Boundless Romance

Boundless Romance

The engraved stone inscription "Boundless Romance" is actually a wordplay puzzle formed by removing the outer strokes of the characters “风月” (wind and moon, symbolizing romance or scenic beauty), leaving behind “虫二” (literally “insect two”). This cleverly implies the phrase "boundless romance," used to describe the area’s breathtaking scenery that captivates visitors, prompting them to pause and ponder the mystery of the riddle.

On the north side of the Ten Thousand Immortals Tower at Mount Tai, there is a cliff inscription that reads “虫二.” This “虫二” bears both an upper and a lower inscription: the upper inscription indicates the time of carving, “已亥夏六月,” where “已亥” refers to the 25th year of the Guangxu reign during the Qing Dynasty (1899 AD); the lower inscription names the carver, “历下刘廷桂立” (erected by Liu Tinggui of Lixia). Liu Tinggui, nicknamed “Liu Twelve,” earned this moniker for passing the imperial examination as a scholar at the age of 12.

Scholar Yu says there are two “虫二” inscriptions: one is the Mount Tai cliff carving, and the other is a stone tablet at the Mid-Lake Pavilion on Hangzhou’s West Lake. Folklore has it that when Liu Tinggui once invited a friend from Hangzhou to climb Mount Tai, they arrived at this spot and were struck by the lush, misty scenery. On a sudden inspiration, he wrote the two characters “虫二.” When asked what it meant, he replied that although there was no pavilion explicitly named “Boundless Romance,” the view before them truly embodied just that. It turns out that Emperor Qianlong, during his southern tour, had inscribed the words “Boundless Romance” on a pavilion at Hangzhou’s West Lake. To avoid appearing to imitate the emperor, Liu Tinggui cleverly opted for “虫二” instead. Interestingly, this act of “avoiding an imperial reference” later inspired someone to inscribe “虫二” on a stone tablet at the reconstructed Mid-Lake Pavilion on Hangzhou’s West Lake in 1953—a two-tiered, golden-tiled pavilion. That tablet was even popularly rumored to bear the “imperial handwriting” of Emperor Qianlong himself.

Another folk tale surrounding this inscription claims that the nuns at nearby Doumu Temple were known for breaking monastic rules and engaging in scandals. On one occasion, Liu Tinggui climbed Mount Tai and stopped by the temple to ask for water, but the nuns refused. In anger, he wrote “虫二” to mock them for indulging only in romantic affairs.

There are also stories that Liu gave the nuns a plaque inscribed with the characters “因受” (literally “cause receive”), formed by removing the “heart” radicals from the characters “恩” (grace) and “爱” (love)—thus implying “love without heart.” This was another jab at the nuns, suggesting they were fickle and immoral.

In modern times, as Mount Tai grew in fame and attracted more pilgrims, many speculated about the meaning of “虫二,” but none succeeded until Guo Moruo deciphered its true significance. Professor Yu explains that in the late 1950s, several Japanese scholars visited Mount Tai. Enchanted by the scenery along the way, they were particularly struck by the two mysterious characters “虫二” carved into the western cliffside of the path north of the Ten Thousand Immortals Tower. They asked their Chinese guides for the meaning, stumping everyone on the spot. Even after their trip, the Japanese scholars continued to inquire about how to read and interpret “虫二.” Chinese scholars then searched through texts and consulted experts, but to no avail. In 1961, when Mr. Guo Moruo climbed Mount Tai, he was specifically shown the inscription. After studying the two characters, he paused, then added two strokes to each side of “虫二,” transforming it visually into “风月.” He smiled and said, “These characters should be read as ‘boundless romance.’ It’s simply a word game played by ancient literati.”

However, this still didn’t resolve the origin of “虫二.” Later, while reading unofficial Qing Dynasty histories and personal notes, researchers found a reference in Chu Renhuo’s “Jianhu Ji” (Collection of Stories), which quotes “Kuixuan Miscellaneous Records”: Tang Bohu once inscribed the words “Boundless Romance” on the plaque of Xiangying’s home. Everyone who saw it praised the calligraphy, but Zhu Zhishan remarked, “This is making fun of you all as ‘虫二.’” When Xiangying asked what he meant, Zhu Zhishan said, “Boundless romance—isn’t that ‘虫二’?” Though Xiangying preferred the original phrase, she didn’t change it.

But even Chu Renhuo wasn’t certain if the phrase originally came from Tang Bohu, noting in a footnote that “the 'Zhiyi Collection' attributes it to Qian Hetan.” A similar account also appears in the Japanese work “Chuyuting Suibi,” a mix of poetry and informal essays by Mengting Dongju.

Zhang Dai’s “Kuaizhuan Daogu” (Stories from the Happy Garden), Volume 12, section “Small Wisdom: Riddles: Character Puzzles,” states: “The two characters ‘虫二’ were given by Xu Wenchang as the name for a study room, symbolizing ‘boundless romance.’” Additionally, Qing Dynasty scholar Ping Buzheng’s “Xia Wai Jun Xie” mentions: “People from Yue (Shaoxing) love to spread curious tales. For example, they say Xu Tianchi visited West Lake and inscribed a plaque with ‘虫二.’ When questioned, he explained it meant ‘boundless romance.’” Both Xu Wenchang and Xu Tianchi refer to the same person—Xu Wei. Tang Bohu lived from 1470 to 1523, while Xu Wei lived from 1521 to 1593, indicating that Tang Bohu’s use of “虫二” predates Xu Wei’s.

An even earlier origin is said to be connected to Li Bai. On the third floor of Yueyang Tower in Hunan, there are two couplets on the east and west sides. The eastern couplet is a short eight-character line: “Water and sky share one hue; wind and moon know no bounds,” signed “Li Bai of the Longevity Star.” According to the 1985 book “Scenic Wonders of Balin” published by Hunan Fine Arts Publishing House, there is a story that the wooden walls on the third floor of Yueyang Tower once faintly displayed three characters: “一” (one), “虫” (insect), and “二” (two). No one could figure out their meaning. Later, when Li Bai visited, he recognized it as a riddle couplet meaning “water and sky share one hue; wind and moon know no bounds,” and he immediately wrote down the now-famous phrase.

This story remains a legend, with obvious signs of being contrived. However, it is a historical fact that Li Bai did visit Yueyang Tower, as evidenced by his own poem “Climbing Yueyang Tower with Xia the Twelfth.” The poem reads: “From the tower I gaze o’er Yueyang’s span; / The river widens as the lake begins. / Wild geese bear off my sorrowful heart, / And mountains bring me the moon on the brim. / Clouds form my couch, I seem to float mid-air, / Amid the cups as if in heaven I’d dine. / Drunk, I feel the breeze arise and play / With sleeves that dance in the wind so fine.”

Even more intriguing is the claim that the characters “虫二” appeared naturally on Mount Tai as long as 2.5 billion years ago, only to be discovered in 1993. However, the author of these characters was not a calligrapher, but nature itself. In 1993, a rock enthusiast named Chen Xingwang found a peculiar stone near the foot of Mount Tai. Measuring 18 centimeters in length and weighing 1,420 grams, the stone’s natural patterns clearly formed the shapes of the characters “虫二.” More naturally elegant than Liu Tinggui’s carving, the “虫” character is clear and cleverly understated, white as jade and dynamic as the wind. Its initial stroke, a left-falling stroke, and final dot are connected by a white line that wraps around the stone and links back, seemingly merging into the rock itself. The “二” character is faint as silk, curved like a crescent moon, composed of irregular white dots that make it appear as though it floats in mist. The “calligraphy” on the stone is bold yet balanced, with well-proportioned density and spacing. The interplay of the two characters’ colors creates a visual harmony, making this a rare “treasure” bestowed upon humanity by nature.