Liaoning Provincial Museum's Treasures: A Long Poem of Civilization Spanning a Thousand Years

In early spring, I entered the Liaoning Provincial Museum with reverence. In a trance, it seemed as if a scholar in a blue robe, scroll in hand, approached, softly reciting in my ear: "Observe humanity, and transform the world." This dialogue with history unfolded slowly in a rhythm imbued with ancient charm. A seal and a bronze seal, echoing the bronze swan song of the pre-Qin era. At the entrance of the exhibition hall, a pair of Shoushan stone dragon-knobbed seals stood quietly. The stone was warm and lustrous, the dragon patterns lively, seemingly telling the story of the spirit of Ming and Qing literati. I suddenly recalled Wen Zhengming's praise, "An iron pen produces flowers, a square inch holds the heart." These seals, aren't they also the artistic practice of the ancients, using stone as paper and a knife as pen? Turning around, I encountered a Warring States period bronze covered dou (a type of ancient Chinese vessel), its body adorned with coiled dragon patterns like flowing water, its three pointed knobs pointing straight to the sky. "The great affairs of the state are sacrifice and war," the proverb from the *Zuo Zhuan* echoed in my ears. Imagine, over two thousand years ago, it once held offerings, witnessing the rise and fall of the Yan region in ancestral temple sacrifices. Such fervent faith was hidden within the cold hardness of that bronze. Beside it, a bronze pot, covered in studded patterns, its lid adorned with a majestic and imposing beast-shaped knob, evokes a sense of grandeur. In a fleeting moment, I seem to see Yan nobles pouring wine, their toasts a testament to the era's passion and camaraderie. A single piece of porcelain, a single glaze, imbued with the poetic charm of the Tang and Song dynasties. Entering the ceramics exhibition hall, a Yuan dynasty blue-and-white Yuhuchun vase catches the eye. The lotus pond and mandarin duck design on the vase is rendered with lively brushstrokes, the blue-and-white glaze perfectly balanced in shades. "The unglazed body is outlined with blue-and-white brushstrokes, thick then thin," Jay Chou's lyrics come to life here. I imagine the kilns of Jingdezhen, where artisans, stroke by stroke, infused the poetry of Jiangnan into the porcelain body. This vase, having traveled thousands of miles to Liaodong, stands as a silent witness to the fusion of northern and southern cultures. Beside me, a Jun ware bowl with a sky-blue glaze, its glaze as clear as the azure sky, its crackled patterns resembling ice fissures, hinting at the legendary scene of "the sky clearing after rain, where the clouds break." I crouched down, examining it closely, and suddenly understood why the ancients were so fascinated by Jun ware—it was a dialogue between human skill and nature, the ultimate interpretation of "following the way of nature." A robe and a Buddha, weaving a magnificent chapter of faith in the Ming and Qing dynasties. A Ming dynasty blue-ground, cloud-dragon patterned, gold-embroidered satin robe hangs quietly, the dragon pattern shimmering in the light. "The emperor wears a red robe, the feudal lords wear black robes," the hierarchical system of the *Book of Rites* is vividly portrayed on this robe. My fingertips brushed the satin, as if I could touch the solemnity and luxury of the Ming dynasty court; every stitch, every thread, was the craftsman's devout worship of the ritual system. In a corner, a Qing dynasty bronze Guanyin statue stands serene and compassionate, flanked by Sudhana and a dragon maiden in various poses. "The Bodhisattva's compassion delivers all from suffering," the chanting of the Heart Sutra seemed to echo in the exhibition hall. This statue, exquisitely crafted, its gilding on the bronze body, though mottled, only amplifies the weight of time. How many prayers of believers has it listened to in the Buddhist hall, and how many dynasties have it witnessed? As I stepped out of the exhibition hall, the golden rays of the setting sun bathed the eaves of the Liaoning Provincial Museum. Looking back at this building, I suddenly understood that it is not merely a museum, but a three-dimensional history book. "By studying history, one can understand the rise and fall of dynasties," the words of Emperor Taizong of Tang resonated across time. During my day at the Liaoning Provincial Museum, I conversed with pre-Qin bronzes, confided in Tang and Song porcelains, and resonated with Ming and Qing textiles and sculptures. Those silent artifacts, illuminated by poetry and famous sayings, shone with the brilliance of civilization once more. This journey was like a spiritual dialogue with the ancients, intoxicated by the rich aroma of history, and keenly aware of the responsibility to pass on civilization.