Wuling Mountains Photography Collection

Author: Chai Huanbo (Photographer)
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2004-09-01
Features: Seeking Poetic Essence in the Passage of Time (Preface)
Volume 1
At the western edge of the Dongting Lake Plain, there is a series of ancient ruins from the Chu-Han period and earlier. Much of my archaeological career has been spent there. Whenever the long rain finally cleared, standing atop the ruins and gazing west, the vast mountain range presented a clear silhouette: peaks competing in beauty, layers of green merging into blue. This was the Wuling Mountains, historically inhabited by the "barbarians." Later, fate brought me closely tied to this mountain range, leading me through its hinterland—villages, small towns, mountain paths, and riverbanks. I climbed its summits, watching the clouds gather and disperse, searching for the epic of this land since ancient times.
The Wuling Mountains, located at the intersection of Hunan, Hubei, Chongqing, and Guizhou, are dense with forests and bamboo groves, timeless and eternal. "The misty and miasmic paths of Xizhou, with peach and plum blossoms like fog at the riverbank," as described by ancient poets, paint a haunting picture of the Wuling Mountains. The Eastern Han general Ma Yuan called it "a place where birds dare not fly and beasts dare not tread," while Li Jifu of the Tang Dynasty remarked, "the mountains and rivers are so obstructed that they are beyond human reach." The impassable mountain passes endowed this land with an air of mystery.
The name "Wuling" likely originated in the Warring States period, as evidenced by the Qin dynasty inscriptions from Liye. During the Han dynasty, this mountain range was referred to as Qian Mountain, Wushen Mountain, Wushan, and Wuling Mountain. In the fifth year of Emperor Gaozu of Han, Wuling Commandery was established, solidifying the name "Wuling Mountains." The Wuling Mountains had been densely populated since the Shang and Zhou dynasties. It was an ancient source of cinnabar, and the large demand for mercury in the metallurgical industry during the Shang and Zhou periods brought this resource great attention, perhaps marking the beginning of its exploitation.
The earliest documented inhabitants of this mountain range were the Pu people, who fought against the tyrant Zhou in the late Shang dynasty and later paid tribute of cinnabar to the Zhou dynasty. They were later known as the Lao and Gelao people. During the pre-Qin period, the Miao and Man people, as well as the ancient Yue and Ba people, entered this land and made it their home. In the deep ravines and valleys, they maintained their own territories, ruling themselves and aligning with or defying the rise and fall of dynasties. From the mid-Warring States period onward, the struggle between Qin and Chu became the main theme of Chinese history. Beyond the major transportation routes like the Yangtze and Han rivers, the ancient salt road crossing the Wuling Mountains—Xi River—became a strategic advantage for Qin to "gaze down upon Jing and Chu."
In June 2002, the stunning discovery of Qin dynasty inscriptions in the ancient city of Liye along the Xi River attracted worldwide attention, reigniting the legend of the "Two Xiuyu Libraries." No one had expected that this obscure mountain town would have been a focal point in Chinese history at some point; no one had imagined that the Wuling Mountains, which had been silent for millennia, once echoed with the clamor of banners and drums.
Traveling down the Xi River, at the confluence of the Xi and Yuan rivers in the ancient city of Yaotou in Yuanling, many scholars still believe it to be the seat of the Chu-Qianzhong Commandery. At that time, the Qianzhong region was a military stronghold guarding against Qin and Ba invasions. The official posts and inns by the river were bustling with soldiers, merchants, and people of all trades. Among them was a exiled poet, "wearing a long dagger, with a towering hat adorned with clouds, dressed in the moonlight, and adorned with precious jade."
In the first year of King Qinxian of Chu (298 BCE), Qu Yuan, at the age of fifty-six, was exiled to the south after being slandered. He arrived at the mouth of the Yuan River via land from the eastern part of Dongting Lake and traveled upstream. He passed through this very place. As if by magic, a Miao girl followed the waterway Qu Yuan once traveled, floating along the Xi River or vanishing into the mountains, with the dilapidated General Ma Yuan Temple in the twilight. In the wind, I reread "Passing the Jiang River," letting the landscape and the verses intertwine. Some scenes struck me deeply, piercing my heart. The white flowers by the river at dusk were so pure, just like when Qu Yuan first saw them—wasn’t this the "Osmanthus and Orchid" mentioned repeatedly in "Encountering Sorrow"? These fragrant herbs, since ancient times, have been imbued with poetic beauty. Since they once resonated with the human heart, they must connect with it once more.
The establishment of dynastic rule in the Wuling Mountains began during the Chu-Han period, but the reach of power was limited to key transportation routes, and the relationship with the dynasties remained loose. Most of the region was inhabited by local tribes. The "Waterways of the States" noted, "The Wuling Mountains have five streams—the Xiong, Tong, Xi, Yuan, and Chen—all inhabited by the descendants of barbarians." The deep and treacherous ravines of the Wuling Mountains made them easy to disturb but difficult to control. The Miao people’s influence was fierce, trade was blocked, and neighboring tribes encroached, making the Wuling Mountains a perpetual headache for successive dynasties. From the Chu king’s campaign against the Pu people, Ma Yuan’s suppression of the barbarians, the Battle of Xizhou, to the Qing dynasty’s suppression of the Miao people, the struggle between feudal expansion and local resistance, unity and separatism, permeated the entire history of the Wuling Mountains. Even the name "Wuling" evokes memories of bloodshed and turmoil.
Following the gaze of history, a figure comes to life before my eyes—the Eastern Han general Ma Yuan. Supported by Emperor Guangwu, the old general risked an upstream march to Houtou Mountain along the Yuan River. At Qinglang Beach, the swift currents made it impossible to advance, and he encountered the Five Rivers barbarians blocking his path from above. "The Wuxi River is so deep, birds dare not fly and beasts dare not tread. Alas, the Wuxi is full of poison and miasma," Ma Yuan lamented in despair. Along the banks of the Yuan River, golden rapeseed flowers bloomed, water birds flew low, and no trace of that time remained. The Qinglang Beach of today is a reservoir, no longer the stream it once was, and Houtou Mountain has lost its former height. I searched for the stone chambers Ma Yuan used as shelter from the heat, but only the scorching sun of June and the thorny bushes remained. In his dying eyes, he must have seen the iron horses and icy rivers he longed for in his dreams.
During the Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties, the Wuling Mountains, like most of southwestern China, entered the era of local tribal rule. Yongshun’s Old Chief’s City stands as a testament to this history. Over the years, I have returned to the old chief’s city where I once conducted archaeological excavations. Each time I stepped onto the white wooden bridge over the Lingxi River, I felt a sense of belonging. This mountain village, little touched by modern civilization, still retains its essence. Though the forests are not as dense as in history, the rows of pine trees on Fushi Mountain peak still resemble their former glory. The streams remain, reflecting the green of the mountains in their deep blue waters during winter. The village is filled with old black-tiled wooden houses. Walking across the ruins of the Golden Hall, the ancestral palace of the local chief, the biting mountain wind and the vast, desolate sky evoke endless reflections on the past.
During those days, I lived in the wooden building of the Ancestral Hall of the local chief, from whose window I could gaze at the "return of ten thousand horses" mountain formations and read the genealogy of the local chiefs and newly unearthed epitaphs under the dim light. High mountains, misty clouds, clear streams—sometimes a sudden gust of wind rises from the rear of the mountain. Peng Yingnan led his tribal soldiers to defeat the Japanese invaders in my hometown in Zhejiang. During his campaign, Wang Yangming debated with Peng the tribal chief in the tent. The images and laughter of those who passed through intertwined with the landscapes and times I had experienced, giving me a visceral connection to history.
Finally, the great bell of history shattered the pastoral dream of the last tribal chiefs. As the Qing dynasty grew stronger, it initiated a political reform called "changing tribal rule to centralized administration" in the regions under tribal control. The gaiety of the ancestral palace turned into an elegy for the fall of the state. In the "uncivilized Miao" areas of the Wuling Mountains, a period known as "opening up the Miao frontier" began, which was in reality marked by slaughter and bloodshed. After the rain, at the Yabao Fortress, the vast ruins still stood, the sky vast, and beneath it, something ancient and desolate. On December 24, 1794, dozens of people, including Shi Liudeng, Shi Sanbao, Wu Ba, Wu Longdeng, and Yang Guo’an, took an oath of blood, marking the beginning of the Qianlong-Jiaqing Miao Rebellion. Though eventually suppressed, the rebellion left the Miao frontier in ruins, "destroying their houses, slaughtering their young and strong, capturing their old and young, leaving no one in the entire village," as recorded in the "Guizhou General Gazetteer."
Standing atop the ancient city of Huangsiqiao, peering through the battlements, parapets, and loopholes, I gaze at the pale roads and hills around me, filled with the imagery of swords and daggers. Looking at the bustling Miao frontier wall, I read the weight and sorrow of history.
Volume 2
Amid the towering peaks and deep valleys of the Wuling Mountains, winding mountain roads appear every few or several dozen miles, revealing secluded basins or clusters of villages nestled by mountains and rivers, surrounded by dense forests. Despite their dramatic history, these places are often tranquil. They were once the "remote frontier lands beyond the Nine Provinces," where "sages listened to nature’s call, avoiding distant lands and refusing tribute." Here, people practiced slash-and-burn agriculture, believed in gods and spirits, and lived in isolation. As recorded in the "Cili County Gazetteer," "Beyond Maohua Boundary, the local people did not know the cycles of the solar terms, cleared land without boundaries, had no litigious people, no disputes, no village agreements or mutual surveillance systems, and no officials or soldiers knocking on doors. They lived on ferns and wisteria, raising bees for a livelihood. Those who lived there and stayed there seemed like scenes from the time of Xi Huang."
For millennia, the people of these mountains have maintained a modest yet comfortable life, relying on favorable weather and natural economies, with lifestyles passed down through generations—essentially the basic units of the "ancient rural commune." These villages used dense shrubs like thorns, brambles, and hawthorns to build outer defenses, surrounding stone walls with thorns to protect their crops and prevent invasions by enemies. In historical records, these were called "dongs" or "xiadongs."
Since the Shang dynasty, people’s fear of corvée labor led them to flee to the deep forests and bamboo groves of the south. After the Wei and Jin dynasties, the common people of the Central Plains, unable to bear taxes and wars, followed this ancient road into Qianzhong. Thus, the Wuling Mountains, with its mountainous terrain and rugged roads, beyond the reach of successive dynasties, became a refuge for the displaced people of the Central Plains.
The fragmented landscape of the Wuling Mountains lacked the conditions for a unified civilization, and for a long time, social development stagnated at the late stage of primitive society. The Pu people, the Miao, Yue, and Ba people who later entered this land, had their cultures little impacted by others. The ethnic groups lived in harmony yet remained separate, preserving their own languages, traditions, religions, and rituals, creating a colorful tapestry of coexisting cultures—a treasure trove for anthropologists and ethnologists. Their rise and fall form a captivating human story.
"The southern part of Chu’s Yingshi, between the Yuan and Xiang rivers, has a folk custom of believing in ghosts and engaging in sacrifices. Their sacrifices involve songs, music, and dances to please the gods." (Wang Yi’s "Commentary on the Chu Ci") "The Chu people believe in shamans and ghosts and hold numerous sacrificial rites." (Geographic Records of the Han Dynasty) These rich ancient cultural phenomena are still evident in the religious and sacrificial rituals of some areas in the modern Wuling Mountains.
The "Nuo ritual" dates back to ancient times. "Nuo means to drive away." "One day before the Lao festival, there is a grand Nuo, called the 'driving away of plagues.'" The name and form of the ritual both signify driving and chasing away. During the Han dynasty, the Nuo ritual became an annual ceremony for all officials and common people. By the Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties, the court Nuo ritual was gradually replaced by other ceremonies, but its form and function spread to the, merging with the original folk rituals of expelling evil and the rites of Taoism and Buddhism, forming the current "folk Nuo" in the Wuling Mountains.
Eating the "gushi" (bull sacrifice) is the largest and most solemn ritual in the Miao region. Historical records show that the custom of sacrificing bulls among the Han people can be traced back to the Shang dynasty, an era of ghost worship and shamanism. At that time, almost all rituals to expel disasters, present captives, pray for good harvests, or honor mountains and rivers involved the use of bulls. During the reign of Wu Ding, the largest number of bulls used in a single sacrifice reached "three hundred units" or "five hundred bulls." Since the Western Han dynasty, with the establishment and strengthening of Confucianism’s dominance in thought, the bull sacrifice, belonging to the realm of shamanism, was suppressed and forbidden in the folk. Yet, among the Miao people of the Wuling Mountains, it was preserved intact, with various theological and mythological interpretations given to it.
The "tuma" is the core of Tujia religious rituals. Tujia villages usually have a "Bashoutang" (Hand-Shaking Hall), with a large open space in front for collective religious ceremonies. The master of the rituals is the tuma. One important ritual of the tuma is the Maogusi dance, which mimics the labor life of ancestors—clearing land, farming, fishing, and hunting. Recognized as the oldest shamanistic drama, it is a living fossil of ancient social life.
These ancient cultural phenomena, in addition to the rituals and religious customs mentioned above, are also reflected through material carriers such as unearthed artifacts, architecture, and clothing patterns.
At the Wuling Watchtower, the ruins of the vast temple unearthed 7,000 years ago depict pottery patterns with themes of tigers and birds. The presence of tigers in the Wuling Mountains was a harsh reality, with herds of tigers posing a significant threat to human survival. In this gaping maw, the terrifying memory of ancient humanity was. The totem of the tiger became prominent in the Warring States and Han dynasties, with tiger-shaped knobs as the most significant, and it persists in the folk custom of the Tujia people’s white tiger worship.
The worship of the phoenix is recorded in full in the "Post-Han Records." "After Panhu’s death, the people married each other, wove clothing from tree bark, dyed it with grass seeds, and loved colorful clothes with tails—each piece was tail-shaped. The people of Wuling Commandery are descendants of Panhu." This colorful clothing, with its "tail shape," is a depiction of the phoenix’s form. The patterns and colors preserved in the clothing of the Miao and Dong ethnic groups in the Wuling Mountains originate from this ancient spiritual belief and embody the dreams of generations who longed to fly.
The unique ancient architecture of the Wuling Mountains is characterized by dry-lane houses, also known as "ge lan" style. Historical records describe, "People lived in multi-story houses, climbing ladders to ascend, called 'gan lan' (dry-lane)." "On cliffs without structures, they were called 'ge lan' (elevated lane)." "They lived in rock crevices, relying on cliffs for height." (Comprehensive Atlas of the Great World) The wooden houses of the modern Dong people and the suspended houses of the Tujia people are their living fossils.
Living in a Miao village, I sometimes took naps under the wind bridge in the morning or lay in the stream at dusk, gazing at the sky of my childhood. The elders of the village told me that one year, a dragon crossed the mountain peak, and when someone shouted in surprise, the children fearfully hid inside their homes. Surrounded by high mountains, the people naturally developed a reverence for "floating clouds." The first time I saw a swarm of butterflies flying in the sunlight among the forests, I realized that the "maple tree" and "mother butterfly" in the origin myths of this nation were deeply intertwined with daily life. The mists on the mountain peaks changed, and the rain at the mountain waist...