Urban Archaeology | Ciwu Ancient Town and Its Timeless Handmade Noodles

🌟 Zhuji Ciwu: A Millennium of Time in a Bowl of Handmade Noodles Some say Zhuji is a small city gently embraced by history. As I stroll along the bluestone paths of Ciwu Ancient Town, I feel as if I have traveled back to the Ming and Qing dynasties—the weathered marks on the carved gate towers, the copper bells jingling under the ancestral hall eaves, and even the air filled with the mingling scents of ink and wheat, all carrying an ancient atmosphere. 🏯 The "Handmade Code" Hidden in Time The legend of Ciwu handmade noodles dates back to the Yuan dynasty. Northern immigrants brought the art of stretching noodles to the water towns of Jiangnan. The clever people of Ciwu used local wheat to create the unique "Nine Beatings and Nine Pressings" ancient method: the dough is pounded a thousand times, the rolling pin moves forward and backward three times each, and even the drying process requires the precise strength of "shaking snow to the wind." This craft is now listed as intangible cultural heritage. In the alleys of the old street, you can still hear the "dong dong" sound of wooden rods hitting the chopping board, resembling the footsteps of time. Between the blue bricks and black tiles lie many surprises: the beams and pillars of the Ming dynasty Shen family ancestral hall are engraved with the family motto "Loyalty and Filial Piety Passed Down," and the brick-carved flower windows of Qing dynasty merchant mansions hide scenes from the play "Romance of the Western Chamber." The most touching are the living traditions—white-haired elders sitting on doorsteps sewing cloth shoe soles, children running across the century-old stone arch bridge holding bamboo pinwheels, as if centuries of life have never been disturbed. 🍜 The Cultural Gene on the Tip of the Tongue Before the morning mist has cleared, the door of Yu Xianyou’s old street noodle shop is already open. The master’s figure kneading dough is reflected on the mottled earthen wall, and the bamboo sieves piled by the chopping board still carry the fragrance of last night’s wheat flour. The noodles here speak for themselves; watching the rhythm of the master’s arm movements reveals true craftsmanship—the noodles leap into the pot like silver fish, and when taken out, each strand is chewy and translucent. Topped with a spoonful of Zhuji’s specialty fragrant dried tofu and bamboo shoots, it is the most authentic Jiangnan morning. At the end of the old street stands the Wenchang Pavilion from the Guangxu era. In front of the pavilion is an ancient opera stage where local operas are still performed during festivals. Benches are set up below, often occupied by elderly men humming opera tunes while eating noodles. The steam rising from their bowls mingles with the melodious Yue opera singing on stage, perfectly embodying the city’s inherent elegance. If you ask me what is most charming about Zhuji, it might be this "living, vibrant atmosphere." It is not found in grand museums but in the steam rising from noodle shops, in the sunlight filtering through ancestral hall courtyards, and in the wrinkles of craftsmen passed down through generations. When I left, an old lady selling wooden lotus tofu at the street corner gave me a bag of dried gardenia flowers: "Take it home, soak it in water, and you’ll have the whole summer of Jiangnan."