A Stroll Through Jin Temple: Grasping a Handful of Northern Song Dynasty Breeze in a Millennium-Old Building

On the weekend, carrying expectations of the "Little South of the North," I ventured into Jin Temple. I originally planned to seriously tour the ancient site, but ended up laughing at the charming contrasts here, as if attending a relaxed date with people from a thousand years ago. Just entering the park, I was amazed by the lush greenery. Although it is a northern royal ancestral temple, the Jin River winding through it brings a gentle southern charm. Walking along the stone path, I first encountered the "Zhou Cypress"—this over 3,000-year-old tree has twisted branches that look like they’re breakdancing, its bark cracked but full of vigor. Red silk ribbons hanging on the branches swayed in the wind, resembling colorful wind chimes tied to the old tree. Nearby, the "Nanlao Spring" was even more interesting. The spring bubbled continuously, with water so clear you could see the underwater plants. Many visitors squatted by the pool to wash their hands, hoping to catch some of the "Nanlao" blessing. I joined in the fun; the spring water was cool and instantly dispelled the afternoon heat. When I reached the Holy Mother Hall, I was truly amazed by Jin Temple’s "special skills." Outside the hall, the wooden dragon pillars are carved with dragons entwined with clouds; every scale and whisker is distinct. Sunlight shining on them made it seem like the dragons would leap off the pillars any second. The most captivating were the 43 maid statues inside the hall. They are not stiff sculptures—some pursed their lips as if holding back laughter, some furrowed their brows as if worried, and others held handkerchiefs, posing so charmingly it seemed they would speak at any moment. The guide said these maid statues each had different roles—some in charge of grooming, some of music. Even the folds in their clothes naturally draped with their movements. The craftsmanship of Northern Song artisans truly carved "vivid life" into the wood. After leaving the Holy Mother Hall, I turned to the Fish Pond Flying Beam, unlocking Jin Temple’s "internet-famous check-in spot." This cross-shaped ancient bridge has a stone-paved surface and white marble railings on both sides. Standing on the bridge, you can overlook the entire fish pond. The red carp in the water are unafraid of people; whenever someone approaches, they swim over in groups, wagging their tails to beg for food. I squatted by the railing and scattered bread crumbs, instantly "attacked" by the fish swarm. The splashing water wet my pant legs, making the nearby children laugh heartily. By evening, the sunset dyed Jin Temple’s red walls a warm golden color, and the flying eaves of the ancient buildings cast long shadows in the dusk. Sitting on a stone bench in the park, watching the passing visitors—there were "cultured people" seriously studying ancient steles, children chasing the koi, and "leisurely people" like me, strolling while enjoying a cultural creative ice cream. Before leaving, I bought a "maid statue" keychain at the cultural creative shop near the exit, quietly tucking Jin Temple’s gentleness and charm into my pocket.