Before our eyes lies a tranquil corner of the ancient Foguang Temple, a millennium-old sanctuary. The massive vermilion columns, slightly inclined inward, stand like weathered yet steadfast guardians, solidly supporting the far-reaching, overhanging eaves. Gazing upward, one sees the intricate and tiered bracket sets (dougong), resembling blossoming wooden lotuses unfurling between the eaves and column tops—serving as both critical load-bearing elements and the most resplendent medals of their era. The eaves themselves form a graceful yet powerful arc, clad in time-worn gray tiles that sweep steadily across the lofty sky. In the shadows of the brackets and beams, the deep umber hues of accumulated years harmonize richly with the vermilion pillars and the mottled tones of the doors. Slanting sunlight casts warm highlights along the wood grain, as if one could almost touch the fragrance of Tang-era timber and the warmth of history. This corner lacks flamboyant paintings or ostentatious carvings. Instead, it embodies the sheer strength and beauty of structure itself—the most direct and awe-inspiring manifestation of the "Tang Dynasty spirit." Silent yet eloquent, it stands as a testament to the brilliance and confidence of Chinese classical architecture at its zenith.