The Journey Along the Silk Road in Late Summer

It was the late summer of 2003. We were young, with hearts full of dreams about the world and distant horizons. That year, my childhood friend and I returned to China from the United States, embarking on a journey with no predetermined destination. Years later, he became family—my second sister’s husband, though often the subject of our playful teasing. That journey became a shared testament to our youth and one of the most cherished memories of my life. We traveled along an ancient and mysterious path—the middle section of the Silk Road. From the heart of the Yellow River to the cradle of Chinese civilization, from the central plains to the gateway of the northwest, we passed through Zhengzhou, Kaifeng, Luoyang, and Xi’an. We climbed Mount Hua, visited the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song, and gazed at the thousand Buddhas of the Longmen Grottoes. It felt as though we were traversing millennia, searching for ourselves and the roots of our culture amidst the vast dust of history. Zhengzhou: The Starting Point Zhengzhou was neither bustling nor ostentatious, like an old guardian silently watching over history. It wasn’t the most dazzling stop, but it was the starting point of our journey. The morning breeze carried the scent of wheat fields. Standing on the central plains, we felt a sense of belonging for the first time. We walked along the banks of the Yellow River, an ancient waterway that seemed to whisper the history and hopes of the Chinese people. Kaifeng: Dreams of Bianliang Kaifeng is a city that lives in the verses of Song Dynasty poetry. The night market near the Drum Tower was lively and bustling. We savored hot and spicy dishes like hu la tang and soup dumplings, their warmth stirring gentle ripples in our hearts. At the Qingming Riverside Landscape Garden, it felt as though we had stepped into Zhang Zeduan’s painting, with scenes of bustling streets and festive celebrations vividly coming to life. What I remember most is you standing on the city wall, smiling and saying, "The moon here looks just like it did when we were kids." We were so young then, yet nostalgia had already begun to creep into our hearts. Shaolin Temple on Mount Song: A Dialogue Between Martial Arts and Zen When we entered the Shaolin Temple, sunlight filtered through rows of ancient stone tablets and pagodas, and the stillness was almost reverent. The monks practicing martial arts exuded strength, while the serene smiles of the Buddhist monks added a touch of compassion to the mountain forest. That morning, we sat on the stone steps outside the temple, sipping simple soy milk. You suddenly said, "If I could stay here for a month, I might gain some enlightenment." I teased you for being pretentious, but deep down, I felt a similar yearning. Longmen Grottoes: Silent Buddhas, Timeless Whispers Entering the Longmen Grottoes was like stepping into a silent universe. The expression of the Vairocana Buddha was the most serene and transcendent smile I had ever seen. It conveyed a peace that transcended life and death, joy and sorrow, prosperity and decline. We stood beneath the grottoes for a long time, speechless. The torrent of history seemed to quiet down, leaving only the wind whispering in our ears. In that moment, I understood that the "weight of culture" lies not in preaching but in contemplation. Gazing at a Buddha statue felt like examining how people from a thousand years ago understood eternity. Luoyang and Xi’an: Crossroads of Civilization Luoyang, the ancient capital of thirteen dynasties, is the land where peonies bloom. Xi’an, formerly Chang’an, is the true starting point of the Silk Road. We were awestruck by the Terracotta Army and delighted by the grilled meat stalls in the Muslim Quarter. Xi’an’s nights were illuminated by the lights of the Drum Tower and the tranquility of the ancient city walls. That evening, as we strolled near Yongning Gate, you suddenly said, "When we’re old, we should come back here again." Mount Hua: A Thrilling Ascent Mount Hua was the final stop of our journey and the most thrilling part. Back then, China’s famous mountains didn’t have cable cars or elevators to the summit. We climbed with our own strength. I remember you asking me on a steep ladder, "Are you scared?" I replied, "Yes, but I still want to see the view from the top." You smiled and said, "Isn’t that just like life?" It wasn’t until years later that I realized you weren’t just talking about climbing. Most people came to Mount Hua for the legendary "sword duels," but my friend and I took a different path. We laughed and joked our way up, turning the journey into what we called the "Mount Hua Competition of Wits." While others sought martial arts mastery, we reveled in our playful banter. This journey later became like a yellowed page in a diary, tucked away in the drawer of memories. Yet it also felt like a steady beginning, reminding me that some paths in life must be walked together to leave a lasting mark. More than twenty years have passed since that journey, but the memories remain vivid. That late summer, we measured the depth of history with our footsteps and connected each morning and night with laughter and debates. You went from being a friend to family, and I learned gratitude and growth through this journey that spanned ancient and modern times. The Silk Road is more than just a route; it’s a spirit—a courage to explore the unknown and seek cultural roots. Back then, we might not have understood much, but we dared to see, to listen, to ask. We dared to gaze into the eyes of Buddha statues in the grottoes and welcome the dawn on mountain peaks. This journey taught me that the beauty of youth lies not in the number of places visited but in the company we keep. And I was fortunate to have you as the brightest light of that journey. May we, years from now, still recall that late summer, the wind over the central plains, and the memories of freedom, faith, and home. Written for the us of 2003, and for the us of today.