Caiyun Nunnery

Caiyun Nunnery

Caiyun Nunnery is one of the scenic spots in Heyuan, located about ten li to the northwest of the city. It is surrounded by peaks such as Bijia Mountain (also known as Granny Chasing Pigs), Wudouzu Mountain, and Hulu’ao Mountain. In the midst of these mountains hangs a waterfall in midair, resembling a white silk ribbon—an extraordinary sight. The nunnery faces southeast and sits northwest, backed by the foothills of Hulu’ao Mountain, with thick growths of thatch, hence it is also called Simao Nunnery. Here, the murmuring springs, birdsong, and floral fragrances create an enchanting atmosphere. During summer and autumn, visitors flock here like schools of fish, entering at dawn and returning at dusk, leaving refreshed and invigorated. On the Double Ninth Festival, teachers and students from various schools in Yuan Cheng would climb the heights, carrying cooking utensils and food for picnics. They would explore the deep valleys, touch the peculiar rocks, bathe in the clear springs, admire the rare flowers, and sing and dance with joy, finding endless delight in the surroundings.

The nunnery was built during the Wanli era of the Ming Dynasty and has a history of over four hundred years. It was originally inhabited by Taoist priests. Though small in scale—just over a hundred square meters—it features unique structural layout. Upon entering, there is a long central courtyard, flanked by corridors. To the right is the priests' quarters, and to the left is the reception hall. The upper beam of the corridor houses three main halls: the central one is the Buddhist shrine, enshrining golden statues of Sakyamuni, Maitreya, and Manjushri. Offerings are made morning and evening, with incense smoke curling upwards, blending Buddhist chants with birdsong, inviting visitors to pause and listen. The right hall serves as a storage room, while the left is a calligraphy and painting studio, always stocked with paper, brushes, ink, and inkstones for literati to use. At the four corners of the courtyard grow grapevines, lush and shaded by sunlight, while orchids and osmanthus are sparsely planted along the sides, filling the air with their fragrance. In front of the gate are groves of peach, plum, apricot, and pear trees, offering blossoms for admiration and fruits for guests. Behind the nunnery, dense woods and tall bamboo thrive. The priests used bamboo tubes to channel spring water into the kitchen, where it flowed with a gentle gurgling sound. To the east of the nunnery lies a thicket with a small building, which was constructed by a Catholic priest as a summer retreat. Though the scenery is beautiful, due to the passage of time and frequent wars, both the nunnery and the small building have long since vanished.

According to local elders, the reason for building the nunnery has been passed down through generations. About four hundred years ago, during the Zhengde and Jiajing reigns of the Ming Dynasty, Xia Yan’s third son, Xia Ji, fled south and built it. Xia Yan was originally a general under Zeng Xian, the governor of Shaanxi. At the time, the Tatars invaded the Hetao region and threatened to move south. Loyal and deeply concerned about the situation, Xia Yan discussed with Governor Zeng Xian plans to reclaim Hetao and resist the invaders. However, the incompetent Emperor Jiajing, believing slanderous rumors, dismissed Xia Yan and had him imprisoned. Later, he and Zeng Xian were both executed in public. With loyal officials wrongfully killed and their families implicated, Xia Ji disguised himself as a monk, taking the Taoist name Rujì, and fled south. After wandering and begging for alms, he eventually arrived in Heyuan. He traveled through nearby villages, offering divinations, and accumulated considerable funds. Passing through Huangzidong Township in Dongpu Town, he observed the terrain of Bijia Mountain, Wudouzu Mountain, and Hulu’ao Mountain, deeming it a spiritually rich and secluded place suitable for hiding. With the consent and assistance of the villagers of Hulu’ao, he spent a year building the nunnery. Because Hulu’ao Mountain resembles a woman’s hair bun and touches the clouds, he named it Caiyun Nunnery (Colorful Clouds Nunnery).

Time flies, and sixty years have passed unnoticed. I still remember my childhood when our teacher, Li Xingyuan, led us on a camping trip and composed a couplet: “In literature, the two Simas of the Western Han; in statecraft, the sleeping dragon of Nanyang,” highly praising the Taoist priest “Xia Ji” who built the nunnery. Our principal, Xiao Yigang, also spontaneously recited a couplet: “A heart as firm as gold and stone, a spirit as noble as orchids; friendship rooted in benevolence and righteousness, teachings drawn from virtue and morality.” Both couplets praised the priest’s steadfastness. The principal then pointed to barely legible wall poetry and read it to us: “The world changes through the ages, yet the hair bun of Hulu’ao stands firm. Morning robes accompanied many mountain excursions, yet the Buddhist realm still preserves inscribed stones of old years. Alas, time passes, and the winds and mists fade. Flowers bloom casually, and cuckoos cry anew. I simply wield my colorful brush to inscribe the monks’ walls, leaving behind a jade belt to shimmer in the sunlight.” This was written by Li Tao. Li Tao was a Ming Dynasty scholar-official who served as Governor of Yunnan during the Wanli era. After retiring to his hometown, he visited this place and was moved to compose the poem. The principal then washed a blurry stone tablet with water and carefully deciphered its inscription, which recounted how the Taoist priest Xia Ji described his father Xia Yan’s suppression after submitting the “Memorial on Six Matters.” The inscription roughly read: “...In the court, too many opinions clash—some matters see agreement in the morning and opposition by evening, some individuals praised in the morning and condemned by night, some policies contradicting each other without awareness, some reputations conflicting in their own right. Right and wrong are obscured by words, appointments and dismissals decided by favoritism. Policies change frequently, and affairs lack coherent order. The late emperor’s key principle for stabilizing the nation was to reward merit and punish failure, with actual achievements as the standard. ... Now, Governor Zeng Xian’s memorial presents strategies for national prosperity. We humbly await Your Majesty’s wise judgment. ... Thus, his proposal was suppressed, and he met his demise. Such is fate. As a son, I am truly incapable of serving loyally. I can only rely on the protection of the Buddha for life, hoping my parents’ spirits bear witness. I carve this stone to attest to my father’s integrity and express my grief. Erected in the Year of Yimao.” From this, it seems the legends of the elders of Hulu’ao Village are not unfounded. There are also scenic couplets about Caiyun Nunnery by local scholars: Li Pengdu wrote, “The ocean’s depths let fish leap, the sky’s calm lets kites soar.” Liao Mingqiu wrote, “After autumn arrives, mist fills the valleys; at noon, floral scents waft by the railing.” Zheng Yiqiang wrote, “Rosy clouds and red rain adorn the green hills, cloud shadows and shimmering waves color the blue waters.” These poems and couplets were provided by my senior, Liu Chongqi.

Reflecting on the deeds of the predecessors who built the nunnery, I am filled with deep emotion. Yet its former site remains embraced by the scenic beauty of the three mountains (cloaked in green and white). Especially now, as we emphasize spiritual civilization and value historical relics, visitors to this place far outnumber those of the past. But people only speak of visiting “Simao Nunnery,” while the true name “Caiyun Nunnery” has almost been forgotten. Thus, I write this to commemorate the past and preserve its memory.