The Last Singer of Hexi Baojuan
Wuwei · Gansu · China
I didn't expect to cry after leaving a small courtyard in Wuwei.
Before this trip, I had never thought much about Wuwei. To me, it was mostly known for Leitai Han Tomb and little else. Around noon, while eating at a local restaurant, the owner suggested we visit Tiantishan Grottoes.
I had never heard of it before.
Later I learned that Tiantishan is considered one of the earliest grotto sites in China — older than many of the cave temples people immediately recognize, like Mogao or Longmen. But when we arrived, the place was almost empty. A few visitors wandered quietly between the cliffs. Most of the pathways were silent.
Near the entrance, I noticed a small sign for a Hexi Baojuan heritage center.
Inside, an elderly man was sitting alone reading a newspaper.
We started talking. He told me he was a heritage inheritor of Hexi Baojuan, a form of storytelling and singing tradition that has existed in the Hexi Corridor for generations. The more he spoke, the more curious I became.
The Courtyard Behind the Alley
A while later, he climbed into our car and guided us toward a nearby town.
Hidden behind a narrow alley was a small courtyard that served as his research center. Inside were a tiny museum, old performance props, handwritten texts, and a simple stage built in the middle of the yard.
After showing us around, he stood on the stage and sang a section of Baojuan for us.
The melody caught me off guard.
It sounded almost identical to the songs my grandmother used to hum when I was a child.
For a moment, the courtyard no longer felt unfamiliar.
No Students Left
When he finished singing, I asked whether he had students continuing the tradition.
He shook his head gently.
"Young people aren't interested anymore. If I don't keep talking about it, people may eventually forget it completely."
No one spoke much after that.
When we left the courtyard, the melody was still stuck in my head.
On the drive back to the city, I kept thinking about how quietly certain things disappear.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
Just slowly, until one day there is no one left who remembers the song.