Caged heat from Yao'er Hutong

If you're in Qianmen and being driven to despair by the modern "traditional style" street, there are plenty of nearby hutong to explore. Yao'er is located south of Qianmen Main Street, and its name used to mean literally "want son."

But only local residents will be able to tell you that the reason for its name is because a Ming Dynasty family of obstetricians lived in this street for generations. Now "yao'er" more commonly means a kind of bird of prey.

A Robin Hood in Beijing

Its main claim to fame, though, is the former Metropolitan Police Detective Center at No.5 established in 1905, where criminals would be remanded and tried. Such folk legends as Li Jinghua, a Chinese Robin Hood figure said to have stolen from the wealthy as they slept and distributed his loot among the poor, were imprisoned here. Li was known as "Swallow" due to his ability to nip up walls and over roofs like a nimble bird. He was even known to leave behind origami swallows after a theft as a signature.

Li was detained and escaped many times, so much so that at one jail he was befriended by a prison officer who made life easy for Li to persuade him not to abscond. A little too easy, in fact - soon Li was being allowed out at night to steal and the two were sharing the spoils. When that got out, the pair were detained at No.5. To prevent escape, Li's legs were put in stocks. This time it was over for Li, and rumor has it that he died at the No.5 detention center in 1936.

A less shady character who also spent time at the prison was Zhang Guotao, an early leader of the Communist Party (see Laku Hutong: a royal revolutionary lane, March 4, 2010). After much torture, Zhang coughed up the names, resulting in a mass arrest of Communist Party members, a serious setback for the Party.

Know the skinny?

Today the hutong is crowded with migrant workers who know nothing of its past, but I spoke to a couple of locals in their 50s who knew a bit. Zhang Jinting, 50, was born in this lane, like his father, and confirmed the story of No 5.

"That was a horrible place at the time," said Zhang. "It was said that once you were in there, you wouldn't leave without parts of your skin missing." 70-year-old Wang, who's lived here since the 1950s, says that even though the size of No.5 has shrunk today, it still houses about 60 families.

According to another old-timer, the lane has changed little since then, apart from a hotel built about 40 years ago on the site of a small Guan Yu temple in the middle of the lane. "During the Republic of China, there were two small theaters located here as well," he recalled. He told me after 1949, No.5 was occupied by the fire department and a police station before it became a da za yuan (meaning a place where many families share in one courtyard) as it is now.

Despite its grim past, Li, the 30-year-old migrant worker I spoke to, had no qualms. She saw me taking photos and told me her only concern is that the hutong would wind up on the demolition hit list, and that it would be my fault. "Our former residence was also in a hutong nearby," said Li. "It was demolished just after somebody came and took photos. If it's the same case here, then we'll have to find somewhere else to live again!"