The word "hutong" is synonymous with history, and Zhuanta is the prototypical example. This lane has born witness to events as far back as the Yuan Dynasty, 700 years ago. During that time, as well as in the Ming and Qing dynasties, Zhuanta was an entertainment center where up to 10 different opera troupes flourished. In early 1900, it was occupied as the headquarters of the Boxers (aka the Righteous and Harmonious Fists) during the Yi Ho Tuan Movement, a drive to expel foreign influences from the city. After the retaliatory Eight Nation Alliance arrived and took control of the city, the hutong was significantly damaged, resulting in the evacuation of the opera players. Soon afterwards, Zhuanta was taken over by ordinary residents.

Zhuanta has also harbored more recent celebrities like Lu Xun and Zhang Henshui, two writers from recent history.

But Zhuanta's most obvious landmark continues to be the brick tower for which the hutong is named. While the residents and homes surrounding it have evolved constantly, this single tower remains as a legacy to its long history.

A monument for a monk

The owner of the tower was an old monk named Wan Song who lived during the early Yuan Dynasty. Before settling in Beijing Wan traveled the country to study Buddhism, and was thus considered quite erudite in his old age. After his death in 1246, people built the brick tower to commemorate this respectable monk.

But Wan's story is not quite so cut and dry. He's also linked to YeL Chucai, the senior assistant of Genghis Khan who later became prime minister of the Yuan Dynasty. Wan was his lifelong tutor, and his advice to manage a country with Confucianism and a heart with Buddhism had a great influence on Ye's governance.

For a time after Wan's death, the tower's significance was forgotten, and individuals moved in to open inns and meat stores. Some nearby residents even used the bricks of the tower for knife grinding. But during the Ming Dynasty, a traveling monk from the south named Le Yan passed through. Realizing the true story of the tower, he bought it and funded its reconstruction with donations, living there as its safeguard until his own death.

Le Yan's reconstruction of the 10-meter tall, nine-floor tower would not be its last; a more recent one was in 1976, to repair damage after the Tang Shan earthquake. Fortunately, the tower's original Yuan Dynasty style has been preserved.

The writers' home

Zhuanta Hutong, as mentioned, was also home to writer and noted house-hopper Lu Xun, who moved into No. 64 (which is now No. 84) after splitting up with his brother, Zhou Zuoren (see last week's HOTW). The small, shabby door and narrow yard in the corner of the hutong hardly seem like a suitable residence for one of China's most well known writers, but when Lu moved there in 1923, he was going through a rough patch. His poor financial condition meant he had to squeeze into the three-room house with his mother and wife; the two women occupied the side rooms, while Lu stayed in the middle room, which was used as a living room during the day and his workroom at night. Still, he managed to accomplish masterpieces like Zhu Fu (Blessing) during this period.

The modern neighbors are unfazed. "You should go to the Lu Xun museum not here," an old man living in No. 64 said. "All the houses in this siheyuan were completely reconstructed 2 decades ago."

Lu only spent a year in Zhuanta, but the writer Zhang Henshui lived in No. 43 spent half his life in this hutong. In 1946, Zhang came from Nanjing to Beijing to organize the Beijing version of the Xin Min Newspaper. He bought around 30 houses for newspaper staff to work and live; the back door of the paper's siheyuan opened onto Zhuanta. In his article "Hei Xiangxing" ("A Walk in a Dark Lane"), Zhang wrote of falling into a world of darkness and quiet.

While the atmosphere remains the same, Zhang's old place has been completely razed. Apart from a few old locust trees, nothing of the houses remains.

Invisible opera houses and temples

However quiet it is now, the hutong was once considered one of the busiest places for opera activities, where songs and music played from morning till night during the last three dynasties. There were approximately 20 theaters, some large enough to accommodate audiences in the thousands. That's all history now; the music is long gone.

Not far from the tower, some private small restaurants and stores have replaced the original inns that occupied 50 meters of roadside from the entrance. Some migrant workers finish their day's work having dinner and beers in a noodle restaurant. The lights are on in other stores, but no one's shopping. Many people pass by on the main road, but none seem to see the hutong entrance, and no one bothers to enter.

If they did, they might happen across one door in particular, with a note reading "Historical Remains Under Official Protection." A 60-year-old woman who was born and raised in the hutong explained that this was the old Guan Yu Temple. "Actually, the original temple was there when I was young, but it was thoroughly razed during the Cultural Revolution and nothing else remains," she said. In that case, the note's claim seems farfetched or is but a sign of a burst of attention to heritage that has come decades too late.

Although it is situated at the entrance of the hutong, the tower currently is not easy to find. A 50-year-old woman surnamed Zhang, who has lived in the area for decades, explained that new reconstruction commenced in 2008 but has yet to be completed. According to Xicheng district's website, the tower is leaning three degrees to the northeast. That and the consideration of potential shifting due to construction of Subway Line 4 prompted the city to erect scaffolding around the tower for support. Xu Wei, the vice president of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference of Xicheng district, said that the stabilized tower would be partially reconstructed and also observed to see if the subway has an impact on it before it's reopened to the public.