Tianzhuangzhai Ancient Residences

Tianzhuangzhai Ancient Residences

The Tianzhuangzhai Ancient Residences are currently well-preserved, with the Huizhou-style architecture of western Anhui—characterized by “blue bricks, gray tiles, and horse-head walls”—displayed here in full splendor. Unlike typical Huizhou architecture, the location of the Tianzhuangzhai Ancient Residences is nestled against mountains and near water, emphasizing feng shui principles. This differs significantly from Huizhou architecture in southern Anhui, where house orientations rigidly favor a north-south alignment. The horse-head walls here are also different. Due to the high mountains and dense forests, and to prevent fires, the horse-head walls of the Tianzhuangzhai Ancient Residences stand over seven feet tall—more than twice the height of those in southern Anhui.

The main representatives of the Tianzhuangzhai Ancient Residences are the Nanhe and Bawan Ancient Residences, covering an area of about a hundred acres. The main buildings consist of three layers and four courtyards. In the principal rooms of the ancient residences, portraits of the original heads of the household from the early Qing Dynasty construction period are enshrined. The residents here mostly belong to the Huang family, numbering over 159 people. Rooms are allocated according to age, seniority, and status, and the community lives a collective life of shared labor and equal consumption. It is said that this large family was once among the wealthiest in several counties. After several restorations, the main structures of the ancient residences still retain their original appearance, making it a sought-after tourist destination. Policies now prohibit arbitrary demolition or construction in the area.

In October, Tianzhuangzhai unfolds like a beautiful painting amidst the autumn hues. From a distance, it resembles the masterpiece of another great artist. From Baima Peak to the ancient residences, the mountain paths wind along, with light clouds and gentle breezes, accompanied by the sounds of autumn streams. This scenery fills me—someone who has long lived in Fuyang—with boundless admiration. It’s as if the mountains, waters, pines, and clouds are an unpunctuated metaphor. Verses from Tang poetry such as “Setting sun seeps deep into the forest” or “Clear spring flows over stone” best capture the essence of the scene.

It is said that these ancient residences can be traced back to the Song Dynasty, and there is a folk legend from that time. In the late Southern Song Dynasty, Cheng Lun initially built Tianzhuangzhai on Duoyun Mountain (Tianzhuangzhai Peak) to resist the Yuan Dynasty. Later, at the end of the Yuan Dynasty, the monk Peng Ying and the cloth merchant Xu Shouhui gathered followers to rebel against the Yuan and rebuilt Tianzhuangzhai. During this period, there may have been many stories—if one delves deeply enough, there are surely numerous legendary tales of heroism. The ancient residences beneath their blue bricks and gray tiles preserve the prototype of village layouts from the Ming and Qing periods, with exquisitely designed structures, rhythmic spatial layers, and picturesque water-gate courtyards, as if they were hidden gems embedded in the mountains. They represent a splendid page in the annals of history. Reading this ancient story today evokes a sense of the weight of time.

The pond in front of the village, the trees by the pond, the grass and flowers under the trees—all grow peacefully under the blue sky. In autumn, the leaves glow with a faint yellow sheen, some tinged with fresh green. Though I may not know the names of the trees, they likely, like the people of the ancient village, quietly endure the cycle of seasons. In the ancient residences, time in the mountains seems like a comb, tidying up the chaos of life and bringing inner peace. I’ve grown fond of these mountains, these waters, and these ancient residences. Listening to the murmuring of waterfalls under the trees feels like the Buddha’s Zen teachings, cleansing the dust from one’s heart—like an elder recounting the depth, tranquility, and beauty of the Dabie Mountains, the simplicity and kindness of the Nanhe villagers, the closeness and distance within silent years, and the beauty of purity, simplicity, and resilience. It is a living ink-wash landscape painting, as well as a still, meticulously detailed artwork. In this painting, time may have aged, but the scenery remains unchanged. Touching the walls, tiles, pavilions, eaves, wells, and water jars of the village with your gaze, perhaps this simplicity can help one rediscover a stretch of time, reread a moment in history, and feel as though meeting a long-forgotten world—like a black-and-white movie scene—that calms the heart once more.

Moss grows on the blue stone or gray brick walls, offering a sense of quiet through the passage of time. The carved wooden lattice windows feature patterns, exuding a rustic vintage charm. Perhaps it is the weight and spirit of the Dabie Mountains that lends the ancient residences a simple beauty, while also carrying a touch of watery elegance. They resemble a poem from an ancient scroll, a decorative stamp on a postcard, or the lines in paper-cut art. In the deep autumn, the ancient residences, amid the distant echoes of mountains and waters, sketch out an old-world ambiance. It’s as if it’s the moonlight of those years, the lamps of those years, the love of those years—all turned to dust in the mundane world. Looking back, we’ve already gone too far, far away.

Though not the most exquisite among China’s ancient architecture, the classical beauty of the Tianzhuangzhai Ancient Residences, situated within the mountains, is like a piece of jade. It records the passage of time in the mountains, the honesty and serenity of the mountain people, and their peaceful, uncompetitive way of life. Compared to the towering skyscrapers of the city, I prefer the timeless charm of these ancient dwellings. The wood carvings on window frames, the subtle brushwork on pillars, corridors, or eaves—all embody the ideals and aspirations people hold for a better life. The ancestors of those who lived in these ancient residences might have been well-read, learned in the classics, wise, and peace-loving. To live in seclusion in the mountains and become a virtuous person was considered a wise choice in ancient times. Though heroes may achieve little, cultivating one's character was another realm of life they pursued. I think that those who often feel famous in the world would, upon coming to the mountains, realize how small they truly are. Rather than engaging in lofty discussions or empty boasting, it’s better to take a walk in the mountains and spend a night in the ancient residences. Only then can one truly understand the world, comprehend life, and perceive the ways of the secular world.