Xichan Temple in Fuzhou offers a blend of natural beauty and history. [Photo provided to China Daily]
While northern Fujian is defined by its pristine mountain landscapes, the provincial capital of Fuzhou holds the soul of the province — its elegant lanes and hillside alleyways forming a living continuum of culture that bridges classical tradition and contemporary creativity.
Here, the Minjiang River meets the sea, and ancient scholarship meets modern innovation. Just as the Great Wall defines any Beijing itinerary, no visit to Fuzhou is complete without exploring Sanfang Qixiang.
Nestled in downtown Fuzhou, the historical district — literally meaning "Three Lanes and Seven Alleys" — is a 40-hectare preserve of Ming (1368-1644) and Qing (1644-1911) architecture, where over 200 ancient buildings fan out like a fish-bone along mazelike lanes.
Originally established during the Jin Dynasty (265-420) and flourishing from the Tang Dynasty (618-907) onward as a hub for officials and scholars, it remains a living chronicle of Fuzhou's intellectual and architectural heritage.
The moment I step into Sanfang Qixiang, the afternoon light filters through ancient banyan trees, casting dappled shadows on bluestone paths.
Performances of Minju Opera and historical architecture attract visitors to Sanfang Qixiang in Fuzhou, Fujian province. [Photo provided to China Daily]
I first drop by the dual residence of the Qing revolutionary Lin Juemin (1887-1911) and the prolific female writer Bing Xin (1900-99).The most poignant part is an electronic display of Lin's letter to his deceased wife.
"You can see how his penmanship changes — starting neat and controlled, then becoming rushed with emotion," notes Miao Miao, a senior guide at Sanfang Qixiang.
Just steps away, Bing Xin's study offers correspondences between the writer and her husband, which are filled with her affection for Fuzhou. She wrote that Fuzhou's lantern festivals were the most delightful, and that local women wearing the "three-rod" hairstyle were the most elegant.
For those keen on Chinese revolutionary history, the former residence of Yan Fu (1854-1921), also in Sanfang Qixiang, offers a walk down the lane of the great thinker's final years, as well as his masterpieces.
Architectural marvel
One shouldn't miss the architectural marvel of Xiaohuang Lou (Little Yellow Tower), which reveals another layer of Fuzhou's cultural heritage. Originally dating back to the Tang Dynasty, the garden showcases ingenious spatial design featuring a distinctive half-pavilion, undulating saddle-shaped walls, and a rockery.
"The 'snow cave' right next to the study here provides natural cooling in summer," Miao explains as we admire murals created from crushed seashell powder and mineral pigments on the walls.
"The magpies and plum blossoms symbolize double happiness, while the long-tailed bird with magnolia represents nobility and longevity. These colors have remained vibrant for centuries."
Beyond the historical residences, Sanfang Qixiang thrives with living culture.
Along the main Nanhou Street, the aroma of rouyan (swallow-shaped wonton) — a delicacy of meat wrapped in finely minced pork — drifts from establishments like Tongli. In creative cultural shops, the "three-rod" hairstyle elements appear on everything from elegant hairpins to charming refrigerator magnets.
Performances of Minju Opera and historical architecture attract visitors to Sanfang Qixiang in Fuzhou, Fujian province. [Photo provided to China Daily]
At a styling studio, I watch visitors transform with the "three-rod "hairstyle.
"It was originally a practical headdress for farming women who would use the rods for self-defense," a stylist explains while arranging a customer's hair. It has now evolved into a cultural symbol reinvented for modern aesthetics. Perhaps the most surprising discovery is the painted glass workshop housed in a 280-year-old courtyard.
Here, artists practice a Fujian provincial-level intangible cultural heritage — using syringes rather than brushes to inject mineral pigments into crystal glass.
"Artists might excel at painting, but this requires different skills entirely," the workshop's guide explains.
They've developed thousands of mineral pigments and created products ranging from partition screens that feature patterns of classic Chinese paintings to thangka paintings.
Those stunning polychromatic pieces were presented as diplomatic gifts, the guide proudly tells me.
While Sanfang Qixiang presents horizontal history, Yantai Hill, a 20-minute drive away, unfolds vertically and has been a magnet for young people seeking modern vibes.
The hill resembles a 40-meter-tall open-air museum of architectural fusion. From its origins as a Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368) fortress to becoming home to 17 foreign consulates after Fuzhou opened as a port in 1845, the hill boasts 163 buildings spanning Gothic, Romanesque and traditional folk styles.
Where stories live
My exploration begins at Cangqian Street, where the hill meets the Minjiang River. Unlike Sanfang Qixiang's orderly lanes, Yantai Hill's paths spiral upward, each turn revealing new vistas — sometimes the sweeping river view, sometimes hidden designer boutiques tucked into stone staircases.
At Huanxi Chuo'o tea shop, owner Zheng Lingyi, who grew up in the neighborhood, prepares my olive-based drink — a local specialty — while sharing her insider's perspective.
"Most visitors stick to the commercial streets, but the real Yantai Hill starts from the back mountain where I attended school," she says.
"Those old cinemas and elementary schools tucked away in the lanes remain untouched by commercial development."
Her recommended route feels like a local's love letter to the neighborhood: beginning at Yantai Hill Park in the afternoon, winding past former consulates and churches, then descending to her shop in the evening.
What strikes me most is her description of Yantai Hill's unique grid-like layout of nine li (neighborhood units).
"It's like Sanfang Qixiang's lane system, but built into the hillside," she notes.
Standing on Cangqian Street, the sign for Huaji Grocery Shop stands out, attracting crowds taking photos of its front, which is filled with old items. Pushing open the door, I stumble into a treasure trove where time seems to stand still.
The 600-square-meter space serves as a platform connecting 300 illustrators and handicraft studios across China.
The owner Li Linghua impresses me by knowing all the craftspeople behind the assorted products, from handmade earrings and bracelets to woodblock paintings and costumes.
"These are avatar stamps drawn by our staff members," he says, looking content with the move to sell craft items made by his employees, as it offers customers something intimate and personal while increasing his employees' income.
When I reach a row of Western fairy-tale-style dolls, his tone becomes reverent. "These are samples from a friend's factory I've collaborated with for 19 years. Each one is unique. I don't want to sell them. They're just for display," he says.
As he enthusiastically shows me his cherished pieces — ceramic statues of historical figures, Western hand puppets, marionettes — I can see his collector's soul beneath the businessman's pragmatism.
The diverse array of bistros and restaurants promises to satisfy every palate. At Linzhong Xiaojiu bistro, fiery wok dishes arrive against the glittering Minjiang River backdrop, while traditional southern Fujian flavors can be found at the Nanmatang restaurant, with aromatic seafood congee complemented by vinegar-braised pork and delicate scallion buns.
I'm blown away by Zhiliao Kefei, a store hidden in a traditional courtyard house.
Sipping fruit-forward coffee amid displays of insect specimens and mineral collections, then trying my hand at their tie dye workshop, I find myself fully immersed in the neighborhood's unhurried rhythm and appreciating the art of slow living.
When I ask Zheng, the tea shop owner, about changes over time, her answer surprises me. "The mountain itself hasn't changed much."
Holding a magnetic bottle opener featuring Chinese characters hu jiu (tiger correction) — a playful nod to Fuzhou's local dialect (hu jiu pronounced in the local accent sounds like the city's name) — alongside a drink Zheng crafts from native ingredients, it dawns on me that these are more than tourism products. They are stories in physical form, each telling a part of Fuzhou's living narrative through the hands of people like Li and Zheng.
As dusk deepens near my hotel, the walls glow in sunset's embrace.
I couldn't help but think of Miao's words. From Bing Xin's, "Where there is love, there is everything", to Yan Fu's wisdom bridging Chinese and Western thoughts, these ancient dwellings not only preserve the city's historical context, but plant cultural seeds in every traveler who knocks on their doors.
