At ten o'clock in the evening, the ancient city should be empty of tourists, the streets deserted and chilly, most shops already closed, with only a bar emitting the sound of guitar strumming and guests murmuring, and one or two hot pot or snack shops still serving late-night diners. Here, there are loud, excited conversations, even unclear arguments. People spend the last two hours of the day in long meals and idle chats, then move to another place to pass the first two hours of the next day, finally welcoming the dawn after a brief sleep, returning to daily work and life.
We hadn't walked into this brightly lit ancient street at night for several months. Approaching Xinggong Tower, the bustling South Street, with its throngs of tourists and shops still open, made me feel as if I had mistakenly wandered into Renmin Road in Dali Ancient City—bustling and lively. Weishan Ancient City is quietly transforming into something less familiar. More bars, more coffee shops, more cultural and creative stores, and travel photography shops have appeared. All the shops that tend to cluster in ancient towns have found their way here. A newly opened bar on South Street was hosting an event, with a microphone blaring loudly; two or three young people sat at the half-open shop door, the calm night stirred and disturbed, revealing a message that clashed sharply with the slow pace of the ancient city.
Some small shops full of life had been replaced without my noticing. Next to Xinggong Tower, there used to be an old handmade noodle workshop that had been operating for decades. During the day, a fan would always be blowing on the freshly made noodles. I saw this scene every time I passed by, but at some point, it disappeared. The old workshop seemed to have turned into a self-service cultural and creative store, while my memory remained stuck years ago, always thinking the scene of the fan blowing noodles was still there. It wasn't until this time, when I deliberately went looking for the noodle shop to take night photos, that I realized it had long since changed beyond recognition.
North of Xinggong Tower, a small shop was still open, with many Jiama and Wacat displayed at the entrance. Weishan Jiama is a folk woodblock print art passed down in Weishan County, combining blessing functions with intangible cultural heritage value. Weishan Jiama originated in the Tang Dynasty, initially used as folk religious sacrificial items, later developing into a print art integrating wood carving, printing, and papermaking techniques. Its patterns include auspicious beasts, farming scenes, etc., with concise lines and rich colors. Over 200 patterns exist, such as the God of Wealth and Dragon King, embodying blessings for good fortune and disaster relief. Weishan Wacat is a unique traditional gray pottery craft in Weishan County, with both the function of warding off evil and cultural heritage value. Weishan Wacat originated from folk house-protecting customs, using the tiger as a prototype combined with cat features, carrying the spiritual beliefs of ethnic minorities like Yi and Bai. Its traditional form is often placed on roof ridges or door heads, symbolizing the warding off of evil and bringing good fortune.
From Gongchen Tower to Xinggong Tower, then from Xinggong Tower to Nanzha Gate, and back the same way, we wandered on North Street and South Street for an hour. Only then did the pedestrians gradually disperse, and the streets returned to their former tranquility. South Street used to have many long wooden benches, empty and placed at doorways for people to sit on. At that time, the short bluestone street between Xinggong Tower and Nanzha Gate was always shiny and new, with small, elegant flower beds by the roadside. Just to look at this leisurely street and the small flowers in the rustic flower beds, we would sit on those benches for a long time—half an hour, an hour, or even longer.
Elderly women returning late after a walk or square dancing would say goodbye to each other and disappear into their homes hidden in dark alleys. Fat cats leaped and darted around the streets as if no one was watching. During the day, they slept in invisible places; at night, the streets belonged to them. They chased and played, stopped under streetlights, their eyes alertly fixed on dark corners invisible to humans, then swiftly dashed over and merged into the darkness. Now, residents are rarely seen, and the cats have disappeared somewhere. Only groups of tourists remain, browsing from one shop to the next, like surveying the harvest in an autumn field.
The above six photos were taken on November 6, 2020, showing the old night scene of Weishan Ancient City. Looking back at my WeChat Moments from that day, I remembered that because of a power outage in Dali, we had nothing to do and decided on a whim to come to Weishan. The street photos were taken at 8:30 PM, with very few pedestrians. Almost everyone we encountered were locals; we were among the rare four tourists. I have forgotten the specific circumstances of that day, only remembering that the orange light from the street lamps was very warm. I sat under a street lamp for a long time, completely unaware of the night's chill.
