China's "Most Mysterious" Ancient Village, 80% Descendants of Zhuge Liang, Layout Like a Maze

At dawn, passing through the lively atmosphere of morning tea in Youbu Ancient Town, and driving for less than half an hour, I fell from the bustling small town into a tranquil ancient village surrounded by eight small hills—Zhuge Bagua Village. As a traveler who just arrived in Jinhua, I thought this was just another ordinary ancient village, but I never expected that this village, built according to the Nine Palaces Bagua diagram, would bring me the most stunning encounter in early October 2025. Speaking of Zhuge Bagua Village, the story begins with the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period. In 952 AD, Zhuge Li, the 14th-generation descendant of Zhuge Liang, served as the county magistrate of Jiande, Zhejiang, and for the first time moved the family to Jiangnan. By the time of the 27th-generation descendant Zhuge Dashi, this ancestor, skilled in geomancy, chose Gaolonggang northwest of Lanxi in the early Yuan Dynasty—eight small hills naturally enclosed, with a natural pond in the center, like a heaven-made Bagua base. He spent his entire fortune to buy this land and strictly followed the principles of the I Ching, starting the legendary "array-style settlement" for the scattered family. Today, 80% of the village residents are surnamed Zhuge, and Zhuge Liang’s family motto of "detachment and clear ambition" has been passed down here for 28 generations. Right at the village entrance is a parking lot, surprisingly well-equipped, with a spacious and bright visitor hall, clean and tidy walking paths, all surrounded by lush countryside. But once you step into the village entrance, time seems to instantly rewind. On the right is a row of white-walled, black-tiled street-facing shops; on the left, a pond full of lotus leaves and rice fields. The rural atmosphere and the bustling alleys blend perfectly. The Prime Minister’s Ancestral Hall stands quietly at the village entrance, facing me across the river. This building from the Ming Dynasty’s Wanli period has no main door, only side doors. Later I learned this was designed according to the "Fu Hu" (Crouching Tiger) pattern, higher inside and lower outside, with the tiger’s mouth slightly open but not ostentatious. The Bell Pond, the village’s landmark and core, resembles the "Yin-Yang fish eyes" in the Bagua. Standing by the pond, I observed carefully: eight main alleys radiate from the pond, each spawning countless small alleys, forming a "seemingly connected but actually disconnected" maze. Sure enough, after just two turns, I lost my way—and this is precisely the most interesting way to experience the wisdom of the ancestors and the charm of Bagua Village. Inside the Great Ancestral Hall, scenes from the TV drama "Under the Flourishing City" come alive. The characters "Loyalty" and "Martial" still stand solemnly; the faded murals of "Three Visits to the Thatched Cottage" and "Borrowing Arrows with Straw Boats" still evoke the wisdom and spirit of the Zhuge ancestors. This hall is also the place for the Zhuge family’s worship and meetings. Standing inside, it feels as if you can hear the family’s whispers across time. Climbing to the village’s highest point, Tianyi Hall, the entire Bagua Village unfolds before my eyes. I sat in the pavilion for a long time, marveling at the wisdom of Zhuge’s descendants while carefully observing the orderly layout of green tiles and white walls on the Bagua diagram. At that moment, smoke from cooking fires rose gently from the depths of the alleys. I finally understood Zhuge Dashi’s painstaking intention—this is not just a residence but a century-old defensive art passed down through generations. After seeing many traditional Chinese medicine specimens in the Great Scripture Hall, I understood the Zhuge family motto: "If not a good prime minister, then be a good doctor." The descendants transformed this compassion into the art of medicine, passed down through generations. In front of Yongmu Hall, the Su-style brick carvings under the "Jinshi" (successful candidate in imperial exams) plaque are intricate and exquisite, each stroke telling the family’s respect for history and culture. On the way to the village exit, I bought a bottle of mineral water at a small shop. "2 yuan," the shopkeeper smiled as she quoted the price. This price stunned me for a moment—in a tourist area, this is truly a miracle. With this bottle of water, I chatted casually with the shopkeeper. She said her son works in Beijing, and the elderly couple guards the old house. She pointed deep into the alley: "That’s my home, come have tea when you have time." This unguarded kindness made me feel the most genuine warmth of rural China again in this digital age. On the way back, I suddenly realized that the meaning of "traveling and living" is never about how many attractions you check off, but moments like this—fully immersing yourself in the village’s rhythm, walking slowly, wandering slowly, feeling the simplicity of the villagers and the local life. In Zhuge Bagua Village, you can: · Zone out by the Bell Pond, watching villagers carry water past · Get lost in any small alley and unexpectedly meet weathered old walls · Chat with elders sunbathing on doorsteps · Feel the life behind every wooden door and every old house Every cobblestone here tells you: slow down, and you can hear the heartbeat of history. As the sun set in the west, I looked back one last time at this maze-like village. Zhuge Dashi surely never imagined that his design from 700 years ago would not only protect generations of descendants but also become a spiritual totem for people today seeking the true essence of life. Perhaps this is the most beautiful gain on a journey—finding the life you yearn for in someone else’s hometown.