Introduction to the Ancient City Gate of Xiaoluan Village

The ancient city gate of Xiaoluan Village is relatively unfamiliar to many people, because this ancient city gate is located in a rural area in the suburbs of Xi’an. As an ancient building built in the Ming Dynasty, it is still very helpful for historical research and urgently needs maintenance and repair by the local government. Here is an introduction to the ancient city gate of Xiaoluan Village.

A small village, nestled in the green shade of Mount Zhongnan for thousands of years, has experienced prosperity and faded into the years; nothing has been left behind, except for a solitary north gate tower.

Thirty years of upheaval, earthen houses have been demolished, tall buildings have been erected, streets have been widened, and streams have been narrowed, but the only thing that has not been disturbed is this solitary north gate tower.

This is the second time I have seen her.

Last time I passed by, it was too hasty; this time I came on purpose, intentionally focusing on her.

More than twenty years ago, I was studying in a nearby town; in June and July, it was the season when villages along the Fenghui River took turns to hold the “July Ancient Fair”. Every day I would invite classmates or be invited by classmates to visit their homes. “Do you remember, at the entrance of Xiling Road, spending money like a gentleman…” Which classmate’s clever words did I hear.

That time I must have been going to Wengjia Village, after walking on a road that I often saw but had never walked before, the wheels only turned a few laps, and then a city gate appeared in front of me; without stopping, I drove past, and when I passed through the city gate tunnel, I found that there were two thick, rusty wooden city gates leaning on both sides.

At that moment, I felt that I was not riding a bicycle, but a white dragon steed; I also suspected that I would meet Guan Yu or Zhang Fei ahead; I was even more worried that as soon as I passed through the city gate, the wooden door behind me would suddenly creak shut, and I would never be able to return to my 1987.

On my way back to school, I took a different route; I forgot what I ate that day, but I remembered the imposing gate tower that was as strong as iron and as solid as copper walls.

According to my classmate Tian Ningbin, who was born and raised in this village and now works as a principal in a certain middle school, “The Luancun City Gate was built in the Ming Dynasty, rebuilt in the Qing Dynasty, and was damaged by drought in the 18th year of the Republic of China. A company commander surnamed Zhou from the Northeast Army led his troops to loot it. The city gate still has two holes, which were left by small artillery attacks. A fire broke out in 2014, and it was rebuilt in 2015.”

I came before her again on an afternoon in early autumn.

It had been raining for the past few days, washing the city gate tower clean and fresh, and it was a rare sunny afternoon with a bit of time.

She still stood there, but unlike the first time I saw her twenty years ago, a villager who had left home to make a fortune had funded the construction of an arrow tower on top of her. She was taller, more complete, even perfect.

But I didn’t like it, in my opinion, the added layer was like gilding the lily or adding a tail to a snake; I liked the sight of the setting sun and the rustling wild grass. If there was also a solitary smoke in the desert, it would be the most tragic.

I really have to thank the villager who was so kind and righteous, because of him, this not-so-common city gate, which has been left behind in the long river of time, will stand for a hundred years and a thousand years in the south mountain wind, by the Fenghui River; the mentality of a literary man is biased towards the beauty of imperfection.

The base of the gate tower is made of four layers of stone strips, a total of thirty pieces; not only are they of different lengths, but also of different widths, but they are arranged and combined into a unified horizontal line. The lines of the stone strips are rough and bold, which is suitable for the powerful and strong nature of the city gate; it is not afraid of floods or the impact of rolling hard wood and iron-rimmed wheels. Above the stone strips are large blue bricks, a total of seventy-two layers, with lime mortar seams, staggered bricks, and seams separating bricks; the horizontal seams form a line, the vertical seams are staggered, and the bricks interlock to form a whole.

The center is a gate tunnel, and above the gate tunnel is a crescent shape. The crescent moon is divided into six layers; the innermost and outermost layers are stacked with the smallest cross-section of bricks, and a layer with the largest area of the brick’s surface is used between the two layers. All three layers are separated by a single layer of the smallest cross-section of bricks in the middle; this makes it appear solemn and heavy.

The two doors must be made of oak wood from Mount Zhongnan; only oak wood from Mount Zhongnan is worthy of iron horses and can withstand flying arrows and knives. Fifteen centimeters thick, with five bars added behind, and two heart-through square woods in the middle of the door panel.

The outside of the door is covered with iron sheets; not a whole piece of iron sheet. Each door is divided into seven parts, the top and bottom parts are each twenty-five centimeters, and the remaining parts are divided into five sections, each section sixty centimeters.

The five-millimeter thick iron sheet is cut into eight-centimeter wide, fifty-centimeter long iron strips. Each iron strip is nailed to the door with nine copper coin-sized earth nails, and twenty-five iron strips are nailed to each sixty-centimeter section. At the joints of the two rows of iron strips, ten-centimeter wide iron sheets are used to cover the ends, and nine fist-sized iron nails are nailed on top.

This makes it an iron gate, no matter how sharp the knife or how sharp the arrow, it cannot harm it!

I wanted to find a bright arrowhead or a clear fire mark on the city gate, congratulations, there wasn’t any.

I have seen the city gates of Xi’an’s ancient city, with red paint and copper nails, a whole piece, fake enough to deceive tourists from the south who are just looking for excitement, but the truly defensive and combat-ready, truly awe-inspiring city gate is this one in Luancun; it’s just a pity that no one pays attention to its irreplaceable value in this regard.

In the grass at the corner of the wall inside the city gate tower, there lies a square stone with flowers and plants carved on one end. It has been lying here for over a hundred years, hasn’t it? Where was it going to be used? How come it was abandoned?

Not far from the outside of the city gate tower, there is a stone shaped like a carpenter’s ruler. Is this a mounting stone? It was not carved before the times changed and the years passed.

A shallow, half-sided river stagnates outside the city, a pool of stagnant water, I don’t know where it came from or where it will go? Is this the former moat?

On both sides of the city gate tower are houses with red brick high walls, and a pumpkin vine from one of the houses climbs over the wall and onto the corner of the gate tower.

A small yellow dog wanders aimlessly at the foot of the wall, seemingly searching for something, sniffing from time to time, running a few steps faster.

Two students, with their arms around each other, pass through the gate tunnel.

A pear tree, taller than the roof, with a hundred or so fruits, stands in the courtyard of a house outside the city.

Everything is calm and peaceful; the once billowing smoke, the soldiers resting under the setting sun, the fluttering battle flags pierced by arrows, have all disappeared, vanished into nothingness.

How many students seeking fame and fortune in the capital have passed under the gate tunnel, how many wanderers have never returned, how many soldiers with fiery hearts have passed by; how many farmers’ corpses have been sent out, how many brides under red veils have been welcomed in? The woman with white hair at the foot of the city wall who gazes north, her lifelong wait, is it for her husband who has gone to study, or for her only son who is struggling in the officialdom?!… No one knows, no one has recorded it, but she knows.

I understand why there is a place for burning incense at the foot of the wall outside the city, and why there are a few wisps of faint smoke curling up; this city gate tower, which has stood for hundreds of years, thousands of years, has a soul, it can communicate with the departed souls, it can bless this piece of land.

She is the loyal elder of this piece of land, silent and wise.

Make a wish, thirty years later; if I am well, you will still be here; I will come to visit you again with my grandson!

On the night of September 26th, 2017, in the autumn rain.