The Tang Xianzu Memorial Hall in Fuzhou is a comprehensive cultural venue built to commemorate Tang Xianzu, one of the world’s hundred great cultural figures and a master of Ming‑dynasty drama in China. It is also one of Jiangxi Province’s ten major memorial halls dedicated to historical luminaries.
The Twenty-Four Solar Terms at the Soup House | Frost’s Descent: The air grows crisp and still, and dew freezes into frost.
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2023-10-24
Frost Descent
Two Ten Four Festival air

The Three Stages of Frost Descent
At the first period, jackals offer sacrifices to beasts.

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The second hou: grass and trees turn yellow and shed their leaves.

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The third hou: all hibernating insects lie still.

Frost Descent Customs
The myriad delightful customs associated with the Frost’s Descent reflect people’s heartfelt aspiration for physical well-being, while also lending a distinctive hue to China’s rich tapestry of folk traditions.
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Chrysanthemum Appreciation

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Climbing high

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Pulling up a radish

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Eat persimmons

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Cold Clothes Festival

Health Preservation During the Frost Descent Season
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Daily Living: Dress warmly, and don’t linger in bed in the morning.
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Diet: Nourishing yourself in winter isn’t as good as nourishing yourself at the Frost’s Descent.
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Exercise: Pay attention to the proper balance between activity and rest.
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Emotional well-being: Maintain a positive mindset.

Poems on the Frost’s Descent
“Rather Cold in the Four Days Before Frost’s Descent”
Song Dynasty, Lu You
The grass and trees first turn yellow and fall, while the winds and clouds repeatedly close and part.
With the children having finished hoeing the wheat, the neighbors return in a festival procession.
The eagle strikes, heralding the approaching frost; the stork’s cry foretells the coming rain.
Do not lament the rise and fall of emperors; even ashes may yet be rekindled.
“Ode to the Twenty-Four Solar Terms: Frost’s Descent, Mid-September”
Tang Yuanzhen
The wind sweeps away the clear clouds, leaving a sky of frost stretching for ten thousand miles.
The wild jackal first offers a sacrifice to the moon, while the immortal chrysanthemum meets the Double Ninth Festival.
The autumn hues mourn the sparse trees, and the wild geese’s cries evoke my hometown.
Who would have thought that a single cup of wine could bring about the ruin of a hundred autumns?
“Nanxiangzi: On the Double Ninth Festival, Presented to Lord Xu Junyou at Hanhui Tower”
Song Dynasty, Su Shi
Frost and rain have left the traces of water receding. Shallow azure, like scales, reveals the distant islet.
The wine’s strength fades, the breeze grows gentle—whistling softly. That tattered hat, so full of sentiment, still clings to my head.
If the festive season is to be celebrated, let us simply see autumn off with a cup of clear wine.
In the end, all things are but dreams—let it be. Even the butterfly grieves at the sight of tomorrow’s yellow chrysanthemums.

Tang, Zhang Jiuling
The floodwaters recede, and the sands emerge; with frost’s descent, the heavens gleam crystal‑clear.
Leaning on the railing, I gaze into the distance; along the riverbank, my heart is filled with far-reaching thoughts.
Thinking of the rivers and mountains beyond, I gaze until the mist and clouds arise.
The torrent flows on without self‑discernment; what, then, is the point of such ceaseless toil?
I come with my hair streaked with gray; who would say that my ornate cap has been swept away?
The wild horse suffers in its cramped pen, while the caged bird longs for distant journeys.
The year’s shadow turns toward evening, and day by day I linger, restless before the empty screen.
Things are precious because they accord with one’s nature; the body is burdened by the pursuit of fame.
Looking inward, I feel that the present is right; yet I long in vain for the day when peace shall reign.
“Ascending Li Mingfu’s North Tower on the Ninth Day”
Tang Dynasty, Liu Changqing
On the ninth day, I climb high and gaze afar; the verdant trees in the distance seem low.
Amidst the human settlements, lakes, and grasses, the verdant mountains lie to the west of the county tower.
At the frost’s descent, the wild geese’s cries grow sharp; as autumn deepens, the traveler’s thoughts grow lost.
No need for wine from the common folk; Tao Qian himself goes forth in companionship.
“Sending Li Zhu on a Journey Beyond the River”
Tang Dynasty, Cen Shen
We’ve known each other for ten years, yet I’ve seen you in only one official capacity.
Though my home is poor and my salary meager, even at the frost’s descent my clothes remain thin.
Melancholy as the autumn grasses wither, desolate at the year’s waning.
And I seek the road to Cangzhou, pointing from afar toward the clouds over Wu.
A lone horse, the frontier passes far away; a solitary boat, the rivers and seas vast and wide.
At night, the mist over Chu is damp; at dawn, the meal by the lakes and mountains is cold.
The chopping board is clean, red carp fall; the sleeves are fragrant with clusters of crimson oranges.
Before the sail, I glimpse the Temple of Yu; beneath my pillow, I hear the murmurs of Yan Tan.
Then one finds delight and pleasure—how could one still lament the hardships of the journey?
At Qingmen, we must drink to part; for a while, let us unfasten our saddlebags.
"Year's End"
Tang Dynasty, Bai Juyi
Frost and rain return to the ravines, while the wind drives the leaves back to the mountains.
As the year gently draws to a close, all things return to their original source.
Why have these southern migrants, after five years, still not returned?
Fate’s decree is already set; the longer time passes, the more at peace my heart grows.
I have also, with heart and mouth, quietly recited to myself.
Leaving one’s country is hardly a joy, and returning home does not necessarily bring happiness.
Why endure self-inflicted suffering, when one can abandon the easy in pursuit of the difficult?
This illustrated article is excerpted from “Poems and Calligraphy of China’s Twenty-Four Solar Terms,” Ancient Poetry and Prose Network, the China Meteorological Administration website, and Baidu.