We followed a procession of guides carrying colored flags through a maze of hutongs.

Every few minutes another group merged into ours, then peeled away again.

Neither of us seemed to know where the mansion was. We simply followed the flag in front of us.

When the walls finally appeared, their paint looked impossibly fresh.

Red columns.

Green beams.

Gold trim.

Even the ornamentation seemed to have seams, as though someone had hung it there yesterday.

Flowerbeds lined white stone walkways.

Nothing looked neglected.

Nothing looked old.

We opened the first door.

Locked again.

Dani tried the handle and shrugged.

“Maybe this one isn’t for visitors.”

We followed the path around the courtyard.

Another building stood ahead, its doors painted the same brilliant red as everything else.

I tried one.

Locked.

A family walked past us carrying a little boy between them. They didn’t even look at the doors.

They kept going, and so did we.

Another courtyard.

Another building.

Another locked door.

“Are we doing this wrong?”

Dani looked around.

There were no signs. No ropes. No explanations.

Eventually we found a doorway with people going in.

We followed them.

Inside, a woman sat behind a glass case containing watercolor paintings of tigers.

We walked slowly around the room.

“Is this it?”

“I guess.”

A few minutes later we found another open building. Two silk robes hung beneath glass.

Then we were outside again.

~

Dani stopped beneath a covered walkway and looked back across another perfect courtyard.

“This feels like Disney World.”

I looked again.

Water slipped beneath carved stone bridges.

Fresh paint caught the afternoon light without a crack or stain.

Every roof tile matched.

A couple posed for wedding photographs beneath a pavilion.

A gardener knelt beside a flower bed, trimming leaves one by one with tiny shears.

Dani watched him for a moment.

“They really do keep it perfect.”

I raised my camera.

Then lowered it again.

~

We left through the same gate as everyone else.

The street outside was louder than I remembered.

Cars hissed over wet pavement.

Someone shouted from a food cart.

Outside, rain had stained the walls.

The rooflines didn’t match.

Cracks ran through the plaster.

I stopped, and for a second, I looked back at the gate.