Summer at Prince Gong's Mansion: Discovering Serenity in the Folds of Time

Beijing in summer carries a solemn heat. On a day in June 2025, I stepped into Prince Gong's Mansion and unexpectedly stumbled upon a tranquil haven. The visitors were neither too sparse nor too crowded, as if an invisible hand had arranged them into a perfect string of beads. Even the sound of the copper bells hanging from the eaves, stirred by the summer breeze, carried a lazy charm. Here, there was no hustle and bustle of carriages, only the silent blooming of crape myrtle flowers atop the walls, as if time had pressed the "noise-canceling" button. · Hidden "World's Greatest Blessing" in the Verdant Depths Passing through the small bat-shaped doorway, the coolness of the Secret Cloud Cave greeted me. The "Fu" (Blessing) stone tablet, inscribed by Emperor Kangxi, leaned against the rock wall like a silent elder. The vigorous strokes of the inscription seemed to radiate an aura; it is said that Empress Dowager Cixi often came here to make rubbings and pray for blessings. Running your hand over the 129-centimeter-long stone surface, you might feel the century-old auspiciousness seeping through the ink marks. Outside the cave, bamboo shadows swayed, and the sounds of cicadas and pigeon whistles fermented in the air like aged Pu'er tea. · Time's Folds Before the Ancient Theater Turning past the "Fu" tablet, faint echoes of Beijing opera reached my ears. It turned out that the closed theater had moved its performances to the Pear Garden Theater. Beneath the red lacquered beams, young actors performed "Farewell My Concubine" with flowing water sleeves. A cat curled into a ball on the stone steps, occasionally scratching the green bricks with its claws, appearing more leisurely than the dramatic battles of Chu and Han on stage. As the performance ended, the setting sun spilled over the flying eaves, dyeing the "Shou" (Longevity) character on the shadow wall a honeyed hue. · A Preview of Lotus Pond Moonlight The lotus pond in the rear garden lived up to the season, with verdant leaves cradling half-open buds like a pool of jade cups filled with rouge wine. Koi occasionally leapt out of the water, shattering the mirror-like reflection of the Bat Hall's roof ridges. The breeze through the corridors carried the fragrance of lotus, turning visitors' garments into sails. Even the ferns in the stone crevices stretched their waists in the gentle tremor. · Discovering Serenity in Architectural Folds The most delightful surprises were hidden in the overlooked corners. The shaded area of the corridor at Duofu Pavilion. The climbing ivy east of the "Fu" tablet had already reached the gable roof, with light spots filtering through the leaves and dancing on the green bricks. Turning past the three courtyards, I suddenly saw the Taihu rocks at Tingyu Pavilion glistening with morning dew. Someone had tucked a sprig of mugwort into the rock crevices, its bitter aroma mingling with jasmine in the air. As dusk deepened, the last rays of sunset brushed over the brick carvings on the garden gate. Looking back, Prince Gong's Mansion resembled an open thread-bound book, and we were merely fleeting bookmarks. The unfinished stories—the untold blessings of Secret Cloud Cave, the makeup details during theater rehearsals, the architectural mysteries in the shadows of the rear building—quietly await a rainy day when a discerning visitor returns to continue the tale.