To prevent escapes, migrants were bound hand behind their backs and linked together with a long rope for the long journey. The captives kept looking back. Elders pointed to the tree and told children: “This is our hometown.” No matter where they live today, all descendants regard this pagoda tree site as their ancestral home. Bound for so long, their arms grew numb, and they gradually got used to walking with hands behind their backs — a habit still kept by their offspring. On the long march, migrants frequently needed to relieve themselves. They had to beg the guards: “Sir, untie my hands.” Gradually the request was shortened to simply “Untie me.” Over time, the phrase “untie me” became a euphemism for urinating.

After arriving at their new wilderness settlements, migrants built houses and reclaimed farmland with their own hands. Everything reminded them of their hometown scenery. To cherish memories of their homeland, most planted pagoda trees in courtyards and at gateways of their new homes. Some even named their villages after their native places. For instance, in the suburbs of Beijing there are villages named Zhaochengying, Hongtongying, Puzhouying and Zhangziying, marking the origins of these early settlers.

On the wall of the small ancestral worship room hangs a list of surnames of pagoda tree descendants, recording more than 450 family names with memorial tablets — far more than the Hundred Family Surnames. All these clans trace their roots to the mass migration six hundred years ago. The list is displayed publicly for root-seeking visitors. In recent decades, people on the Chinese mainland have been compiling family genealogies, while overseas Chinese keep coming here to worship ancestors and trace their bloodline to the Big Pagoda Tree.

More than six hundred years have passed. The original Han-dynasty pagoda tree has vanished in the tide of history. However, the third-generation tree grown from the same root stands luxuriant and vigorous beside the old site. Descendants of this pagoda tree community now live in more than 400 counties across over 20 provinces in China, and even in some South Asian countries and regions.

Recalling the past: our ancestors left home with the old and young, shedding countless tears while glancing back at the big tree and kite nests again and again. May the Big Pagoda Tree forever bind the roots and hearts of Chinese people at home and overseas.

Fragrance brushes travellers’ robes for a hearty drink; Shade veils the ancient road beneath the setting sun.

Tea quenches thirst, its clear aroma embodying worldly flavours; The pavilion preserves relics, and pagoda trees lining the road awaken hometown affections.

Willows bid farewell, pagodas welcome arrivals; Every visitor here feels the grief of leaving one’s motherland. Water remembers its source, trees cherish their roots; Even today, nostalgia for hometown still stirs our hearts.

Fame spreads wide for this noble ancient tree; Its shade brings blessings to all generations