Jinyun Heyang Ancient Village: Under the Horse-Head Walls, Eight Hundred Smoke Stoves

Heyang is an ancient village with a high concentration of historic buildings. Before visiting, it is recommended to check the official cultural heritage list released by the Lishui Museum, because once you enter this village, you will find a cultural relic every five steps and a protected site every ten steps, making it easy to feel overwhelmed without a clear focus. The 32 horse-head walls along the Daqiao Road are the landmark of Heyang. These fireproof walls, built during the Daoguang period of the Qing Dynasty, are named for their horse-head shape, stretching nearly a hundred meters with varying heights. The edges of the tiles on the wall tops curve slightly upward, allowing rainwater to drip from the eaves and splash into the moss at the base. Occasionally, villagers carrying bamboo baskets pass by, their shadows overlapping with the wall shadows, appearing like figures in a painting. Passing through the "Eight Scholars Gate," the headless stone lion in front of the gate catches the eye. Inside the gate is the old street, where the stone slab road is inlaid with coin patterns made from bricks soaked in brine—after rain, the bricks darken and the coin outlines become clear, a clever way villagers once used to predict the weather. Many ancestral halls have now been converted into residences. The wooden carvings of ox legs show the God of Wealth holding ingots, and the details of Liu Hai playing with the golden toad are clearly visible. The descendant of the "Ancient Scholar's Mansion" was shelling broad beans on the doorstep. The alley at the entrance of this nationally protected site is enclosed within a residence. An elder led us inside, through two courtyards and several corridors. On a display rack in the corner, rusty sickles and polished stone mortars silently tell the story of a family tradition of farming and scholarship. At the entrance of the "Xungui Yingyue" residence, a small shop has opened. On the table, a coarse pottery tea bowl still holds some warmth. The shop owner, a descendant of the house, was eating watermelon behind the door. Seeing us arrive, he also acted as our guide, saying, "Our ancestors built this house with the principle of 'square outside, round inside.'" He pointed to the stone slabs in the courtyard inlaid with coin patterns, "When you go out, you must follow rules; at home, you must be harmonious, just like the holes in these coins—empty so light can pass through." This seems to be the Zhu family’s philosophy of life written in bricks and tiles: to follow social norms while keeping an open heart toward the bright moon. When leaving, I bought two Jinyun sesame cakes at a stall at the village entrance. The vendor was an elderly white-haired woman who baked the cakes while lamenting how lively the village used to be, but now the young people have all left. The evening pond reflected the silhouette of the horse-head walls, and a few ducks broke the water’s surface, creating ripples that perfectly connected the flying eaves and their reflections into a complete circle. Several children ran across the stone bridge holding kites, their laughter startling the egrets in the reeds. Villagers gradually returned home, wooden doors creaked, and cooking smoke rose gently between the gray tiles—without the disturbance of tourists’ camera shutters, time here seemed to slow down.