A Miniature Chang’an in the Frozen North

Beneath the fertile black soil of Ning’an Town by the Mudan River in Heilongjiang lies a buried marvel—a meticulously crafted replica of Tang Dynasty Chang’an. This 1,200-year-old capital of the Bohai Kingdom (698–926 AD) mirrored its idol with startling precision: rectangular city walls, palace complexes, forbidden gardens, and even a 2,100-meter-long “Vermilion Bird Avenue” stretching 110 meters wide. As the New Book of Tang recorded, this “Prosperous Kingdom East of the Sea” boasted five capitals, fifteen prefectures, and sixty-two counties, its territory stretching from the Amur River to the Korean Peninsula. Yet today, this once-flourishing civilization has vanished without a trace. What happened to this Tang Dynasty superfan?

Rise from the Ashes of Goguryeo

Bohai’s emergence filled the power vacuum left by Goguryeo’s collapse. After Tang and Silla destroyed Goguryeo in 668 AD, the Tang Empire—preoccupied with Türks and Tibetans—couldn’t consolidate control over Manchuria. Silla seized northern Korea, while Tang’s Andong Protectorate managed only the Liaoxi Corridor. Among the resettled tribes in Yingzhou (modern Chaoyang) were the Mohe people, including Da Zuorong’s father, Qiqi Zhongxiang.

The turning point came in 696 AD with the Yingzhou Rebellion. When Khitan leader Li Jinzhong rebelled against Wu Zetian’s Zhou Dynasty, Da Zuorong’s family allied with the Khitans. After the rebellion’s suppression, they fled eastward, defeating Zhou forces at Tianmen Ridge. By 698 AD, with Türkic invasions distracting the Zhou, Da Zuorong declared himself “King of Zhen,” absorbing Mohe tribes and playing neighboring powers against each other. By 713 AD, Emperor Xuanzong legitimized him as “Prince of Bohai,” cementing the kingdom’s Tang-style bureaucracy, military, and Confucian culture.

The Khitan Reckoning

For two centuries, Bohai thrived as a Tang proxy state—until the Khitans rose. In 926 AD, Khitan leader Abaoji conquered Bohai in a lightning campaign, capturing its last king, Da Yinxu. The History of Liao tersely notes the surrender:

> “Dressed in mourning, Da Yinxu led 300 officials to submit… The Khitan emperor pardoned him but dismantled the kingdom.”

Abaoji established the puppet “Eastern Khitan State” under his son Yelü Bei, but after Abaoji’s death, successor Yelü Deguang forcibly relocated Bohai elites to Liaodong to prevent rebellions. Resistance flared: Da Yinxu’s brother reclaimed the old capital, while Prince Da Guangxian declared a “Later Bohai” in the Yalu region. These revolts—though ultimately crushed—proved Bohai’s lingering identity.

Jin Dynasty’s Assimilation Gamble

Unlike the Khitans, the Jurchens shared ethnic roots with Bohai’s Mohe ancestors. Jurchen leader Wanyan Aguda wooed Bohai defectors during his anti-Liao campaign, declaring:

> “Jurchens and Bohai are one family. We punish only the guilty.”

Yet when Bohai leader Gao Yongchang rebelled in 1116 AD to restore independence, the Jurchens crushed him, imposing their meng’an-mouke tribal system. Remarkably, the Jin Dynasty then co-opted Bohai elites:

– Political Integration: Chancellor Gao Qingzhi and architect Zhang Hao shaped Jin institutions.
– Royal Marriages: Four Bohai princesses married Jin emperors; three Jin rulers had Bohai mothers.
– Military Mobilization: Bohai troops like Guo Pharmacy spearheaded the 1127 sack of Kaifeng.

By the 12th century, Jin policies deliberately merged Bohai with Han Chinese—mandating shared customs and language. The 1169 AD decree even allowed Bohai-Han intermarriage. By the Yuan Dynasty, “Bohai” survived only as a relic term in Tao Zongyi’s Notes from the South Village.

Legacy: Echoes in the Manchurian Wind

Bohai’s legacy persists subtly:

1. Architectural Ghosts: Its “Upper Capital” ruins inspired Qing Dynasty’s Mukden Palace.
2. Diplomatic Blueprint: Bohai’s Japan-Korea-Tang diplomacy presaged later Manchurian states.
3. Ethnic Alchemy: Modern DNA studies trace Bohai descendants among Manchus and Koreans.

As historian Chen Yinke noted, Bohai’s fate reflects Northeast Asia’s cyclical pattern: “Conquerors rise, cultures merge, but the black soil remembers.” The kingdom’s true epitaph may lie in its own motto—carved on a surviving steppe:

> “Though our walls crumble, our books endure.”

Today, as archaeologists brush frost from Bohai’s buried palaces, this “Tang of the Tundra” whispers anew—a testament to cultural imitation’s power and history’s relentless tides.