Revisiting Tianzhu Mountain
Thirty-two years later, returning to Tianzhu Mountain, the mountain's color remains the same indigo I remembered, like an ancient painting, its ink still wet, quietly sprawling between heaven and earth. The rocks remain as steep and jagged, standing tall in an ageless gesture. The mountain paths are deep and mossy, and walking along them distances the hustle and bustle of the world.
"Yiju B&B," a mountain retreat. The owner, Lao Lin, has spent half his life in business, having witnessed prosperity. Returning to his hometown in his twilight years, he builds his homestead with stone walls and offers mountain views from the windows. He lacks the shrewdness of a business world, but instead exudes the simple simplicity of a mountain dweller. He greets guests, refills tea and water, and speaks little, yet his warmth is like the sun shining on a doorstep on a winter day. This genuine warmth seamlessly connects with the impression I made thirty-two years ago, bringing a sense of peace.
Tianzhu Mountain is not a simple mountain. Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty ascended and worshipped the mountain, naming it "Southern Peak." Although Emperor Wen of the Sui Dynasty later designated Mount Heng as the Southern Peak, Tianzhu Mountain retains an imperial aura and a celestial spirit within its very being. It is a sacred site for Taoism and was once the site where Sengcan, the Third Patriarch of Zen Buddhism, preached his teachings. The silent rocks carry a millennium of cultural heritage and legends.
The highlight of this trip was revisiting the Mysterious Valley. It was truly a remarkable journey. Entering the valley, it felt like entering a maze of massive rocks. The path didn't meander around the rocks, but unfolded within them. Massive granite blocks piled, overlapped, and intertwined, forming countless caves, crevices, and narrow passages. One must duck, sidestep, climb, and maneuver through them. Sometimes it was pitch black, barely wide enough for one person to pass, forcing one to grope along the stone walls. Sometimes, after a sharp turn, a ray of light suddenly appeared overhead, casting a ray of light. Every step required caution, every moment filled with uncertainty. This process felt like a metaphor. When you finally emerge from Stonehenge, using your hands and feet to navigate the cramped terrain and perilous obstacles, the view opens up. Unprepared, the towering peak, the Pillar of Heaven, rises majestically before you! Its face is chiseled, its entire body perfectly rounded, reaching up to the sky. It exudes a sense of solitary, unwavering determination that no one else can match. In that moment, all the hardships melt into awe and relief.
Standing before the peak, a sudden feeling strikes me. Isn't this journey through the mysterious valley similar to the trek we're currently experiencing on this land? Finding a path amidst the maze of boulders, navigating dark, winding crevices, relying on wisdom passed down through generations and the courage to brave hardship, we move forward bit by bit, inch by inch, upwards. The journey is bound to be arduous, and even fraught with setbacks. But as long as we remain committed to that "pillar of heaven," we will eventually break free and embrace the most magnificent sky. The character of this mountain may be secretly containing the code for the revival of an ancient nation.