Ancient Ginkgo from the Three Kingdoms Period

Ancient Ginkgo from the Three Kingdoms Period

　The ginkgo tree at Fengtai No. 1 Middle School was once an ornamental plant in the garden of Zhou Tai, a renowned general of the Eastern Wu during the Three Kingdoms period. With an age of over 1,800 years, it stands 28 meters tall, has a crown diameter of 26 meters, and a trunk diameter of more than 2 meters. Though its gnarled old branches are twisted and weathered, its fan-shaped leaves remain lush and green, densely covering the branches. The roots protrude from the ground 30–40 centimeters in all directions, forming uniquely shaped, lake-rock-like structures. Covering an area of about 200 square meters, it proudly stands to the north of Fengtai City, exuding a majestic presence. In ancient times, it served as a landmark near the city.

This ancient tree has witnessed the vicissitudes of history, enduring countless trials. It has lived through the struggles of the Three Kingdoms, the rivalry between Wu and Chu, the contest for supremacy over the Central Plains, the chaos of the Two Jin Dynasties, and the rise and fall of successive dynasties—chronicling nearly two thousand years of history.

In ancient times, many myths and legends were associated with this tree: the Elder of the Ginkgo, giant pythons and beasts, healing the sick and warding off disasters. There’s also a tale of a traveler surnamed Lin from Huaiyuan who tied his horse to the tree while resting underneath. He left his horsewhip tied to the tree when he hurriedly continued his journey. Upon returning home and washing his face, he saw the reflection of a ginkgo tree in his basin, with the horsewhip hanging from its branches. These mythical tales turned the old tree into an object of reverence. People frequently came to pray for blessings or remedies, and seven or eight pairs of flagpoles were erected on the open space to the south, with incense smoke lingering around the tree.

In July 1938, Japanese invaders occupied Fengtai, demolished the Wenchang Palace, and set up a watchtower in the tree. One night, during a torrential rainstorm with thunder and lightning, a section of bark about two feet wide, stretching from the top to the roots on the southwest side of the tree, was struck and torn off by lightning. The Japanese, already facing “resentment from the people,” were further shocked by this astonishing event. They subsequently removed the watchtower and retreated into their bunkers.

In 1945, a school was established here, and the old tree was enclosed within the campus. When Fengtai was liberated and Fengtai Middle School was founded, students’ morning reading filled the air with voices under the ginkgo tree. The old tree, having found its rightful place, regained its vitality.

It is now a municipal-level protected ancient and famous tree, as well as a key cultural relic protection unit. Having survived calamity, it has emerged anew like a dry tree blooming in spring. As the poem goes:

Spring returns after the storm, the ginkgo stands unbowed.

Youthful branches lush and green, silently cradling its wounds.

Fallen petals scatter in the garden, nurturing seedlings and blooms.

Life’s vigor defies aging, fearing not the weight of hardship.