In the early 2010s, the monks of Guiyuan Monastery in Hanyang resolved to raise a pavilion that would both enshrine a colossal jade Buddha and revive the lost art of all-wood construction. They commissioned timber specialist Ma Bingjian, who drew inspiration from ancient pagodas and the intricate corner towers of the Forbidden City. On a cleared plot behind the main hall, carpenters from Jiangxi and Zhejiang began fitting thousands of mortise-and-tenon joints, assembling the rising tiers without a single nail or drop of steel glue.

Rising 51 meters, the square pavilion appears to have three storeys but conceals five interior levels. Its projecting bays shift orientation on each floor, creating a dynamic silhouette that changes with every viewpoint. The roof, clad in dark grey tiles, curves outward at the eaves, supported by interlocking bracket sets that transfer weight to massive columns of Indonesian hardwood. Inside, the air smells of camphor and cedar. A single block of Kunlun Mountain jade, weighing 3.2 tons, stands carved into a serene Buddha, illuminated by shafts of daylight filtering through latticed windows.

For the first years, the pavilion served only as a repository for sutras and a meditation hall for senior monks. In 2015, the temple opened the lower floors to the public, displaying historical photographs of the building process alongside fragments of discarded metal nails—proof of the craftsmen's pledge to use none. Today, the Hanyang Yuantong Pavilion of Guiyuan Monastery stands not merely as a place of worship, but as a living classroom of traditional Chinese carpentry, where ancient techniques find new breath in modern Wuhan.