A County’s Pride: Discovering Liao-Era Architectural Masterpiece (II)

In this second half of our feature on Liao-era architecture, we’ll uncover how the lesser-known Gaoyuan Temple and other Liao structures embody cultural continuity, meticulous craftsmanship, and the enduring legacy of China’s architectural heritage.

Transcript

A County’s Pride: Discovering Liao-Era Architectural Masterpiece (II)

In this second half of our feature on Liao-era architecture, we’ll uncover how the lesser-known Gaoyuan Temple and other Liao structures embody cultural continuity, meticulous craftsmanship, and the enduring legacy of China’s architectural heritage.

One day at the end of February 2025, as Rong Peng was using a laser pointer to give a tour inside the Main Hall of Kaishan Temple in the city of Gaobeidian, Hebei Province, a visitor stared at him for a long moment and politely asked, “Are you the swimming director?” Rong smiled and nodded: “Now everyone in the country knows I can swim – you can’t be a cultural heritage director if you can’t swim.”

That incident has since become the temple’s most famous contemporary “anecdote.” In early August 2023, floods hit Hebei, and Kaishan Temple faced the worst danger on record. Water in the courtyard rose to 2.5 meters, spilling over the platform and seeping through the doors into the Main Hall. At the time, residents of Xincheng had been evacuated and safety lines set up. Rong Peng, director of the Kaishan Temple Cultural Heritage Protection Office, arrived to find the courtyard submerged. Without hesitation, he stripped off his clothes and swam toward the hall.

“I thought, if the hall gets flooded, even if I have to use a dipper, I’ll bail the water out,” Rong recalled to The Context a year and a half later. After the water receded, the door panels had swollen, and he struggled to push them open. Inside, a layer of mud remained. With the town’s power cut off, he borrowed a friend’s electric vehicle, connected it to power, and used pumps and other equipment to clear the silt.

Sun Guoliang, deputy director of Gaobeidian’s Cultural and Tourism Bureau, who accompanied him, recorded a video of Rong swimming into the hall. The clip went viral online, with “Cultural Heritage Director Swims into Hall” trending on social media. Rong suddenly became a celebrity, and Kaishan Temple gained widespread recognition. Many visitors today still remember the news and can instantly spot the black watermarks left on the hall doors.

After the floodwaters receded, the Kaishan Temple Cultural Heritage Office immediately began inspections and repairs, which lasted over a year. The most severely damaged elements were the floor tiles inside the hall, all of which were replaced, and the entire courtyard was thoroughly renovated. The left door panel, swollen from water absorption, still cannot be fully opened; even today, its moisture content remains seven times the normal level. Only after it dries completely can a restoration plan be devised.

The eight surviving Liao structures are scattered across the former Liao territory, with Kaishan Temple being the southernmost and located in a region that was politically very unstable at the time. Its survival to the present day is therefore remarkable. Xu Yitao, professor at the School of Archaeology and Museology at Peking University, explains that Liao architecture can be roughly divided into two stages. In the later stage, cultural exchange between the Liao and Song increased, and Liao structures began showing signs of influence from Song architecture. During this period, Xincheng briefly became an important hub for transport and trade along the Song-Liao border, and Kaishan Temple reflects the political, economic, and military conditions of that frontier.

The Khitan people were originally a nomadic group living in the upper Liao River region in the northeast. In 907, as the aging Tang Dynasty entered its final year, Yelü Abaoji unified the eight Khitan tribes and established the Liao state. While central China experienced the political turmoil and frequent dynastic changes of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period, Khitan forces expanded aggressively southward, occupying the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun, covering present-day Beijing, northern Tianjin, northern Hebei, and northern Shanxi.

As a nomadic people, the Khitan followed a seasonal migratory pattern. Accordingly, the Liao Dynasty established five capitals. They were in Balin Left Banner in Inner Mongolia, Ningcheng in Inner Mongolia, Liaoyang in Liaoning Province, Beijing, and Datong in Shanxi Province. The Liao rulers were devout Buddhists and built numerous high-ranking temples in and around the five capitals. The surviving large Liao temples are all located near these capitals, so visiting the eight Liao structures today roughly traces a circuit through the Liao heartland.

Of the eight Liao structures, three are in Shanxi, near the Liao western capital of Datong. Huayan Temple and Shanhuasi are both in Datong city. The Pagoda Hall of Huayan Temple was built in 1038, while the date of Shanhuasi’s Main Hall is unknown. Datong suffered warfare at the end of the Liao Dynasty, leaving only a few Liao structures intact in the city.

About 60 kilometers from Datong, in Yingxian, stands the legendary Yingxian Wooden Pagoda. This octagonal wooden tower, approximately 67 meters tall, represents not only the pinnacle of surviving Chinese timber construction but also one of the world’s greatest achievements in wooden architecture. Built in the mid-to-late Liao period in 1056, Liang Sicheng described it as “a brilliant conclusion to the majestic and vigorous period of architecture.”

In June 2024, the protection units of the eight Liao structures gathered at Fengguo Temple in Yixian to establish the “Liao Wooden Architecture Alliance.” Also attending were the protection units of two Tang-era buildings: Foguang Temple and Nanchan Temple on Mount Wutai. Yu Fenglei, director of the Cultural Tourism Development Service Center in Yixian, Liaoning, said the alliance’s long-term goal is to nominate “Chinese Wooden Architecture from the 8th to early 12th Century” for World Heritage status, encompassing representative structures from the Tang, Five Dynasties, Liao, and Song periods – the oldest and most refined examples of early Chinese timber architecture.

In recent years, public interest in ancient buildings has surged, and Fengguo Temple, isolated in the northeast, has seen a boom in tourism. Visitor numbers rose from 150,000 in 2021 to 350,000 in 2023, and reached over half a million visitors in 2024.

For Kaishan Temple and Geyuan Temple, how to manage public access is still being explored. By the end of last year, Kaishan Temple completed post-flood repairs and began trial openings. For many years, the temple’s heritage office had only two staff members; one more was added last year. Rong Peng, who has been pushing to open Kaishan Temple to visitors, said: “Formal opening requires security checks, guards, cleaning, and guided tours… our two or three staff members aren’t enough. But many people come because of the temple’s reputation, and we don’t want to close the doors, so we only open for five hours a day on a trial basis.”  

Rong Peng has served as the first director of Kaishan Temple’s Cultural Heritage Office since 2007, a tenure of 18 years. At the time, he was a 30-year-old young man who came to “guard the temple” out of his love for cultural relics. In his early years, he worked night shifts in a dilapidated room in the courtyard, sometimes waking to find scorpions falling from the ceiling onto his face. Only in recent years has his work environment improved.

Geyuan Temple, by contrast, has yet to be regularly opened to the public, making it the most mysterious of the eight Liao structures. In the southwest corner of Laishui County, Baoding, a deep bell sound can sometimes be heard. The sound comes from a courtyard at the foot of the ancient city wall, where a red iron bell hangs outdoors.

An Zhiming tapped the bell, producing a low, resonant hum that broke the silence of the courtyard. “Very solid,” he said with satisfaction. “But in the future, a pavilion should be built to protect it from rain.” An, 62, retired as director of the Laishui County Cultural Relics Office.

The bell is covered with more than 1,200 characters of inscription, revealing its casting date: the fourth year of the Liao Tianqing era (1114). It is the only Liao iron bell with a precise date and among the oldest iron bells in China. Because the inscription includes the characters “Flying Fox County,” it is also called the “Flying Fox Great Bell.” Over 900 years later, despite its rust-red exterior, the bell remains massive, sturdy, and incredibly durable.

For nearly a thousand years, the Flying Fox Great Bell has stood alongside Geyuan Temple. In 1959, the Wenshu Hall of Geyuan Temple was discovered by Professor Lu Sheng of Tianjin University and cultural relics workers from Hebei, becoming the last Liao timber structure to be found to date.

Until last year, the Laishui County Cultural Relics Office maintained its office inside Geyuan Temple in a small, roughly ten-square-meter replica-style side room located about 30 meters diagonally behind Wenshu Hall. An Zhiming worked in this tiny room for 25 years until his retirement. “Open the door and you can see Wenshu Hall. The courtyard is at least two degrees cooler than outside, so it’s comfortable in summer but extremely cold in winter,” he said. Shy by nature, An grew increasingly animated as he revealed the unique treasures of Geyuan Temple during his guided explanations.

Among the eight Liao structures, Wenshu Hall is slightly smaller, with only three bays, yet its construction is extraordinary. The materials used are massive, including two robust columns half a meter in diameter and exceptionally tall – more than sufficient to support a larger hall. Carbon-14 dating conducted by Tianjin University and Peking University confirmed that the two tall columns are made from Tang-era timber reused in the Liao period. Renowned architect Mo Zongjiang noted that Wenshu Hall is essentially built to the scale of a large pavilion hall, using materials comparable to the seven-bay Main Hall of Shanhuasi in Datong and the Yingxian Wooden Pagoda. This over-specification in materials makes Wenshu Hall remarkably strong; it has withstood multiple earthquakes and has never required a major reconstruction. The beams, columns, and brackets remain exactly as the craftsmen placed them centuries ago.

Why does such a modestly sized temple feature such high-spec construction? The Flying Fox Great Bell offers a clue. Its inscription mentions a prominent Liao-era monk, Master Zhenghui, who served as the spiritual advisor to two Liao emperors. An Zhiming said: “If Geyuan Temple produced a national master of the Liao Dynasty, that speaks to the temple’s importance.” 

Standing before Wenshu Hall, the full wall of intricately patterned window frames immediately draws attention. Two of the original Liao-era window frames are truly unique in the world. Their openwork patterns depict carefully designed shapes of Vajra staffs, ritual bells, treasure vases, and other esoteric symbols. Ding Yao noted a recent discovery last spring: seven of the openwork sections still contain tiny iron rings, likely used to hang small bells that would jingle in the wind. Most remarkably, the tadpole-like openwork patterns were identified as ancient Sanskrit characters. Ding Yao said: “You can still see many similar examples in Japan and the Korean Peninsula, but never in Liao-era buildings has architecture been used as a canvas like this – it’s truly extraordinary.” 

The legend of Wenshu Hall in Geyuan Temple goes far beyond its structural feats. The hall’s greatest secret lies within three of its walls. Today, the visible white walls are coated with Ming-era plaster, but from the base up to about one meter, the plaster has peeled away, revealing murals beneath. Mo Zongjiang, examining the exposed sections, determined that both the east and west walls feature four seated figures on large lotus pedestals, flanked by one standing figure on each side; each wall is roughly 15 meters wide and connects to the rear wall. The one-meter-high section originally supported the bases of Ming-era statues, only revealing a corner of the murals decades ago.

The most astonishing glimpse comes from the rear wall, where a strip of plaster roughly the width of a person has peeled downward from about two meters high. Like opening a blind box, the curtain is lifted to reveal the upper body of a figure, its gold-patterned garments glinting in the dim hall, displaying the strong “flowing sash” style characteristic of Tang-era art.

Mo Zongjiang said that “One can imagine that pairing two large-scale murals with the original central sculptural group, forming the hall’s main focus alongside the powerful brackets on all four walls, creates an effect rarely seen even in Dunhuang.”

These still-unveiled murals truly deserve their status as national treasures. An Zhiming carefully shines his phone light on the murals, remarking that the Ming-era plaster played a crucial role in their preservation. This layer of plaster unintentionally acted as a protective cover, preventing the murals from theft or destruction.

Geyuan Temple sits amid residential homes, hugging the west wall of the ancient city. Stepping into the courtyard, a refreshing coolness greets visitors as a gentle breeze passes through. Normally, only a single 24-hour on-duty preservation staff member and a yellow dog occupy the space; the liveliest times are when architecture students from universities come to study and inspect the site.

After retiring from the military in 1997, An Zhiming joined the Laiyuan County Cultural Management Office. Within a few years, Wenshu Hall at Geyuan Temple had gained growing recognition in academic circles, attracting multiple groups of university students each year. An followed every visit, asking questions and learning from scratch. On days without experts, he would pore over Mo Zongjiang’s paper Geyuan Temple Wenshu Hall, Laiyuan, reading it repeatedly for a full year. When he encountered something he didn’t understand, he would rise and open Wenshu Hall’s doors to observe the real structure. 

Architecture is not only engineering but also an art form. Outstanding buildings carry unique aesthetic value. Surviving Chinese ancient architecture expresses the worldview of its era through the combined elements of structure, sculpture, and painting. These meticulously planned and crafted spaces were designed to house not just the human body, but also the human spirit. The gaze of statues, the stories in murals, the play of sunlight and tree shadows, the symphony of bells and chimes, the drifting aroma of incense – all elements of the architectural space engage the senses, cultivating an ideal spiritual state intimately tied to culture.

Zhang Tianbo, director of the Laiyuan County Cultural Heritage Office, told The Context that: “Only in our county do we have a Liao-era building that other places envy. Geyuan Temple may be small, but it is filled with cultural treasures – this is our cultural resource.”

The temple’s Buddhist hall and iron bell not only record the history of Chinese architecture but also reflect pivotal moments in Liao history.

The bell is inscribed with auspicious words. “Long live Emperor Tianzuo, may princes and princesses live a thousand autumns… timely rains and favorable winds, the people safe and the country prosperous.” A single majestic iron bell seems capable of safeguarding the land forever. Yet, the year it was cast, Wanyan Aguda launched war against the Liao, establishing the Jin Dynasty the following year. Ten years later, Emperor Tianzuo was captured, and the Liao Dynasty fell to the Jurchen cavalry, with northern China switching to Jin-era chronology.

The day this bell was cast marked the twilight of the Liao Dynasty – though no one knew it then. The Liao people likely never imagined that this bell and this hall would endure a thousand years of wind and rain, their perfected aesthetics and extraordinary craftsmanship remaining timeless.

Well, that’s the end of our podcast on Liao-era architecture. Our theme music is by the famous film score composer Roc Chen. We want to thank our writer Ni Wei, translator Wang Yuyan, and copy editor Pu Ren. And thank you for listening. We hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please tell a friend so they, too, can understand The Context.