In Qiqihar’s Longsha Park, a three-story imperial Chinese palace stands on the former grounds of a Qing dynasty temple. The structure precisely mimics the Yanchun Pavilion of the Forbidden City’s imperial gardens. Designed in 1930 by a German engineer named Max, the building utilizes modern reinforced concrete to house something highly fragile: paper.

Every architectural decision serves the preservation of knowledge in a harsh climate. The builders cast twenty-two white columns to form a wraparound corridor. Above these columns, wide extending eaves dominate the exterior. These overhangs act as a calculated shield. They block direct sunlight from fading the ink of ancient manuscripts. At the same time, they admit enough ambient light to fill the reading rooms inside. The exceptionally thick concrete walls maintain a stable interior temperature, protecting the collections from insect damage and the brutal Manchurian winters. Beneath the floorboards, a basement boiler room provided central heating—a rare technological luxury in 1930s northern China.

The facade blends engineering with cultural symbolism. Along the roofline, carved dragon heads swallow the ridges, and elephant motifs anchor the four corners of the eaves. The upper column capitals feature twenty-six square still-life paintings, framed by golden ruyi floral patterns and Xuanwu cloud motifs. On the first floor, traditional bird-and-flower paintings decorate the column tops. A single aberration disrupts this natural theme. One column on the western edge bears a painting of a solitary human figure, quietly watching the grounds.

The physical heaviness of the building mirrors the historical weight of its contents. Wanjuange, the Pavilion of Ten Thousand Volumes, currently safeguards over 114,000 ancient texts. Among these are a Tang dynasty manuscript and a rare Qing dynasty edition of the Book of Odes printed in both Manchu and Chinese. The most significant artifact in the archive is a hand-copied manuscript of Longsha Jian Chuanqi (The Legend of the Longsha Sword). Penned by Fang Shiji, a scholar exiled to this remote frontier, the play represents the earliest known dramatic text from Heilongjiang.

Centuries ago, this high ground overlooking the Nen River drew crowds seeking divine favor at the Pu'en Temple. By the twentieth century, local leaders, warlords, and exiles had transformed the site into a secular sanctuary for memory. The concrete columns and deep eaves continue to hold back the weather and the passage of time. The building functions as an enduring shelter, keeping the fragile records of human thought safe from the cold.