The annual Eid al-Adha is the biggest festival for Muslims, equal in importance to our Spring Festival, and having the privilege of catching up with the three-day holiday, Mr. Wu decided to take me to Turpan by car. Early in the morning of the 21st, we took dry food and headed south along the Tuwuda Expressway.
Jiaohe Ancient City is the first stop we plan and the one that Mr. Wu is most looking forward to. The temperature in Turpan on the day was 43 degrees Celsius, we arrived at the scenic spot near eleven o'clock, get off the car is a heat wave to greet, fortunately at that time cloudy, occasionally there is a sudden breeze blowing, the air is slightly stuffy, mixed with a smell of burning straw, compared to other well-known attractions in Turpan, Jiaohe Ancient City belongs to a relatively niche place, there is no touristy hustle and bustle.
The ancient city was built on a loess platform tens of meters high, because the river diverted around the city, so it was called Jiaohe City, which was once the capital of cheshiguo, one of the thirty-six countries in the western region. After years of war, it eventually became a ruin that stretched for 360,000 kilometers. After thousands of years of ups and downs, the world has long been integrated with the loess.
The world's largest city of raw earth architecture, overlooking the bottom like a willow leaf, all the buildings are built of yellow raw soil, the city's official offices, adjacent to the city, Buddhist temples and pagodas can be seen everywhere, and there are fortress trenches interspersed among them, the roads crisscross the road, the streets and alleys are narrow and deep, the deeper you go into it, the more you feel like a huge labyrinth that can never be walked out. The narrow path was surrounded by the broken arms of the city wall, so quiet that only the sound of one's own breathing remained.
Although the well-preserved capital is due to the arid and rainy climate, the city has long been difficult to find signs of life, and the traces of the rope to fetch water on the reels in the courtyard are impressive, recording the daily dependence of ordinary people on water. Only on the slopes of the soil along the way, occasionally see a cluster of green "camel thorns", although some of the roots have begun to wither, but still tenaciously in the arid loess to extract new green; there is a plant called "wild watermelon", not afraid of the heat and dry, green leaves spread in a bare open space, the fruit is the size of a fingernail, dried and brewed with white wine, it is said to be a special medicine for the treatment of rheumatoid arthritis.
Not far away, on top of a broken and broken wall, two strangely shaped ruins attracted our attention: it seemed to be a section of the wall that was badly damaged, due to the burning of the war and the continuous wind and sand invasion, they could not see their original appearance for a long time, but only two closely connected broken walls, such as two dry and thin camels, kissed each other, it turned out that this was the famous "kiss of the river"! They seem to have forgotten time, and they seem to be forgotten by time, and they stand silently, as if there were only each other in their eyes. Marvel at the magic of nature, carefully carved over the years, with this touching kiss, warm the eternal desolation, soothe the history and the trauma left by the war to the city.
Near noon, the scorching sun soon became clear and the temperature rose significantly. On both sides of the wooden boardwalk at the end of the main road to look into the distance, under the sunlight, the earth-yellow building, at this moment it has become a piece of ivory, emitting a mysterious and holy light, above the high and low ruins and broken walls, the original yellow and yellow ravine lines, suddenly clearly visible, as if turning over a thick title page of history, began to tell humorously, a series of deep and deep crisscrossed paths, what kind of camel bells once collided, merchants flocked, those merchants dressed in their respective national costumes, how to put large bags of spices, Through this place, goods were transported to more distant countries; how prosperous and lively the city was, how the people were comfortable and rich, who worked regularly every day, worshiped in the stupas, lit torches at night, danced in the square to the cheerful rhythm of tambourines and rewafu, and the children's frolicking and the laughter of the adults resounded through the silent night sky... Not long after, the sunlight was obscured by the clouds, so that the light in the city dimmed, as if she had changed her tone and began to look back with sadness, how the war had burned this place, and the once brilliant and colorful life, as well as the subjects, monarchs, and warhorses who had fallen in a pool of blood with the warriors, were forever buried under the loess, whimpering and mourning the devastation after the smoke had slowly dissipated, quietly guarding the last appearance of the homeland with their own gradually atrophied bones and organs.
Whether or not we can understand the ancient national wars and political strife today, this "world's most perfect ruin" has not been over-repaired or deliberately covered up, but has truly preserved the original appearance of a period of history. Like a book in the great library of human civilization, its cover is broken and the page is missing, but it can still guide us to brush away the thick dust on it, and gradually unveil a brilliant history along the intermittent clues.
All the ruins are the thick ashes left by the fire of civilization that burned long or short, and the regret that it can no longer be restored is precisely what makes it moving.