Shenyang: Where the Qing Dynasty Began and Russian Romance Lingers

Summer in Shenyang The morning sunlight filters through the old locust trees, casting its glow on the red walls of the Shenyang Imperial Palace, as if slipping into the folds of time. The glazed tiles of the Dazheng Hall shimmer with golden light under the sun, while the silent mythical beasts stand guard at the eaves. The wooden grain of the brackets beneath the roof remains from centuries ago, the curved eaves reflect the nomadic spirit, and the columns embody the order of the Central Plains. At the Marshal Zhang's Mansion, standing in the Tiger Hall and listening to the guide, one is reminded of the turbulent years and the unresolved fate of that era. He represents half of the history of the Republic of China. The Little South Catholic Church is hidden deep within the alleys. Its Gothic spire pierces the twilight, and the stained glass filters the evening light into colorful spots. White doves flutter past the spire, blending the scenery with the distant cries of street vendors in the alleys. As dusk deepens, sitting on the stone steps outside the church, one can watch the sunset gild the dome with a golden edge. The evening breeze carries the moist scent of the moat, mixed with the sweet aroma of old-fashioned popsicles. This is the essence of summer in Shenyang—ancient and vibrant, gently swaying in the twilight.