[FALL 1633, DATONG PREFECTURE, HUNYUAN SUBPREFECTURE, SHANXI]

Mount Heng is approximately 194 mi/312 km north of Mount Wutai in modern Shanxi Province. Xu Xiake left Mount Wutai on 10 September 1633 and arrived at Mount Heng a few days later. During the Qing dynasty, Hengshan was designated the Beiyue, or Sacred Mountain in the North, making it one of China’s most revered heights. Its main peak, Celestial Vanguard Ridge [Tianfeng Ling], stands 6,617 ft/2017 m above sea level. The mountain’s most notable scenic site is Poised in Midair Monastery. Perched on a precipitous cliff wall—seemingly poised in midair—a network of wooden plank walkways connects the monastery’s cere- monial halls and other buildings. Mount Heng in Shanxi (“Heng” 恆 in this mountain’s name means “constant”) should be distinguished from China’s Sacred Mountain in the South, also called Hengshan (“Heng” 衡 in this mountain’s name literally means “stable”) in Hunan, which Xu Xiake visited later in 1637.

The mountains open once one reaches here, seventy li from North Terrace, called East Base Mountain [Dongdi Shan]. As it turns out, the northern extremity of Mount Tai falls under the jurisdiction of Fanshi County.¹

Ninth day [11 September]: Departed from the mountains to the south. As for the big streams that approach from the mountains, they all depart to the west. Riding north on level land, I gazed at the mountains on my periphery, which in height are not four-tenths of those on Mount Wutai. These mountains are long and curly and coil like a low wall. They belt around Flat Mold [Pingxing] in the east and link with Wild Goose Gate [Yanmen] in the west.² I turned crosswise, followed a footpath for fifteen li, and reached the foot of the mountain in the north. Crossed Sand River, where one finds Sand River Bastion [Shahe Bao]. It nestles against the mountain and looks down on the flowing river. The bastion’s brickwork is high and in good condition. If one proceeds northwest from the bastion for seventy li, they will come out at Little Rock Crossing [Xiaoshi Kou], where one takes the west road to Datong Prefecture. If one proceeds directly north for sixty li, one will arrive at North Road Crossing [Beilu Kou], where one takes the east road to Datong Prefecture.

From behind the bastion, I climbed a mountain and proceeded northeast for several li, then reached the entrance to a gorge. A river approaches from the north and heads south, then descends and pours into the Sand River. Following the river, I went into the gorge, twisting and turning with the river’s course as I proceeded. The desolate valley is entirely uninhabited. Proceeded several li to Righteous Prosperity Stronghold [Yixing Zhai] and several more li to Zhu Family Lane [Zhujia Fang]. Next, after several more li, reached Gourd Beak [Hulu Zui]. I abandoned the gorge and climbed a mountain, then, following Gourd Beak, ascended. The terrain next formed into a col. I followed the stream’s course, which serves as the border of Hunyuan Subprefecture. Next, I proceeded several more li and came to Earthed Ridge [Tuling], but I was still sixty li from the subprefectural seat. And, as it turned out, I was now fifty li from Sand River in the southwest. So I stopped to stay with some people who shared my family name.

Tenth day [12 September]: Following a mountain stream approaching from the south, I headed north for three li, where another stream came from the west and merged with it. Together, they then cut northeast and departed. Tracing upstream, I descended to the west, where another stream approached from the north. Then, coming from the west, I climbed a ridge. The trail was quite steep. I ascended north for six or seven li, then turned west. Next, to the north, mounted and ascended for five or six li, climbed two peaks, and reached their apex, called Arrow Shaft Ridge [Jiangan Ling]. From Sand River, I climbed mountains, waded across rivers, then twisted and threaded through mountain valleys. Every place I encountered was earthen hills and desolate mounds. I never thought that when I reached here, I would suddenly be mounting a vaulted dome.³ Yet south of the ridge, everything remained simple, as before.⁴ But once I passed north of the ridge, I looked down to the east and west, where the peaks are linked, and cliff walls are crumbling, adorned with lush-green vegetation and flowing streams of vermilion. Those that whirl in the air, ring around, and glitter are rocks, all covered with trees. The rocks are uniform in color, but in spirit and texture, each is alluring. The trees are different in color, but in intricacy and complexity, they form a brocade. The rocks with trees, jutting and jagging, pitched and precipitous, like a screen, are covered with a gilded embroidery that makes them even more extraordinary. The trees with rocks, sideways and extending outward, inverted and coiling round, seem especially ancient because they protrude boldly. It was like this for fifty li. Then I descended directly to the base of a large, earthen mountain, where a spring rushed through a gulch, surging from the south to the north. In due course, I followed the spring and came out at the entrance to a col. This is called Dragon Valley Gap [Longyu Kou]. A stronghold looks down on it from above.

Since Xu Xiake would have had to cross the Great Wall before reaching Dragon Valley Gap, his failure to mention passing the largest man-made structure on the planet may seem odd to the modern reader. We should not forget, however, that Xu’s primary motivation to travel was to visit places where he could observe and experience pristine and surpassing (sheng) scenic environments. Man-made objects—even the Great Wall of China—did not interest him enough to merit mention in his diary.

The village is thriving, with an abundance of plum and apricot trees planted, forming a forest that covers the foot of the mountain. When I came out of the valley, I next found level land. To the north, the level land is ringed by more mountains along its periphery. Stretching far into the distance, they also move from east to west. To the east, I was thirty li from Yunyuan Subprefecture; to the west, I was seventy li from Ying Subprefecture.⁵ The way that Dragon Valley Gap overlooks the periphery, where sights are distant and faraway places are nearby, is the same way East Base Mountain looks down at the various heights at the mouth of Sand River Gorge [Shahe Xia]. Hence, following the mountains toward the east, I gazed east of Dragon Valley, where the mountains become more rugged and precipitous, steeper and more severe. I asked and found out these heights were Dragon Mountain [Longshan]. As for the name Dragon Mountain, the old books locate it in Shanxi, but I did not realize that it stands shoulder to shoulder with Heng, the Sacred Mountain.⁶ Reaching here, not only have I forded into its inner precincts, but also to the north, I now survey its face and eyes. This visit to Dragon Mountain was coincidental. As it turns out, it should thus be regarded as a side benefit of my visit to the western part of Mount Wutai. Proceeded east for ten li and came to Big Cloud Monastery [Dayun Si] on Dragon Mountain. The southern side of the monastery faces the mountain.

Given Mount Heng’s remote location in northern Shanxi, relatively few sightseers probably reached there before Xu Xiake’s lifetime. This situation had changed, however, by the late Ming when tourism in China flourished. As he approaches the mountain, Xu reports seeing “carriages and horses in endless procession.” No doubt they were moving sightseers to and from the mountain.

Proceeded east for another ten li to where the main road goes northwest, directly to the foot of Mount Heng. So I broke off our trail and followed the road, still ten li from the foot of the mountain. I gazed at the mountain’s two peaks, spanning aloft, through which came carriages and horses in endless procession, looking as if they were breaking through a wall. This was the main road from Datong Prefecture into Backwards Horse [Daoma] and Redbud [Zijing].⁷ I followed it and reached the area below the mountain. The walls of the two precipices stand erect; a mountain stream flows between them. I made my way through a rock crack and passed into the mountain. The passageway was narrow and cramped and did not seem to go anywhere. It twists, cuts, ascends, and then descends in gentle and graceful curves. Twin Peaks on Yi’s Watchtower and the Nine Bends at Mount Wuyi fall short compared to this scene. This was the dry season when the clear stream here had not yet filled, so I traced the stream. I am not sure what year it was when clefts were cut into both of the rocky precipices. They are four or five feet wide and reach one rod in depth. Above and below, the clefts are well-arranged and orderly. I guess lengths of wood were inserted into the clefts to make a plank walkway for when the water overflows, which have long since been abandoned. All that remains are two supporting lengths of wood, hanging high above which, like a ridgepole, stick out like thumbs. After I turned three times, the gorge became increasingly narrower while the cliffs became increasingly higher. Halfway up the western cliff, where rows of lofts hang high, where curved pavilions incline and come to rest, and when you gaze at them, they seem like giant clams spitting out layers of terraces—this is the Poised in Midair Monastery. The northern canyon at Mount Wutai also has a Poised in Midair Monastery, but compared with this one, it is not as comprehensive in design. My spirit soared when I looked at it, drumming up my courage to climb to it alone. When I got up there and went in, lofts and belvederes descended from above, and paths with railings twisted and turned. Since the precipices stand so sheer, they rank as a huge wonder in the empire, while at the same time, the adornment and embellishment of the monastery bring this surpassing scene to perfection. As for those structures I have seen built against crags, this one is not hampered by craggy rock walls. The positioning and placement of the monk’s cells are appropriate and orderly. In general, guests are provided accommodations in Buddhist shrine chambers, with bright windows and warm couches in spaces measuring less than a rod. Everything is elegant in this solemn scene.

After descending, I proceeded into a gorge, where I made three or four turns and then came to an expansive cavern entrance, through which tors and canyons are now hidden, now in view. This seemed to be a unique world. Proceeded for another li. There are three gates in succession east of the stream; above is a gate with a name board bearing a horizontal inscription aligned high up on an earthen mound. Below the gates are several hundred stone steps in levels that connect with the gates. This is the mountain gateway to the Temple of Mount Heng, the Sacred Mountain in the North [Beiyue Hengshan Miao]. I was still ten li from the temple. Everywhere on the left and right are earthen hills in tiers and terraces, but the Sacred Mountain’s summit was only a blur in the distance. I stopped for the night at the home of some locals on the gateway’s flank, where I planned to climb to the summit the next day.

Eleventh day [13 September]: The wind had wholly cleansed the sky, which was now clear blue, looking like it had just been washed. Leaning on my walking stick, I climbed the Sacred Mountain. Facing east, I ascended earthen ridges and shallow mounds, where there was no clambering or toiling from climbing. Presumably, Mount Heng comprises three folds of mountains that approach from Dragon Spring Pass. However, only the first fold of mountains from Dragon Spring is sheer and steep on the inner side, but beyond the pass, its earthen crests are flat and vast. Although the second fold from Mount Wutai is tiered and steep, its bone-like rocks are towering and upthrust, all where one exits the gorge around East Base Mountain. The third fold passes into the mountain from the entrance to a gorge and then goes north. To the west, it extends to the summit of Dragon Mountain; to the east, it reaches the southern side of Heng the Sacred Mountain. All its folds are also like concealed weapons and restrained swords.⁸ But as soon as they face north, peak after peak is steep and tapered, revealing each crag’s appearance.

Proceeded one li and then turned north, where coal is everywhere on the mountain. It is not deep in the ground. With just a little digging, one can immediately find some. Proceeded for another li to where the earth and rocks are both crimson. On the side of the trail, coiling pine trees stand side by side, leading to a pavilion called Expecting Transcendents [Wangxian]. Proceeded another three li to where the precipice rocks gradually rose, and shadows reflected through pine trees and sieved through the darkness. This place is named Tiger Wind Crossing [Hufeng Kou]. Hence, the rocky trail wound and looped around, and only then could I follow the precipice, mount the jagged cliffs, and ascend. Proceeded three li, where an outstanding commemorative archway says: “Number One Mountain of the North Quarter” (Shuofang diyi shan). Inside are local government offices, complete with a kitchen and well. From the right of the archway, I headed east and ascended a stairway. Halfway up the precipice is Sleeping Quarters Palace [Qin’gong].⁹ North of the palace is Flying Rock Grotto [Feishi Ku]. According to tradition, Mount Heng in Zhending Prefecture flew there from here.¹⁰ I ascended to the Sacred Mountain in the North Ceremonial Hall [Beiyue Dian]. Above, it shoulders a sheer cliff wall; below, it overlooks local government offices. Below the ceremonial hall, steps leading into the clouds poke into the sky, with portico gates above and below and groves of domed stelae standing erect. I ascended from the right of the ceremonial hall, where a rock grotto has been converted into a chamber. It is called Assembled Transcendents Terrace [Huixian Tai]. Inside are statues of a group of transcendents arranged in a circle without as much as a crack between them. I wanted to mount the dangerous precipice and climb to the ultimate summit, so I returned the way I came and passed east of the Sacred Mountain in the North Ceremonial Hall. From there, I gazed where two cliffs had broken off and where thick brush hung down for a thousand feet. Here, I found a bypath to climb to the summit. So I took off my jacket and, clambering and treading, began the climb. After two li, I came out on the top of a dangerous precipice. Looking up at the ultimate summit, it stood prominently, occupying half the sky. Flooding the mountain are short trees, dense and deep, along with uneven branches and dried bamboo, which were able to hook my clothing and prick my collar. But as I clambered and trampled on, the branches and bamboo invariably broke and snapped. And although I worked hard, using all my strength, it seemed as if I had fallen into great waves, where I tumbled and turned and could not get out. I drummed up more courage to ascend, and only after some time, when the thorns disappeared, did I make it to the summit. The moment I arrived, the sunlight was clear and beautiful. I looked down to the mountain’s north, where collapsed cliffs had randomly tumbled down, densely covered by a mix of trees. The earthen hills on this mountain have no trees. The rocky hills have trees, but all the rocks are on the north side. Thus, all the trees are to the north. One side of the Hunyuan Subprefecture wall is at the foot of the mountain. When you look down to the north, another fold of mountains, faint and far-off, stretches into infinity. To the south, there is only Dragon Spring; to the west, there is only Mount Wutai. Both blend harmoniously with the surrounding dense greenery.

Nearby is Dragon Spring’s western span. Its branching peaks connect to the east, standing shoulder to shoulder, side by side as if descending to guard the entrance to the desert below.¹¹ Not long afterward, descending from the western peak, I searched for the dangerous precipice that earlier had led me into the gorge. Looking down into the daunting depths, I dared not descend. Suddenly, I turned around and looked toward the east, where a man was meandering across the top of the mountain. So I again ascended to meet him and ask about the way down. He pointed to the pines and cypress trees in the southeast. Gazing at them, I pressed on. Then, during my ascent, I came to the summit of a dangerous precipice behind Sleeping Quarters Palace. As expected, soon afterward, I found a footpath, which to the south passes through a forest of pine and cypress trees. At first, I gazed from the top of the summit, where pines and cypresses are scallion green like garlic leaves and blades of grass. But when you reach here, their thick trunks seem to touch the sky. The pines and cypresses at Tiger Wind Crossing are no less than one hundred times greater in size than these. I directly descended through a crevice in the cliff, just to the right of Sleeping Quarters Palace. This is Flying Rock Grotto. I saw this defile when I had made my ascent earlier. It is only separated from the precipice by a mere sliver. I descended the mountain for another five li and emerged from the dangerous cliff at Poised in Midair Monastery. After another fifteen li, I reached the area beyond West Pass [Xiguan] in Hunyuan Subprefecture.

—Translated by James M. Hargett

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Source: “You Hengshan riji, Shanxi, Datong fu, Hunyuan zhou” (YJJZ, 1.133–38; YJ, 1.87–91).

1. 1  Mount Tai is Mount Wutai. Fanshi County is modern Fanshi Xian, Shanxi.

2. 2  Flat Mold (modern Pingxing Guan) and Wild Goose Gate [Yanmen Guan]are strategic mountain passes near Mount Heng.

3. 3  That is to say, a mountain shaped like a vaulted dome.

4. 4  Here, we encounter one of those rare and fascinating occasions when Xu Xiake mentions an account related to a historical figure to help delineate a landscape. “A-Meng” in the Chinese text—this name means something like “Simple Meng”—refers to Lü Meng (178–219), a military commander and strategist who served the state of Wu during the Three Kingdoms period. His supreme commander, Sun Quan (182–252), founder of the state of Wu, once encouraged Lü Meng to undertake a serious formal study of classical Confucian texts to gain knowledge that would complement his military skills. Lü did so and, in the process, succeeded beyond all expectations. Then later, when another Wu general named Lu Su (172–217) encountered Lü Meng, Lu Su was so impressed with Lü Meng’s newly acquired scholarly knowledge that he reportedly remarked: “He is no longer the ‘Simple Meng’ from Wu that he used to be.” Here Xu Xiake uses the term “A-Meng,” or “Simple Meng,” to describe the simple or one-dimensional landscape he spied “south of the ridge.”

5. 5  Ying Subprefecture is now modern Ying Xian, Shanxi.

6. 6  That is, Mount Heng.

7. 7  Backwards Horse and Redbud are names of mountain passes north of Tang County, Hebei.

8. 8  In other words, the peaks of the third fold are not high and pointy but instead sit low and seem restrained.

9. 9  This name probably refers to the sleeping quarters for residents or visitors to the temple or “palace.”

10. 10  Zhending Prefecture corresponds to modern Zhending in Hebei. The Mount Heng mentioned in this line should be distinguished from the Mount Heng visited by Xu Xiake in Hunyang. The matter concerning which of these two Mount Hengs is the historically legitimate Sacred Mountain in the North was controversial for centuries until 1661 when the Hunyang site was officially designated as the rightful Beiyue or the Sacred Mountain in the North. That Xu Xiake chose to visit Mount Heng in Hunyang was undoubtedly based on its outstanding scenery rather than any official designation for the mountain. As for the Mount Heng in Zhending “flying” from Hunyang, this is just one of several tales about the mountain and its mythic flight through space.

11. 11  This is probably a reference to the Gobi Desert, far to the northwest of Shanxi.