; the reason why our league doesn’t operate well is that there is no audience; and the reason why there is no audience is that the free access to European League broadcasting drives them away. So, in order to improve Chinese football, we should make audiences pay for European League broadcasting. No pay, no broadcasting! No door for the dumping of imperialism!
忒没六儿：我觉得吧，这就好比过街天桥上 头的乞丐，认为自己贫穷的原因是对面大厦 的老板赚得太多了……把自己当个事儿没 错，但太当个事儿就不对了，没了五大联赛 的转播，我也不会去看中超啊……
In my opinion, it is just like how beggars on overpasses attribute their poverty to rich bosses in the building opposite who make too much money…It is right to take yourself seriously, but not right to be too self-centered. Even if there was no broadcasting of the European Leagues, I would still not watch the Chinese Super League…
Issue 2 /2015
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STREET TALK
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Face Facts
n China, so much depends on face, but not the cultural catchall term for honor so prevalent in Asia; no, today we’re talking about the modern mania concerning the oh-so pretty face, 脸 (li2n). A pretty countenance can save a terrible performance, a bad outfit, an annoying drama, and pretty much anything else you can imagine—all solved with the benefit of a pretty mug. Thus, in a world obsessed with appearance and vanity, many cry out: “我对这个 看脸的世界绝望了! (W6 du# zh-ge k3 li2n de sh#ji- ju9w3ng le! I can’t see any hope in such a face-judging world!)” Usually, this phrase is used in a joking manner, with a sense of self-satire, as in: “我在微博上发了一张自拍照，结果丢了一大半粉 丝! 我对这个看脸的世界绝望了! (Half of my followers left me after I posted a selfie on Weibo! I can’t see any hope in such a face-judging world!)” A decent appearance and a refined manner are part of Chinese politeness, but it’s always stressed that one should never 以貌取人 (y@ m3o q^ r9n), meaning “judge people based on appearance”. What a wonderful world it would be if anyone took that advice. However, today, many are 颜控 (y1nk7ng) or “face obsessed”, dyed in the wool 外貌党 (w3im3od2ng), or “face-judgers”, and proud of it. While 颜 and 外貌 all refer to appearance, 控 (k7ng) comes from the Japanese word con, which in turn was borrowed from the first syllable of the English word “complex”. If you say you are face obsessed, it suggests that appearance is what you value most in the world. Fans of pop stars who care little for their work or artistic merit are called 颜饭 (y1nf3n, literally, a fan of face). When it comes to romance and relationships, the face-judgers’ standard is simple: 我是个外貌党，找男友的唯一标准就是长得帅 (W6 sh#ge w3im3od2ng, zh2o n1ny6u de w9iy~ bi`ozh^n ji&sh# zh2ngde shu3i. Since I am a face-judger, the only standard for my future boyfriend is a handsome look). Also keep an eye out for another relevant phrase: 外貌协会 (w3im3o xi9hu#), meaning “appearance club”, which refers to a club consisting of face-judgers. For the not-so-pretty faces, love life is bleak in our mad, mad, mad face-judging world. For every romantic memory for high school or college sweethearts of the beautiful people, there’s a sigh from the plain looking: “只有长得好看的 人才有青春, 像我们这种人就只有上学。” (Zh@y6u zh2ngde h2ok3n de r9n c1i y6u q~ngch$n, xi3ng w6men zh- zh6ng r9n ji& zh@y6u sh3ngxu9. Only good-looking people really experienced youth, all we had was going to school). - SUN JIAHUI (孙佳慧)
Issue 2 /2015
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DRAGON'S DIGEST
LORD OF MEDICINE A story of magic and ancient healing 时运流转，谁才是真的神医？
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Illustration
by
Peng Yue
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n the early years of the Qing Dynasty (1616 – 1911), there was a genius doctor in Wuxian County of Jiangsu, named Ye Gui. He wore the courtesy name “Tianshi”, or “heaven man”, because every single patient he treated recovered promptly. People at the time lauded him as the incarnation of the “Holy Remedy Star”, the god in charge of healing. Ye came from a family of doctors who migrated from their hometown in Shexian County, Huizhou during the last years of the Ming Dynasty (1368 – 1644) to escape war and chaos. Ye Tianshi represented the third generation of the family. His grandfather, Ye Shi, and his father, Ye Zhaocai, were both well-known in the county but Ye Tianshi’s fame far exceeded theirs. It was said that Ye showed great aptitude early on and could memorize books after a single read—an avid student of medicine. From the age of 12 to 18, he learned from 17 renowned doctors; benefiting from the rich teachings within the family, Ye became a doctor before he was 20 and began to practice, bringing glory to his family’s reputation. There wasn’t a single difficult or complicated disease he couldn’t cure, and before long his name was known across the country. Heaven does not favor a single man in granting such gifts. Great talent and genius, though rare, are never unique. Ye had a younger counterpart, Xue Xue, whose courtesy name was “Shengbai” or “born bright”, originally from Shanxi. It was perhaps also to avoid turmoil that Xue’s family moved to Suzhou. Xue Shengbai was some ten years younger than Ye and should have paid respect to the senior master by any account, but the younger Xue was also a genius at a young age. He studied Confucianism and was extremely well-read. A talented writer and calligrapher, he was also versed in Taoism and martial arts—a truly accomplished gentleman of the age. It was Xue’s frequently ill mother that led him to medical texts. A Confucian turned doctor, though unorthodox, was still able to achieve great fame, comparable to Ye’s stature despite his unconventional methods. A man with such talent couldn’t help developing certain a pride. With talents surpassing Ye in all other aspects and with medical skills no less impressive, Xue rarely put on a humble, polite appearance for Ye. On the contrary, he secretly developed a competitive streak. Unfortunately, rivals of that sort rarely become friends. Ye had been practicing for many years when Xue began to establish a name for himself. The elder Ye’s rich knowledge of medicine and humanity were engraved in the hearts of the masses, but despite this, Xue wanted to compete with him in popularity. As fate would have it, both Ye and Xue lived at separate ends of the same street under the Jingqiao
Bridge outside the western city gate. The horses of the patients would line up in front of Ye’s doorstep all the way to Xue’s place, while the latter was rarely visited. Such a scene embarrassed Xue, and people inevitably gave him advice: “It has nothing to do with your medical skills. Because you are close to Ye, patients do not want to offend Ye and his family by coming here. Even if Ye hasn’t suggested it himself, who wants to appear ungrateful? Move your practice to a new location and you are guaranteed to be swamped with business.” But how could the prideful Xue accept such an obtrusive suggestion and simply give in? He held his ground, refusing to relocate. However, the crowding by his rival’s patients on his own doorstep vexed him. There was nothing he could do but make sour comments about Ye, calling him a “doctor of fortune”, and calling himself a “Confucian doctor”. On hearing his new nickname, Ye laughed: “It’s indeed fortune and fate. I’m no better than Xue except for my luck. Come and see me while I still have a decade of luck to come; after that, you will have to turn to Xue.” His response, playing up his rarity, attracted even more patients, afraid that Ye would become unavailable if they didn’t hurry. Xue was frustrated by all this talent. He collected all Ye’s records of diagnoses and prescriptions, criticizing each and every one of them. He even changed the name of his study into “Sao Ye Hamlet”1. He even self-published medical books and critiques under the pseudonym Sao Ye. Ye, annoyed by Xue’s belligerence, changed his study’s name to “Ta Xue Hall”2 in return.
ZENG JIANHUI 曾剑辉 Zeng Jianhui, pen name Zeng Yimo (曾乙末), is a 1980s generation writer who publishes his stories mostly on Douban, one of China’s most important online literature communities. His stories are characterized by a fairly typical approach to online writing: action-driven, swift narration, historic backgrounds often set in the Ming and Qing dynasties, and characters that are distinctly wuxia. Yet the young writer’s skillfulness, his experiments with narration and language, and the hidden social and philosophical gaze behind the seemingly entertaining stories set him apart from most writers of his kind; as he puts it himself: “I enjoy looking at the perplexing reality we live in via absurd stories.”
1. Meaning “leaf sweeping” on appearance, intimating a feeling of enmity with the homophone ye. 2. Meaning “snow stepping”, with “snow”, or xue, referring to his opponent. Issue 2 /2015
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The underground competition between “Sao Ye” and “Ta Xue” created plenty of after-dinner gossip for the neighborhood. One year later, Suzhou was hit by a horrible plague. The infected swelled up and became feverish, experienced red welts, and showed abscesses on the neck. A few days later, they would die. The epidemic claimed many lives and spread terror among the living. The provincial government immediately opened clinics in all counties, offering the poor treatment for free. Well-known local doctors were invited to join, hoping that together they would survive this difficult time. Among these doctors were Ye and Xue. Knowing their history, the county official was cautious, assigning them to two different clinics on the east and west ends of the area to prevent conflict. Ye resided in a clinic on the east while Xue was assigned to the west. They examined patients, prescribed, prepared, and distributed medicine independently. Without having to interact, the two worked in peace. A few days later, the epidemic seemed to spread faster and more patients poured into the swamped clinics—with limited beds, medicine, and manpower. Only Ye and Xue managed to keep their clinics afloat, largely because they were curing more patients. News of their skills spread, meaning the locals rushed to them for treatment when infected—putting even heavier pressure on their clinics. Several respectable elderly members of local families and venerated country gentlemen decided to put together some money to support the two clinics and assist them in their plague relief. They passed their donations while solemnly pleading, “Tens of thousands of the locals all depend on you.” Indeed a heavy responsibility, both Ye and Xue took it on without a single complaint. They studied the disease vigorously, striving to indentify the source of the plague and put an end to it. While Ye and Xue arduously researched the matter, a rumor broke out from a tea stall in front of Xuanmiao Temple that a few country gentlemen had donated thousands of kilograms of gold to cast an honorary plaque, engraved with the words “Lord of Medicine” to be awarded to the doctor who put an end to the plague. Whoever solved the puzzle of the plague would win the title. Though the reward was denied by the gentry, the title “Lord of Medicine” was passed on. Gradually, the locals learned of this and were eager to find out who was the better of the two doctors. Whether it was to end the suffering or competitiveness, the rumor of the title certainly triggered ambitions in Ye and Xue. They put even more effort into their research. At this point, the government medical examiner and officers were gradually able to discover a few clues to the epidemic. They found rat bodies in gullies and ditches on the city 14
sidewalk. The entire county started to purify itself, burning mugwort to scatter the rodents and adding lime to the well water. As a result, the plague slowed down. The next morning, Ye and Xue sent their individual prescriptions to the pharmacies. The pharmacist on the west was stunned by Xue’s prescription because of one ingredient—petals of plum blossom. This came at a time when spring was transitioning to summer, and where in the world would anyone be able to find plum blossoms, which appear in the winter? The pharmacist grabbed the prescription and rushed to Xue’s residence for help. When he learned of the pharmacist’s arrival, Xue knew something was wrong, and when he heard the problem, he realized his mistake. He snatched the prescription from the pharmacist and set it on fire with a candle, sighing: “It’s fortune and fate.” The pharmacist tried to persuade him: “Doctor Xue, we still have time if you simply make a change to the prescription.” Xue shook his head and said: “It is too late; the clinic on the east must have prepared the medicine by now.” Indeed, as soon as Ye came up with a prescription, all the ingredients were gathered and thrown into a pot to cook. A few hours later, the medicine was given to a patient in critical condition. Ye emerged victorious, deserving of the title genius. After the arduous diagnosis, he had identified the heart of the problem. As soon as the patient took the dose, he swiftly improved, a full recovery expected. The entire county broke into thunderous cheers, the news passing like wildfire. The county official invited all the respectable local figures to pay their respects and express their gratitude to Ye, heralded by drums and gongs. In this match, Ye was the clear winner. As it turned out, there never actually was a golden plaque, but the locals nonetheless heralded Ye as the “Lord of Medicine”. Xue burned his prescription, but the content still circulated. It was said that, on reading Xue’s prescription, Ye couldn’t help but marvel. He told his disciples, “He took a different approach but the result is equally satisfactory, like a different route but to the same destination. The timing of the last ingredient was regrettable, but Xue is indeed a brilliant doctor.” Xue was brilliant but proud. He lost the competition and conceded that he couldn’t remain so close to Ye. So, Xue shut his door to shun visitors and stopped practicing alltogether. He turned to studying the I Ching and the method and laws for divination and sorcery it contains. A decade later, Ye became even more prominent. From illustrious royalty to the indigent, everyone knew the name “Ye, Lord of Medicine”. Under the Jingqiao Bridge, abundant boats forever crowed the canal, bringing patients from across the nation to see Ye or ask him to make house
calls. Unless the invitation was from a high level official or the aristocracy, Ye rarely obliged—but only because he was too busy. As for Xue, there were insightful people wanting his medical advice, but Xue turned them all down, saying hadn’t touched medical texts for a decade and didn’t want to flaunt his poor skills. The decade was a prosperous era for the Qing Dynasty, including a growing population, particularly in the boom region of Jiangsu. Many northerners left their poor hometowns and migrated south for a better life, adding to the dense population of the area. On appearance, the city was flourishing. But danger lurked, chiefly in the pollution of the rivers. Locals found a stench gradually rising from the inner and outer canals of the city. They petitioned the government to treat it for the public good, but before the local official could come up with a plan, another plague hit. It began with a few load-shouldering porters drinking from the river to save money on tea; later in the evening, they experienced abdominal pain. Shortly after they were sent to the doctor, they died. There were several similar cases that followed, and the county government was informed. Because of the successful fight against the previous plague, the new official and local people were not overly worried. All the official did was to issue notices to dispel public alarm and opened a few workhouses to provide cold tea. The plague began to spread and the local people were once again filled with panic. A few smart pharmacists dug out the old prescription from Ye for the last plague, gathered ingredients, and cooked the medicine for sale. Though people rushed to buy it, the medicine seemed futile in stopping this new plague. The county was on the verge of another disaster when Ye volunteered to contact the proper local authorities to start free clinics and give out medicine. He also sent people to investigate water sources within the county and gathered all the bodies of the diseased for burning in a chosen location. Ye knew that, though the laws of nature seemed to be constant and repetitive, no two illnesses are identical, making the old prescription ineffective. Plague relief was in full swing, but the infected still died. The condition was, however, less chaotic than the previous plague. Fortunately, the investigators of the water sources brought back news. The information was from a feng shui master out inspecting in the suburbs in early spring. Word had it that the feng shui master hiked the nearby mountain to look for caves, discovering several snake pits where hundreds or even thousands of snakes gathered—strange as these creatures were never seen living in groups before. Also, it was not yet Jingzhe3, so why did the snakes wake
up so early from their hibernation? After a stroll in the mountains, the feng shui master found that people were reclaiming mountain land, thus disturbing the snakes. Ye pondered the news for a long time before saying, “Everything in the world reinforces and restrains another; the main reason is the alternation of yin and yang in the changing of the four seasons, which is marked by the 24 solar terms. The undulation of yin and yang keeps every creature in their place without over proliferation. Poisonous snakes lie in hibernation and wake up because of thunder during Jingzhe. The first venom they spit is the deadliest thing in the world. Based on the information at hand, the overpopulation of Suzhou has caused human expansion into the wild, and these dormant creatures were disturbed. They spit venom into the earth, which then infects the groundwater. In addition, the rivers around Suzhou grew heavily polluted and full of filth, all contributing to the impending plague. In my opinion, the crux of the problem is the snakes, and the solution lies in the law of reinforcement and restraint of all things.” Ye intentionally paused and looked around at his disciples. One of Ye’s well-learned disciples, named Gu Jingwen, raised a question: “Snakes and scorpions alike hibernate and when awake spit venom into the earth every year. Why haven’t any plagues developed before? It proves that the antidote must exist in the course of nature; it’s just that it has not shown up yet.” Ye nodded with approval and said, “An excellent point.” He refused to give more clues, and instead picked up the tea cup to take a sip, leaving his disciples in contemplation. They thought deeply but still couldn’t provide any answers. Gu stepped up again: “Please forgive our obtuseness, but could you give us a hint?” Ye said, “Jingzhe starts with thunder, but what comes after the thunder?” “Thunderstorms!” several disciples responded. “Yes, thunderstorms. The first rain follows the first thunder in spring. It brings down countless amounts of qi from the sky, which is most effective in purifying the foul earth. Take the rain drops after the first thunder in spring as a conducting ingredient, and the plague will be dissolved in no time.” Gu frowned and said: “But there’s still more than half a month till Jingzhe. We can’t wait that long for the rain. I fear that…” Ye sighed, sank into the chair, and replied: “The motion of clouds and rainfall is under the heaven’s will, I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”
3. “Awakening of Insects”, the third of the 24 solar terms, referring to March 5 to March 20 when, in Chinese folklore, dormant insects are awakened by thunderstorms.
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At the time, there was a gifted scholar named Shen Deqian, who had befriended Ye. He was also classmates with Xue while learning to write poetry from the great poet Ye Xie in Jiaxing. Having learned of Ye’s dilemma, Shen rushed to give his advice, “Right now, there’s only one person who can save the people from doom, and this person is Xue Shengbai.” It turned out that, according to Shen, Xue was well-known for his scholarly wisdom, proficiency in the I Ching, and divination abilities. However, few knew that he was also a sorcerer, able to conjure wind and rain—similar to the legendary strategist Zhuge Liang in the Three Kingdoms period. Ye clapped his hands at this idea and sent Shen to Xue’s home to ask him to help. Shortly after, Shen returned with the news that Xue would set up an altar and perform the deed in three days. That day happened to be Yushui4. The altar stood on Jingqiao Bridge, in which three joss sticks as thick as baby arms were lit. Bystanders crowded the river banks, incense tables were everywhere with swirls of smoke slowly rising. Xue appeared on one end of the bridge, dressed in all white with his hand lifting a peach wood sword. He proceeded to the altar. It was the first time in ten years Xue had made a public appearance. He was lean with threads of white hair over his head—a divine demeanor. Xue made his stance in front of the altar, picking up the evocation bell on the table. Ding-ding! The airy tinkles struck awe into the hearts of the onlookers. Xue began to shake the bell in one hand and flourish the sword in the other. His bearing was vigorous and brisk; his motion was fierce and spastic. He murmured: “Great disaster falls from heaven, and we should bear it if it is the gods’ will; but calamity should have passed. Heaven cares for every living thing, give mercy to the innocent people and save us from the bitter sea, an infinitely kind and commendable act.” Gradually the murmuring became a low chanting. Suddenly, Xue lifted his sword. The paper talismans on the table soared into the sky like a loose kite. In midair, they burst into flames one by one, just as a bleak wind came from nowhere, blowing the ashes everywhere. The sky darkened and the black clouds swirled over the crowd’s heads. The wind grew stronger and stronger. One person sensed a drop of rain hitting their face, and shouted, “It’s raining!” A second person felt it and shouted too. Soon, everyone felt it. A tsunami of cries exploded. But Ye was still anxious. “Thunder, there should be thunder to make it Jingzhe,” he murmured. With that, Xue’s sword routine came to a close. He
stuck his left index finger and middle finger behind his back—a sword gesture—and pointed his right hand to the sky. Thunder boomed over their heads like a warning to the Suzhou people, and a sky-ripping, earth-splitting crack rolled over them. Before the crowd could recover from the shock, torrential rain drops began to pour. Thunder rumbled and rain fell. Young and old, the people were overjoyed. Ye quickly ordered his disciples to save the rainwater and start cooking the medicine. When he turned around, he found Xue standing on the bridge alone. Right at that moment, it dawned upon Ye that doctors are not the only ones who treat people; those who reconcile the sky and earth—harmonize yin and yang—were also doctors. Ye said to himself, “as the doctor of fortune, my luck is finally at an end.” Ye passed away the following year. When he was on his death bed, he instructed his disciples and children, “You can either be a doctor or not be one. Only with a natural talent and the diligence to read tens of thousands of books can you develop the skills to practice medicine; otherwise, you are destined to harm people with your blade-like drugs, be sure to remember this. After I die, none of you are allowed to pick fights with Xue. You should concentrate on learning the knowledge of medicine and studying various medical records. When your skills reach a certain competency, things will happen naturally.” When Xue heard Ye’s last words, he sighed: “It’s fortune and fate.” Ye then opened a clinic to start practicing again. The people of Suzhou picked a spot outside the western city gate to build the Temple of the Lord of Medicine and a statue to commemorate him. Some said the statue resembled Ye Tianshi, others believed it to be Xue Shengbai. Though there was never a definitive conclusion, the temple was prosperous. The competition between the two heroes ended in a draw—a rare Chinese result. Perhaps it’s because it’s even rarer for people to take fortune and fate seriously. - TRANSLATED BY LIU JUE (刘珏), AUTHORIZED BY DOUBAN
Author’s Note: My inspiration for this story came from randomly flipping through history and ancient romances. Ye Tianshi and Xue Shengbai were both actual historical figures. The two men were kind of in a competitive relationship, but not nearly as bizarre and eccentric as the way my story tells it. On a whim, I made it that way so the story is interesting.
4. “Rain Water”, the second of the 24 solar terms, starting from around February 18.
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he ThreeCharacter Primer of Film Please don’t read the Three-Character Primer of Film by Liu Cheng (柳城). If you do, you’ll become extremely wise in the ways of screenwriting, and I don’t need the competition. ——David Seidler ( American playwright, The King’s Speech won for Best Original Screenplay at the American Academy Awards in 2010 )
www. theworldofchinese .com Order online for discount prices Chinese Edition (Yellow) English Edition (Red)
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EVERY YEAR IN EARLY SUMMER, THE BEEKEEPERS TAKE A BUCKET TO GET HONEYCOMB. ONE END OF THE BUCKET IS COVERED WITH A LID TO KEEP THE BEES FROM FLEEING IN A PANIC. 18
The Bees of Banliao A look at traditional Chinese beekeeping 福建板寮村古法收集 的野蜂蜜 PHOTOGRAPHS BY YANG TIANXIN (杨天鑫) , TEXT BY LIU JUE (刘珏)
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KALEIDOSCOPE
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idden in the mountain valley of Longyan, Fujian Province, a few dozen families reside along the banks of a shallow spring. Together, they form Banliao Village (板寮村). Perhaps heralding the slow passage of time here, slogans from the Cultural Revolution seem strangely fresh on the walls of many farmhouses. It seems as though the village has hardly changed since then. With hills all around, the locals have created terraces in order to farm. Even today, their livelihoods still depend entirely on the mountain. Every once in a while, the local farmers load their bundles—packed with firewood, vegetables, fruits, mushrooms, poultry, and honey—and haul their shoulder poles to the nearby town for sale on the open market. Of these, honey is perhaps the most fascinating. Collecting wild honey is a common practice in the mountain villages of the South, including Banliao Village. It’s a simple addition to the family’s income which doesn’t require too much labor. The villagers make bamboo or wood into cylindrical buckets, leaving small holes in the bottom. They put a few of these buckets under the roof outside the farmhouse, and the wild bees find their way into this manmade nest to settle year round. Wildflowers abound on the mountain, making it a bee heaven. The local farmers cut the honey once a year in early summer, only taking half of the comb, leaving enough for the bees to get through the winter. The honeycomb is then naturally filtered through cloth to produce the end result: sweet, delicious, natural honey. This wild honey is highly valued by the locals—and on the market—because of its natural qualities. Unlike modern beekeeping where the honeycomb is cut year round (perhaps even before the comb is fully matured), obtaining this local honey can be laborious. However, the high price of the honey and the increase in demand in recent years means that the quality of the honey in the area is deteriorating. Many beekeepers are abandoning the slower, less productive method of traditional beekeeping to make more money. Today, only in remote villages like Banliao can people get a glimpse of the traditional method, and visitors may not be able to see it for much longer. 19
THE BUCKETS ARE MADE OF LOCAL MATERIALS SUCH AS BAMBOO, LEAVES AND WOOD
USING THE SMOKE OF BURNING MUGWORT, THE BEEKEEPER GETS THE BEES OUT OF THEIR NEST BEFORE TAKING THE HONEYCOMB
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THE TOP OF THE BUCKET IS OPENED, AND COMB IS CAREFULLY BROKEN DOWN INTO PIECES WITHOUT DESTROYING ITS ORIGINAL FORM. ENOUGH COMB WILL BE LEFT OVER FOR THE BEES TO SURVIVE. Issue 2 /2015
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THE HONEY IS NATURALLY FILTERED BY PUTTING THE COMB ON A PIECE OF WHITE CLOTH AND LETTING GRAVITY DO THE WORK
AFTER THE HONEY IS COLLECTED, THE BUCKET IS WRAPPED AND TAKEN BACK TO ITS ORIGINAL LOCATION
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THE BEES HELD IN THE BASKET ARE LET FREE; THEY WILL SOON FIND THEIR WAY BACK TO THE NEST
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WALLED CITY MADE IN CHINA
The Kowloon Walled City and its hold on imaginations worldwide
九龙城寨，这座空中迷宫般的传奇 贫民窟，虽然已经拆掉多年，但仍 能在香港找到它些许残存的灵魂
T
o the unlicensed dentists and doctors who plied their trade in their ramshackle clinics, prostitutes, triad gangsters, and fugitive Kuomintang soldiers, the Kowloon Walled City (九龙城寨) was an unregulated, tax-free oasis that shielded them from interference from the Hong Kong authorities. But, right up until its evacuation and subsequent destruction in 1993 and 1994, the majority of the inhabitants simply called it home. Although it would become associated with crime and lawlessness—with Hong Kong residents from other areas often shunning it—the estimated 33,000 residents who were living on the 2.7 hectare patch in 1987 lived reasonably normal lives. By that point the crime and population density had significantly decreased, but it was still the densest population of human beings the world had ever seen. Most likely, nobody will ever know exactly how many people lived there at its peak. Before it became a cradle for organized crime and inspired imaginations worldwide, the Kowloon Walled City began its life as a trading outpost way back in the Song Dynasty (960 – 1279). For centuries, the outpost saw little action, save for sales of salt. Later it was intended to be a bulwark against British colonial 24
expansion from Hong Kong, but In 1898 all this changed, when an agreement between the colonial British authorities of Hong Kong and the Qing government left it in territorial limbo, and British authorities invaded, expelling many Chinese. The physical walls came down, pillaged for building materials. But the diplomatic walls remained, and in this vacuum a wooden shantytown began to form. Despite deadly fires and occasional efforts from the British to evict them, the squatters persisted. When the colonial authorities in 1945 began enforcing bans on vice, the Kowloon Walled City became a haven for those seeking to evade the crackdown, augmenting the existing population, many of whom had fled China’s civil war. The result was a community which steadfastly opposed any form of authority. In the 1950s, the triads slowly but surely began to exercise control over many aspects of the Walled City, but even then it remained a fragmented society, built upon the pragmatic needs of the moment. Between the locals who ventured into Hong Kong to tap water and electricity mains to serve their needs, and the vibrant black markets in vice, the city
OF DREAMS Photograph
courtesy of
Suenn Ho
BY DAVID DAWSON
began to develop a reputation, fueled by the competing narratives spread by the British and Chinese authorities. It remained at the center of a diplomatic and legal tug-o-war between China and the British, with criminals caught in the city being extradited to China, until 1959 when the British asserted more legal control. Drugs, prostitution and all manner of crime proliferated throughout the dank, crowded halls, but if you were a long-term resident and knew which areas to avoid, your life continued as normal. As its population swelled and an economic boom greeted Hong Kong in the 1970s, the buildings grew taller, restricted only by the flight path at the nearby airport—one of the few regulations followed within the community. The 70s and 80s were also the time when a series of police crackdowns led to a massive reduction in crime—the crackdown built up slowly, as the police force also had to root out corruption in its ranks before it could quash rather than compete with the crime in the Walled City and launch effective raids. But it is the dystopian image of the Kowloon Walled City that endures the most in pop culture—the densely populated, crime-ridden block of high-rises, jammed so tightly together the buildings themselves resemble castle walls. This inspired everything from Gotham City’s criminal neighborhood of “The Narrows” in the 2005 Issue 2 /2015
film Batman Begins, right through to computer games and even a Japanese theme park. But as Seth Harter, who was in 2000 an academic at the University of Michigan, outlined that year in a paper entitled “Hong Kong’s Dirty Little Secret”, viewing the Walled City as a bastion of crime is too simplistic. “At the time, pro-British factions portrayed the Walled City as a Chinese enclave, independent from the remainder of the colony, to cast it in the role of the dark antithesis of the colonial order,” he wrote. He said that the clients that utilized criminal enterprises in the city—be they the striptease joints, opium dens, gambling halls or even dog-meat stalls— were often drawn from outside the Walled City itself. And in the 60s and 70s, as crime boomed, civic awareness rose as well—in the form of the Kaifong Committee (街坊会), which began as a group of concerned residents who banded together to protect and maintain the Walled City. In stark contrast to the triad rule over the area’s dark underworld, the Kaifong Committee quite literally brought light to the community; they worked to provide cleaner areas in the city, as well as lighting and signs. In 1984 they even organized a funding drive to aid famine victims in Ethiopia. The Kaifong Committee—made up largely of well-meaning, middle-aged and elderly residents— 25
COMMON AREAS WERE BUILT AS A BARE NECESSITY FOR CIRCULATION PURPOSES, BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP SOCIALIZING FROM OCCURRING could not have been more different from the gangsters whom Hong Kong residents feared. So as the Kaifong rose and crime fell and Hong Kong’s property prices soared, the area became less identified with crime, and more of a place for the poor to seek refuge. By the 80s it was just starting to shed its disreputable image and become little more than a particularly dense, albeit poor neighborhood. Suenn Ho, today an urban designer based in the US, conducted in-depth research into the Walled City as part of a Fulbright scholarship. She and others who researched the city, such as Aaron Tan, a Harvard University architecture student who was writing a thesis, were struck by how the community evolved “organically” under its unusual circumstances. Ho points out how common areas were built as a bare necessity for circulation purposes, but that didn’t stop socializing from occurring—the outdoor balcony areas were so tightly packed together that residents chatted to one another between these “linked” areas, as they also did on the linked rooftops. These extensions were so widespread that they became an integral part of the structure. Tan observed the two-year demolition process and notes that “it evolved in such a way that these extensions became beams that supported the structure itself ”. Residents also evolved to fit the structure. Tan observed that limitations on things like water and electricity necessitated cooperation between residents. “Insufficient water was provided, so they dug wells. But there was also a lack of electricity, so they had access to power at different times in different parts of the city. They had to ensure they coordinated this with the pumping of the water.” Thus, cooperation became a necessity for survival. Ho points out that the city had doctors and dentists— unlicensed in Hong Kong but licensed from the mainland—as well as schools, temples, and day care centers for senior citizens. She rejected claims the city was a slum and said many people stayed there for very 26
practical reasons. But it was certainly no utopia. The residents lived under difficult, humid circumstances. Ho recalls one occasion she met and interviewed a man in a surprisingly spacious apartment. “There was a giant clear sheet covering most of the ceiling. The plastic sheet contained a giant pool of yellow liquid, and he seemed surprised that it bothered me when he told me the sheet was collecting liquid seeping from the apartment above.” There was also division. Jackie Pullinger, a missionary who spent decades working with the poor in the Walled City, wrote in her memoir that the triads effectively divided the city in two. Harter also points out that even the Kaifong did not succeed in forging a collective identity and promoting the Walled City’s history beyond its own walls until the specter of destruction loomed over the city. This is likely to have been when the sense of nostalgia for Walled City history picked up steam beyond the Walled City itself—and it is notable that this nostalgia still exists today, as exemplified by the city’s hold on pop culture. Although the city’s demolition was not completed until 1994—after a laborious two-year process that involved “peeling away sections”, as Tan put it—its death knell was sounded a decade earlier, in 1984, when the joint declaration was handed down. That was when it became clear when and how Hong Kong would be returned to the Chinese authorities. With the stroke of a pen, the Walled City was no longer a pawn at the center of diplomatic brinkmanship, but would soon become an undisputed part of China’s territory. Secret discussions began between the PRC and the colonial authorities, and on January 14, 1987 the British announced they would tear down the Walled City and replace it with a park. Right on cue, the Chinese authorities expressed their enthusiastic support. That very same day, the Hong Kong government dispatched plainclothes police and over a thousand members of the surveying and mapping department to determine the details of the city as well as occupancy: 33,000. The haste with which the operation was carried out was believed to be due to fears that the announcement (and the expectation of compensation) would send Walled City land prices skyrocketing. The Kaifong, along with residents, went into overdrive promoting the history of the Walled City, as residents feared they would be left with nothing. In the end, the residents were relocated to other parts of Hong Kong, but the city left its legacy in a number of ways, from pop culture to architecture. Tan notes that the “resilient DNA of Hong Kong” continues to express itself in today’s densely packed neighborhoods and their exterior cages reminiscent of the Walled City. “In that essence, it still lives on.”
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ng o l s e l mi
Ship cont ping on train ainer by e 10,0 costs and 00 USD days takes 21
Parthians carry silk flags and silk finds its way to Rome 28
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The captured soldiers of Gao Xianzhi (高 仙芝) spread papermaking to the West
Han Dynasty ends
The revered Xuanzang (玄奘), the inspiration for Journey to the West, sets out on his quest
Ghengis Khan ushers in the Pax Mongolica, allowing the Silk Road to thrive once more
> 845
629
>
220
100 BCE
399
166
First Roman envoy arrives in China
Tang Dynasty begins and the Silk Road enters its Golden Age
751
Chinese monk Faxian (法显) travels through Central Asia in search of Buddhist texts
618
138-126 BCE
General Zhang Qian (张骞) travels the Silk Road
1204
It
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The by raSilk Roa mor il touch d coune than s es tries ix
The Great Anti-Buddhist Persecution reaches its height, banning all the religions that traveled over the Silk Road
907
C
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RG U B S I U D
ilk R to
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ING Q G N O H
The
s xtend e d a o
The Tang Dynasty ends, and the Silk Road begins its decline
The Silk Road by truck goes Ningxia through Xinjiang
Temperatures along the Silk Road can fall to -20℃ and rise to 40℃ Trucks carry
1271 Kublai Khan establishes the Yuan Dynasty in Beijing and Marco Polo begins his journey East
Issue 2 /2015
The Yuan Dynasty ends and the Silk Road declines
1603
>
Ming court hands Macao to Portugal
China invests billions in an attempt to revive the Silk Road Economic Belt
1877
1405 1368
1345
1245
>
The great explorer Ibn Batutha enters China, Fujian Province
Henan Jiangsu
Benedict Goës travels the Silk Road, discovering for the West that “Cathay” was “China”
Sino-Arab explorer Zheng He (郑和) sets off on his first voyage on the maritime Silk Road
Shaanxi
2013-2015
ight is Rail freed to rise expectmillion 40to 7.5 ntainers foot co 0 by 202
Franciscan monk John of Pian de Carpine begins his travels to the Mongol Empire
Gansu
around 35,000,000 metric tons of freight every year to or from China
1557
CHINA HAS SIGNED 15 BILATERAL OR MULTILATERAL AGREEMENTS FOR A PROPOSED SILK ROAD FOR TRUCK TRANSPORT
German Ferdinand von Richthofen coins the term “Silk Road”
29 29
C O V ER S T ORY
Three stories from three eras on the Silk Road 唐代的漫漫征途，明代的发现之旅，当代的 商贸道路……三个故事带你走过丝绸之路
It’s difficult to say when the Silk Road began or what it constitutes. Indeed, it obviously isn’t a road at all—merely a series of outposts, oases, fortresses—and it’s not as if silk was the main commodity, carrying everything from armies and gold to priests and jade. But, surely, the Silk Road is a tale of the mysteries, wonders, and appetites of the East, of China. The road has changed hands from emperors and kings to local bandits and rebels. None of them owned it; they simply rode in its wake. Perhaps what most defines the Silk Road is that it endures. It was built in the fires of battle during the Han Dynasty (206 BCE – 220 CE), but the path to and the hope of the East existed long before. Long after the Tang Dynasty (618 – 907) put the Silk Road in its heyday in the second Pax Sinica, the Silk Road remained. Even when China itself was completely overrun by the Mongols of the North, the Silk Road thrived. And, today, even as shipping lanes and international logistics have made the path all but obsolete, the Silk Road endures. So, where then can the Silk Road be found? Where else but in the enduring stories and people that made it happen—that bore its journeys, that protected it, learned from it, succeeded from it, and died by it. History often records the most famous: Marco Polo, Xuanzang, Genghis Khan; but the Silk Road has a million tales to tell and all of them came at a cost. With each step on the Silk Road, one steps over a story. Here are three of them: a general, a servant, and a long-haul trucker. 30
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31
Illustrations
by
Gao Fei