Wuhou Shrine 武侯祠

Welcome, everyone! It's great to have you here at the Wuhou Shrine Museum in Chengdu. Today I'll take you through the site in order — South Gate, Main Gate, Second Gate, Liu Bei Hall, the Passageway, Zhuge Liang Hall, Sanyi Temple, Huiling Mausoleum, and finally Jinli Street — so we can experience together this "Sacred Ground of the Three Kingdoms," where history, architecture, and garden art all come together.

Let's start with a quick overview of Wuhou Shrine. This is no ordinary place. Founded in 223 AD, it has stood for over 1,780 years and is the only shrine in China dedicated jointly to a ruler and his minister. You might wonder what "jointly dedicated" means — it means that both sovereign and subject are worshipped here under one roof: Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang, honored side by side. The grounds cover 150,000 square meters, making this the most influential Three Kingdoms heritage museum in the country, earning it the title "Sacred Ground of the Three Kingdoms." It was listed among the first batch of National Key Cultural Relics Protection Units in 1961, and in 2008 it was designated a National First-Class Museum.

A lot of people call this place Wuhou Shrine without a second thought, but its official name is actually the Han Zhaoli Temple. When it was first built, it served as a memorial temple for Liu Bei, the founding emperor of Shu Han, and was known as the Han Zhaoli Temple. Nearby stood a separate Wuhou Shrine dedicated to Zhuge Liang. Then, in the twenty-fourth year of the Hongwu reign of the Ming dynasty (1391), Zhu Chun, the Prince of Shu, decided that ruler and minister ought to share the same space, and had Zhuge Liang's statue moved into the Han Zhaoli Temple — creating the unique arrangement of one shrine honoring both lord and counselor. But the people didn't care much about official names. Because Zhuge Liang's achievements were so towering and the affection people held for him ran so deep, everyone kept calling the whole complex "Wuhou Shrine." During the Republic of China era, the poet Zou Lu captured it perfectly: "The gate plaque reads Han Zhaoli Temple, yet all the world calls it Wuhou Shrine. For reputation bows to merit and deed — the Premier's glory echoes down a hundred ages." That verse is a true reflection of how, in the hearts of Sichuan's people, Zhuge Liang's stature surpassed even that of Liu Bei.

Right now we're standing outside the South Gate — take a look at that tall spirit wall across the road. A spirit wall, or zhaobi, is a feature of traditional Chinese architecture: you never let the main gate open directly onto the street. A wall is placed in front to shield the interior, preserve privacy, and — as the saying goes — "gather the wind and hold the energy." On either side of this wall stands an old banyan tree, its canopy spread wide like an umbrella, framing the red wall in a scene that serves as Wuhou Shrine's very first impression.

Coming through the South Gate, the first thing you see is the plaque above the entrance bearing four golden characters: Han Zhao Lie Miao — the Han Zhaoli Temple. Take a close look at that plaque — notice anything unusual about the character for "bright" or "ming"? On the left side, the normal form has the sun radical "ri," but on this plaque it's written with an extra horizontal stroke, making it look like "mu" — an eye — instead. Legend has it this was a slip of the brush by the Kangxi Emperor of the Qing dynasty. Later generations, however, decided they liked the "error" better than the correct version, reading it as a poetic idea: a truly enlightened ruler must see with sharper eyes than ordinary men. So it was passed down from one generation to the next and became one of Wuhou Shrine's most distinctive cultural signatures.

Admission is 50 yuan per person. Students and visitors over 60 receive half-price tickets at 25 yuan. The shrine is open from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., with last entry at 5 p.m. You can buy tickets at the ticket windows or scan the QR code to purchase online through the Wuhou Shrine mini-program on WeChat or Alipay. During the Spring Festival temple fair, crowds can be very large — if you'd prefer a quieter visit, coming on a weekday right when the gates open is the way to go.

Look up at the two sides of the main gate. A pair of Ming dynasty stone lions flank the entrance on left and right, seated upright with heads raised high, radiating an air of quiet authority. The gate itself opens at the center, its vermilion doors studded with gold-painted nails — nine across and nine down, eighty-one in all. This was a specification reserved for imperial architecture during the Ming and Qing dynasties, befitting Liu Bei's status as the Emperor Zhaoli of Han.

Now let's step through the gate and enter Wuhou Shrine. When sunlight catches the plaque above these vermilion doors, it practically glows — especially in the soft light just after opening time in the morning. If you enjoy photography, keep that in mind and come back to find your angle before you leave.

Passing through the Main Gate, we arrive at the Second Gate. Notice the six tall stone steles lining both sides of the path. The one on the far right, protected under a glass enclosure, is the famous Tang dynasty stele known as the "Stele of Three Perfections."

This stele stands over three meters tall. Its full title is Inscription on the Shrine of Zhuge Wuhou, Prime Minister of Shu. It was commissioned in the fourth year of the Yuanhe reign of Emperor Xianzong of Tang — that is, 809 AD — by Wu Yuanheng, the Military Governor of Jiannan Xichuan, after he visited the shrine with twenty-eight of his staff to pay their respects to Zhuge Liang. It has now stood for more than 1,200 years.

So why is it called the "Stele of Three Perfections"? Because it brings together three distinct forms of excellence — literary composition, calligraphy, and stone carving:

• Perfection in Writing: The inscription was composed by Pei Du, one of the most celebrated prime ministers of the Tang dynasty. Pei Du was no ordinary figure — he was the great minister who helped restore central authority by putting down the warlord rebellions of the mid-Tang era. In this text, he praises Zhuge Liang for embodying "loyalty in service, talent in founding a state, integrity in conduct, and skill in governing the people," comparing him to the legendary ministers Guan Zhong, Xiao He, and Zhang Liang of antiquity. Through Zhuge Liang's example, he was also gently advising Emperor Xianzong to strengthen central power and bring the regional warlords to heel.

• Perfection in Calligraphy: The text was written by Liu Gongchuo, the older brother of Liu Gongquan — the most celebrated master of regular script in the Tang dynasty. The saying "the sinew of Yan, the bone of Liu" refers to that Liu Gongquan. Liu Gongchuo's own calligraphy was equally accomplished and was said to be "no lesser than his younger brother's" — upright and vigorous, with a powerful, disciplined stroke.

• Perfection in Carving: The stone was cut by Lu Jian, a master craftsman from Sichuan. His chisel work was precise enough to reproduce every nuance of Liu Gongchuo's brushwork — every stroke that began round like a silkworm's head and lifted at the end like a swallow's tail was faithfully rendered in stone.

You may find that the glass enclosure causes reflections when you try to photograph the stele. Try shifting slightly to one side, or use a polarizing filter to cut the glare — this will make the inscribed characters come through much more clearly. The best light for shooting this stele falls between 8 and 10 in the morning, when sunlight comes in from the side and brings out the depth and texture of the carving.

In the stele pavilion to the left of the Second Gate stands another important stone stele from the Ming dynasty — the Inscription on the Shrine of Zhuge Wuhou, in full, composed by Zhang Shizhe, the Governor of Sichuan, and erected in the twenty-sixth year of the Jiajing reign (1547). Its text traces the history of the shrine through the ages — something of an official record of how Wuhou Shrine came to be.

Near the Second Gate, another feature deserves attention — the ancient cypress trees of Wuhou Shrine. Dozens of old cypresses still grow within the grounds. Some are said to have roots going back nearly two thousand years, though the original trees are long gone and what stand here today are replacements planted by later generations. Even so, they carry the memory of the ancient cypresses that Du Fu immortalized in verse. What is especially remarkable is that some of these trees still bear traces of the propping method used by Qing dynasty craftsmen — wooden poles driven into the earth at an angle to support a leaning trunk and keep an aged tree from falling. It was a simple, ingenious solution. The bark is cracked and furrowed like an old person's face, yet in May the branches are full of fresh green leaves that rustle in the breeze. Standing beneath them, you can feel a stillness that reaches back a thousand years.

Through the Second Gate, we arrive at the heart of Wuhou Shrine — Liu Bei Hall. This is the largest building in the complex, built with the traditional single-eave hip-and-gable roof — a form second only to the full hip roof in the hierarchy of classical Chinese architecture. The hall stretches seven bays wide and four bays deep, and the carved bracket arms along the front eaves are decorated with gilded mythical animals of exceptional craftsmanship.

Look up at the plaque above the Second Gate — four large characters reading "Ming Liang Qian Gu," written by Wu Ying, Military Commander of Sichuan during the Kangxi reign of the Qing dynasty. "Ming" refers to Liu Bei as an enlightened ruler; "Liang" refers to Zhuge Liang as an outstanding minister; "Qian Gu" means that this model of ruler and counselor will be remembered for eternity. Notice that the character "ming" here is also written with the eye radical rather than the sun radical — the same as on the Main Gate plaque, a writing style unique to Wuhou Shrine.

Step inside the hall and you'll find yourself facing the towering golden statue at the center — this is Liu Bei. It is the tallest statue in the entire shrine, standing three meters high and covered in gold leaf. He wears an imperial crown adorned with nine strings of hanging jade beads — the regalia of a Son of Heaven — and holds a jade ceremonial tablet in both hands, the implement carried by emperors during formal rites. The plaque before the statue reads "Emperor Zhaoli of Han" — "Han" being the dynastic name, "Zhaoli" his posthumous title. Flanking him are two attendants: one holding the imperial jade seal, the other a royal sword, symbolizing civil and military authority. Liu Bei rose from selling straw sandals on the street to ruling a third of the known world, founding the kingdom of Shu Han on the twin principles of benevolence and righteousness — one of the most unlikely origin stories in all of Chinese history.

Now turn to the side halls on the left and right:

The East Side Hall is dedicated to Guan Yu. Guan Yu's image — the red face, the long beard, the phoenix eyes, the crouching silkworm eyebrows, the Green Dragon Crescent Blade — is one that needs no introduction. In Chinese culture, Guan Yu is the embodiment of loyalty and righteousness, venerated as the God Guan and in Buddhist tradition as the Protector Bodhisattva. Enshrined alongside him are his sons Guan Ping and Guan Xing, and his subordinates Zhao Lei and Zhou Cang. Zhou Cang is actually a fictional character from the novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms, but his place in popular imagination was so deeply rooted that he too earned a spot in the hall.

The West Side Hall is dedicated to Zhang Fei. Zhang Fei's image — the dark face, the wide eyes, the swallow jaw and tiger whiskers — radiates the ferocity of a great warrior. The historical Zhang Fei was quite different from his fictional counterpart: he was skilled in calligraphy, showed deep respect to men of virtue, and was said to be especially fond of painting beautiful women. Enshrined with him are his son Zhang Bao and grandson Zhang Zun — Zhang Zun died fighting when Wei invaded and destroyed Shu Han, carrying on the family's tradition of loyal sacrifice.

Now step back outside and look toward the two long corridors stretching east and west in front of Liu Bei Hall — these are the celebrated Civil and Military Galleries.

In the fifth year of the Daoguang reign (1825), Liu Yuan, a prominent Sichuan scholar, oversaw a restoration of Wuhou Shrine and had fourteen clay statues of Shu Han civil officials placed in the East Gallery and fourteen military commanders in the West Gallery — twenty-eight in all. Each statue stands beside a stone tablet inscribed with a brief account of that person's life. The clothing on the figures draws from the costume traditions of Qing dynasty opera, which gives them a distinctive visual character.

The East Gallery is the Civil Officials' Gallery, led by Pang Tong, followed by Jian Yong, Lu Kai, Fu Rong, Fei Yi, Dong He, Deng Zhi, Chen Zhen, Jiang Wan, Dong Yun, Qin Mi, Yang Hong, Ma Liang, and Cheng Ji. Among these fourteen, you have a first-rate strategist known as the "Young Phoenix" (Pang Tong), ministers who steered the Shu Han court after Zhuge Liang's death (Jiang Wan and Fei Yi), and men who held the diplomatic and military fronts (Deng Zhi on a mission to Eastern Wu, Fei Yi holding Hanzhong). The most stirring figure is Fu Rong — at the Battle of Yiling, when Liu Bei's forces were routed, Fu Rong commanded the rearguard and fought until his last soldier fell. When Wu troops called on him to surrender, he said: "You dogs of Wu — since when does a Han general surrender?" Then he fought on until he died. Those words are carved on the tablet beside his statue, and every visitor who reads them feels a jolt to the chest.

The West Gallery is the Military Commanders' Gallery, led by Zhao Yun, followed by Sun Qian, Zhang Yi, Ma Chao, Wang Ping, Jiang Wei, Huang Zhong, Liao Hua, Xiang Chong, Fu Jian, Ma Zhong, Zhang Yi (a different one), Zhang Nan, and Feng Xi. Zhao Yun stands first not because he held the highest rank — in fact, his official position within Shu Han was never the most senior — but because his standing among ordinary people was extraordinary. His image as a warrior of total loyalty and unshakeable courage became part of the cultural DNA. Ma Chao was the scion of a legendary Western Liang military family; his fame as "the Magnificent Ma Chao" reached even Cao Cao's ears. Jiang Wei was Zhuge Liang's chosen successor and led nine campaigns against the north after Zhuge Liang's death, never abandoning the dream of restoring the Han dynasty.

Stand in the middle of the galleries and look back at Liu Bei Hall. These twenty-eight statues of civil and military officials, the images of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei in the side halls, and the central statue of Liu Bei together form a complete tableau of the Shu Han court — civil officials to the east, military commanders to the west, all standing guard around their sovereign at the center. This is not simply a shrine. It is an entire era, one that brimmed with heroes, frozen in space.

Leaving Liu Bei Hall and continuing north along the central axis, the corridor we're passing through now is the Passageway. The space itself is modest, but the walls on either side are inlaid with one of the most important calligraphic treasures in the entire shrine — the stone carvings of the "Chu Shi Biao" (Memorial on Sending Forth the Army), handwritten by Yue Fei.

The two Memorials on Sending Forth the Army were written by Zhuge Liang in 227 and 228 AD, on the eve of his first and second northern campaigns, as formal addresses to the later ruler Liu Shan. They are among the most celebrated works of prose in Chinese literary history. The lines they contain are things almost every Chinese person can recite from memory: "I was a commoner, tilling the fields in Nanyang, simply trying to survive in an age of upheaval, asking nothing of the princes and lords." "I will give my utmost in faithful service until my dying breath."

But what makes these carvings truly remarkable is not just the text — it's the man who wrote it: Yue Fei. In the eighth year of the Shaoxing reign of the Southern Song dynasty (1138), Yue Fei was marching his army through Nanyang in Henan Province and stopped to spend the night at the local Zhuge Liang shrine. He walked through the halls where Zhuge Liang's memory still lingered, and something inside him broke open. Two heroes, separated by nine hundred years: Zhuge Liang, who spent his life in campaigns northward, his ambitions unfulfilled; Yue Fei, who fought his whole life to drive back the Jurchen invaders, only to be recalled by twelve imperial edicts. That night, by lamplight, two souls collided across the centuries. Yue Fei took up his brush and in a single session wrote out both memorials — his running script bold and urgent, the force of each stroke coiled like compressed energy. It is said that when he reached the lines "the campaign failed before the general could prevail — it has left heroes weeping ever since," Yue Fei wept aloud.

The set of carvings comprises thirty-seven stone panels, each approximately 63 centimeters long and 52 centimeters wide, mounted on the walls on both sides of the passageway. The characters range from about 10 centimeters square for the larger ones down to 3 centimeters for the smaller. As you walk through, take time to look at each panel — the sweeping energy in the calligraphy is like a cavalry charge. It will make you imagine a general on the night before riding out to the front, sitting by candlelight, pouring every ounce of suppressed feeling and unresolved longing into his brush.

On the opposite wall of the passageway are stone carvings of the "Longzhong Dialogue." This was Zhuge Liang's famous strategic assessment, delivered to Liu Bei before Zhuge Liang had even left his retreat at Longzhong. The core argument: first take Jing Province as a base, then seize Yi Province to establish a three-way balance of power, then ally with Eastern Wu against Cao Cao, and when the time is right, launch a two-pronged campaign northward. History unfolded almost exactly according to this blueprint. Zhuge Liang was barely in his twenties when he had already seen the entire board.

Through the Passageway, we enter the rear section of Wuhou Shrine — Zhuge Liang Hall. Architecturally, this hall is noticeably smaller than Liu Bei Hall — only five bays wide, about half the floor area. But that very modesty is an expression of Zhuge Liang's own character: "I will give my utmost in faithful service until my dying breath." In life he was a minister; in death, he remains one.

Stone steps lead up to the hall entrance, lined with plain stone railings whose columns are carved with a variety of stone creatures. The eight carved bracket arms along the front eaves are exquisitely detailed. In front of the hall stands a Ming dynasty bronze incense burner with a four-legged phoenix design, its rim cast with a pair of treasure-holding child figures, lively and full of spirit. At the two rear corners of the hall are a bell tower and a drum tower — the classic pairing of "morning bell and evening drum" found in traditional Chinese temples.

Step inside and you'll see the plaque hanging above the main shrine — three characters reading "Jing Yuan Tang": Hall of Stillness and Far Sight. The name is drawn from a line in Zhuge Liang's famous Letter of Counsel to His Son: "Without simplicity of desire, one cannot clarify one's ambitions; without stillness, one cannot reach far." This is more than a hall name. It is a portrait of the man himself.

In the central shrine sits the gilded clay statue of Zhuge Liang, sculpted in the eleventh year of the Kangxi reign (1672). He holds a feather fan, wears a silk headband, and is draped in a crane-feather cloak — the image that every Chinese person carries in their mind when they think of Zhuge Liang. His expression is composed and refined, his gaze quiet and penetrating. He is at once a military commander of consummate strategic skill and a statesman who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Flanking him stand two young attendants — one holding a book of military strategy, the other a sword. In Zhuge Liang, the civil and the martial, the plan and the decision, were never two separate things.

The two figures enshrined to Zhuge Liang's left and right are his son Zhuge Zhan and his grandson Zhuge Shang. In 263 AD, when the Wei general Deng Ai made his audacious crossing of Yinping to strike directly at Chengdu, Zhuge Zhan and his nineteen-year-old son Zhuge Shang led their forces out to meet the enemy at Mianzhu. Both died in battle. Three generations of the Zhuge family gave their lives in loyal service — this is the most quietly heartbreaking group of statues in the entire shrine.

Look at the display in front of Zhuge Liang's statue — three bronze drums, known as the "Drums of Zhuge Liang." They are said to have been used during his southern campaigns against Meng Huo: turned upside down during the day, they served as cooking pots for the marching army; beaten at night in camp, their resonant sound carried for miles as an alert. The surface of each drum features a sunburst at the center, surrounded by crouching frogs — a classic motif in the bronze drum tradition of China's southwestern ethnic peoples. These three drums represent the lasting devotion of the peoples of the southwest to Zhuge Liang. He chose persuasion over force in subduing the south, giving rise to the legendary story of capturing and releasing Meng Huo seven times — and so the peoples of the south have remembered him, generation after generation.

Now look up at the couplet hanging on the front columns of the hall. This is the most famous inscribed couplet at Wuhou Shrine — the "Gongxin Couplet," composed by Zhao Fan in the twenty-eighth year of the Guangxu reign (1902):

Upper line: Win over the heart, and resistance dissolves of itself — the great commanders of history were never men who loved war

Lower line: Fail to read the situation, and both leniency and strictness become errors — those who govern Shu in later times must think deeply

This couplet rewards a closer reading, line by line.

The upper line says: "Win over the heart" — conquer your opponent's mind, earn their genuine allegiance, and opposition crumbles on its own. During his southern campaign, Zhuge Liang took to heart the counsel of Ma Su: "To subdue the heart is superior; to subdue the city is inferior. Winning the psychological battle is superior; winning the military battle is inferior." He captured and released Meng Huo seven times, until Meng Huo said with full conviction: "The people of the south will rebel no more." Hence the line: "The great commanders of history were never men who loved war" — true mastery of warfare means never needing to fight.

The lower line is a warning to those who come after: "Fail to read the situation" — if you don't carefully analyze the conditions you're working in, then it doesn't matter whether your policies are lenient or strict, you will get them wrong. "Those who govern Shu in later times must think deeply" — anyone who takes on the governance of Sichuan must weigh Zhuge Liang's approach carefully, and never act with haste.

When Zhao Fan wrote this couplet, Sichuan was passing through a period of political turbulence. He used Zhuge Liang's example to offer a gentle remonstrance to the then-Governor of Sichuan, hoping the authorities would govern as Zhuge Liang did — by reading the times and winning loyalty through virtue. The reason this couplet was quoted repeatedly by leaders like Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping is that it transcends the praise of any individual and rises to the level of a general principle of statecraft.

Leaving Zhuge Liang Hall and walking east, we come to Sanyi Temple — the Temple of the Three Oaths. This building was not originally located here. It was first constructed in the early Kangxi reign of the Qing dynasty at Tidu Street in Chengdu, commissioned by Zheng Jiaolin, the Military Commander of Sichuan. It was destroyed by fire in the forty-ninth year of the Qianlong reign (1784) and rebuilt the following year. In 1998, when urban development required the original site to be cleared, the entire temple was dismantled and relocated here within the grounds of Wuhou Shrine.

Why move Sanyi Temple into Wuhou Shrine? Because the story of Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei is inseparable from Zhuge Liang's own story — the Oath of the Peach Garden was the founding moment of Shu Han, and the Longzhong strategy was its blueprint. By bringing the Temple of the Three Oaths inside Wuhou Shrine, the full picture of the Three Kingdoms era finally comes together in one place.

Inside the hall, the three central statues are Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei, modeled after their descriptions in Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Liu Bei sits at the center, projecting the air of a generous and benevolent lord; Guan Yu is on the left, his red face and long beard and phoenix eyes emanating an authority that commands instant respect; Zhang Fei is on the right, leopard-headed and wide-eyed, every inch the ferocious warrior. The incense before these three burns thick and constant. In Chinese popular belief, the brotherhood oath of Liu, Guan, and Zhang is the supreme symbol of loyalty among friends — merchants venerate them as the God of Wealth in his martial form, sworn brotherhoods invoke them as founding ancestors, and friends sealing a bond still echo the old vow: "We do not ask to be born on the same day, month, and year — only to die on the same day, month, and year."

Walking south from Sanyi Temple, we enter the garden area of Wuhou Shrine. This section was originally part of the South Suburbs Park and was incorporated into the shrine grounds in 2003. Let's start with Guihe Tower — a two-story pavilion built on a platform in the middle of a pond, surrounded by osmanthus trees and lotus plants. In summer, when the lotus blooms, the water is covered in green leaves and red flowers, and Guihe Tower reflects in the still surface — this is the quietest and most beautiful corner of Wuhou Shrine. In autumn, the sweet osmanthus fills the air, and sitting beneath the pavilion with the scent of flowers around you and the soft sound of wind moving through the lotus leaves, you feel time itself slow to a stop.

Just east of Guihe Tower is Qin Pavilion — the Pavilion of the Zither, and it is well worth a pause. According to tradition, Zhuge Liang was a skilled player of the guqin. Two of the most celebrated scenes in Romance of the Three Kingdoms both involve the instrument. The first is the "Empty City Stratagem" — Zhuge Liang sat alone on the city wall, burning incense and playing his zither without a tremor in the music, and his unruffled calm caused Sima Yi to withdraw his army of a hundred and fifty thousand, convinced it must be a trap. The second comes after Liu Bei's three visits to the thatched cottage — when Zhuge Liang finally agreed to leave, he sat at his instrument one last time before departing. The music he played was said to be vast and mournful, a farewell to the life of the hermit and a premonition of the long road ahead. Qin Pavilion was built by later generations to honor Zhuge Liang's musicianship and the character it expressed — open on all four sides, the wind moving freely through it, as though you might still catch a note from eighteen hundred years ago.

The garden also holds Tingli Pavilion — the Pavilion for Listening to the Oriole. The name comes from a poem Du Fu wrote about Zhuge Liang: "Green grass fills the stone steps with spring's own color; through the leaves, the oriole sings its beautiful, useless song." Standing before Tingli Pavilion, watching the moss-covered steps half-hidden in grass and listening to the orioles calling in the trees, you understand something of what Du Fu felt when he wrote those lines — the scene is lovely, but the hero is gone, and all the beauty of spring cannot fill the hollow that history left behind.

Rounding through the garden, we arrive at the most solemn place in all of Wuhou Shrine — Huiling, the mausoleum of Liu Bei. This is where the entire complex began. After Liu Bei proclaimed himself emperor in 221 AD, construction of his tomb started immediately. In the third year of Zhangwu (223), Liu Bei died at Baidicheng after entrusting his son to Zhuge Liang's care. Zhuge Liang personally escorted the coffin back to Chengdu, and "in the eighth month of autumn, Emperor Zhaoli was interred at Huiling."

Huiling follows the standard layout of traditional Chinese imperial tombs: arranged along a north-south central axis, the sequence runs from spirit wall to gate to spirit road to main hall to gate tower to the burial mound itself. Standing before the gate and looking up, you see the plaque inscribed "Mausoleum of Emperor Han Zhaoli" — Zhaoli being Liu Bei's posthumous imperial title. Inside the gate, ancient pines and cypresses rise tall on both sides of the spirit road, creating an atmosphere of austere dignity.

Inside the main hall, four large characters hang overhead: "Qian Qiu Lin Ran" — "Through a Thousand Autumns, His Integrity Endures." Beyond the hall is the gate tower, and set into its center face is a stone stele bearing seven characters in standard script: "Tomb of Emperor Zhaoli of Han." Behind the stele rises the burial mound — a circular earthen tumulus twelve meters high with a circumference of 180 meters, covered in dense grass and trees. For eighteen hundred years, the figure buried here has lain in silence: a man who went from selling straw sandals to founding an empire, now resting alongside the two empresses who accompanied him through his life — Consort Gan and Consort Wu. Historical records confirm that Huiling is a joint burial of three.

Running along the outer face of the grey brick wall that encircles Huiling is one of Wuhou Shrine's most beloved spots for photography — the Red Wall Passage. Between two tall walls of deep crimson, a narrow path winds forward, and overhead a dense canopy of bamboo forms a long green archway. Dappled bamboo shadows shift and dance across the red walls; every angle you turn to is a picture. This red wall passage connects Huiling to Zhuge Liang Hall — walking its length means moving from the tomb to the shrine, from Liu Bei to Zhuge Liang. In terms of how the whole space tells its story, this passage is the emotional resolution — walk through the Red Wall Passage, and you have walked the full depth of a bond between ruler and minister that lasted a thousand years.

Coming out of Hui Mausoleum, you'll find Jinli right to the south. During the Three Kingdoms period, Jinli was the most bustling commercial district in Chengdu — the beating heart of the Shu brocade trade. What stands here today is a reconstructed heritage street built close to the original site: cobblestone lanes, red lanterns, carved wooden doors and latticed windows, all hosting an eclectic mix of coffee shops, Sichuan opera face-changing performances, handcrafted sugar art, and boutique souvenirs. If you'd like to bring home something Three Kingdoms-themed — Zhuge Liang's feather fan, a statue of Guan Yu, a embroidered Shu brocade pouch — Jinli is the place to find it. And the street food alone is worth the stop: Sandapao glutinous rice balls, egg waffles, sugar-fried dough bites, bobo chicken skewers... If you've spent a whole morning touring Wuhou Shrine on an empty stomach, Jinli will pull you straight back into the warmth and bustle of everyday life.

And with that, our tour of Wuhou Shrine comes to a close. Let's trace the path we've walked today: the south gate spirit wall, the main gate of Han Zhaolie Temple, the second gate with the Stele of Three Excellences and the ancient cypresses, the Liu Bei Hall with its civil and military corridors, the connecting hall with the Memorial to the Southern Campaign and the Longzhong Discourse, the Zhuge Liang Hall with its Jingyuan Hall plaque, the Gong Xin couplet, and the Zhuge drum, then the Three Righteous Brothers Temple, the garden with Guihe Tower, Qin Pavilion, and Tingli Pavilion, the red-walled passage to Hui Mausoleum, and finally Jinli.

To close, I'd like to draw on the spirit of the Gong Xin couplet. The reason Zhuge Liang has been revered in China for over a thousand years is not simply his brilliance — it's his character. He was a man who gave his whole heart to his country and its people. As he wrote himself: "I will serve with every ounce of my being, until my last breath." And he did exactly that. Eighteen hundred years later, visitors from every corner of the world still stand before his statue and feel the weight of those words — that is the true power of Zhuge Liang's "winning of hearts."

Thank you all, and may the rest of your journey be wonderful!