A Dubai-like vibe～The Ethnic Palace in Dachang

When the morning mist still lingered, I rode my bicycle toward this "moonlight treasure box" forgotten on the outskirts of Beijing. Locust blossoms fluttered into my bike basket along Tongyan Highway like shattered jade scattered by the sky, until that snow-white palace suddenly came into view—284 moon gates stood in poetic formation, with dawn light seeping through the Persian-patterned stone carvings, as if whispering secrets from a thousand-year Silk Road journey. Under the glazed dome at noon, I sat dazed with a basket of golden shaomai in hand. The thin wrappers held piping-hot lamb broth, the pungent aroma of wild chives mingling with the soft clinks of porcelain spoons against wooden tables. An elderly man in a white cap at the next table suddenly slid over a plate of tangjuanguo: "Young lady, sweets ease homesickness." The wrinkles at his eyes held the winds of the Hexi Corridor and the moonlight of Chang'an. Dusk was the most breathtaking. As the sunset dyed the entire structure honey-gold, Uncle Maimaiti's dutar melodies rose from the sunken plaza. The six strings trembled with tales of his grandfather crossing deserts on a donkey, while the dome's lights flickered on one by one in the twilight—1,032 glazed tiles transformed into floating stars. A sketching teenager on the steps captured the moment forever in his notebook. The journey back carried the scent of snow chrysanthemums on my sleeves, the Chao Bai River breeze sweeping away the last traces of noise. In the rearview mirror, the receding Ethnic Palace became a glazed lantern burning on the horizon. This city is always in a hurry, but some places remain cracks in time—where strangers offer sweets, where memories linger on instrument strings, where moonlight pierces a millennium of dust to gently mend the fragmented moments of modern lives. (It's 20:45 now, neon lights flooding Beijing outside my window. Suddenly, I want to tell you reading this: Find a weekend to go. Let those kindnesses carved in stone catch all the weariness you’ve left unspoken.)