In the morning mist of Hohhot's old city, Dazhao Temple stands like an old man draped in a crimson cassock, quietly guarding the secrets of the fusion of grassland and Buddhism. Stepping through the mountain gates, the mundane world is instantly separated by the vermilion walls. The aroma of incense and butter washes away the dust of travel, like a cup of piping hot milk tea, washing away the dust of travel. The first breath of astonishment is the Silver Buddha Hall: a statue of Sakyamuni, cast from 30,000 taels of pure silver, features downcast brows. The patterns on the lotus pedestal are softly shadowed by the light, as if a gentle breath would cause compassion to overflow from the silver light. Two golden dragons coiled upward, their whiskers almost touching the beams. Their scales gleamed coldly in the gloom, like lightning striking the grassland night sky, frozen in time by the craftsman. The mural gallery is another dimension, where the robes of flying figures painted with mineral pigments still carry a gentle breeze. The clink of horse hooves, chanting, and camel bells from centuries past are locked within the mottled hues; with a touch of your fingertips, you can smell the scent of dried sand and grass mingled with the paint. If you witness a lama debating, their crimson robes flow like a surging tide, the drumming of the bell and wooden fish resonates deeply in your heart, even your breathing slows to the rhythm. Young lamas, clutching scriptures, run through the corridors, their steps as brisk as spring lambs, giving the ancient temple a sudden, beating heart. Exit the temple gates, turn down an alley, and you'll find Saishang Old Street. Your nostrils, freshly scented with the aroma of ghee, are instantly infused with the milky fragrance of freshly baked yogurt cakes and the coarse, salty, and savory texture of air-dried beef, as if you've fallen directly from a Buddhist land to a prairie bonfire. At that moment I realized that the charm of Dazhao Temple has never been its grand scale, but the way it blends faith and fireworks, silver Buddhas and iron lions, Sanskrit sounds and shouts into the same breeze - blowing across the grassland and into the heart.