I like to visit a place with history. It never fails to inspire my curiosity and ignite imaginations. Unlike other tourist attractions, a historical site usually means you have to make an effort to discover its hidden details. Once you get beneath the surface, you’ll experience a journey that feels like crossing the time.

If there is a Japanese Top List, Ancient Castle must go up above Top Ten. Nothing could be better to represent the Warring States Period in Japan. As the most famous saying goes, it was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness. It was the season of light, it was the season of darkness. During this period, the country had been tangled, Balkanized for nearly 200 years, with more than 50 Daimios controlling different areas. Wars never ceased. Stories about love and hate, repression and resistance, loyalty and betray, happened one after another.

If you can only visit one Japanese Castle, then go to Himeji city. It is a remarkable mix of the Poetry and War. When coming to a war fortification, we usually think about the “Great Wall”—grand, heavy and unbreakable, but nothing related to elegant or beauty. Perhaps only in Japan, a war defensive structure could be built in such an elegant almost poetrylike style. The appearance of Himeji City is pure white, from the distance it looks like an aigrette spreading its wings. Unlike many other Castles, its inside has been kept pretty much like what it was 700 years old. In July, Summer bitch had just tightened his control over the city with its smothering heat and blazing sunlight. Therefore, there was something most alluring about stepping into the castle and being overwhelmed by the solitude and pleasant coolness. Of course, there was no air-conditioner there, just the magic spell cast by an ancient building. As soon as I stepped in, I felt the outside world evaporate with a sudden hush. No rumble of traffic, no hiss of voices. Just a deafening silence, which seemed to reverberate back and forth as if the building were whispering a long-forgotten secret in my ear. Amazing, isn’t it?