Among China’s four most renowned Buddhist grottoes—Mogao, Longmen, Maijishan, and Yungang—it’s the Yungang Grottoes that left the deepest impression on me. Nestled on the southern slopes of Wuzhou Mountain in the western outskirts of Datong, Shanxi Province, Yungang carries both historical gravity and an almost spiritual serenity. Interestingly, “Yungang” itself refers to the mountain, from which the site gets its name.
What sets Yungang apart is its remarkable unity of vision. Unlike many heritage sites that took shape over centuries and under various dynasties, the Yungang Grottoes were largely completed during a single chapter in Chinese history—the Northern Wei dynasty. This concentrated effort makes it not just an artistic marvel, but also a compelling lens into a moment when Buddhism was taking root in China, deeply entwined with imperial ambitions.

Construction began in 453 AD under Emperor Wencheng. As the story goes, a Buddhist monk named Tan Yao traveled to Pingcheng (now modern-day Datong), then the capital of Northern Wei. One day, during the emperor’s procession, a royal horse is said to have gently tugged at Tan Yao’s robe. This unusual moment was taken as a divine sign. The emperor, intrigued, invited Tan Yao to his court and eventually took him on as a spiritual advisor. It was Tan Yao who proposed the idea of carving caves into Wuzhou Mountain—not just to promote Buddhism, but to project the empire’s moral and spiritual authority.
Over the next five decades, more than 40,000 artisans, laborers, monks, and even pilgrims from as far away as Sri Lanka contributed to this grand endeavor. The result is a breathtaking fusion of early Chinese Buddhist aesthetics with stylistic elements from India and even the Greco-Roman world—a reminder of how interconnected ancient civilizations truly were.
The grottoes today are divided into two broad sections: Caves 1 through 20 were commissioned directly by the imperial court, while Caves 21 to 45 were funded by private patrons. Each one offers a distinct atmosphere—some meditative and solemn, others exuberantly ornate.

Here are a few highlights from my visit:
Caves 1 & 2: These are paired temple caves, mirroring one another with their symmetrical layouts and central pillars carved in the style of Han-era wooden pagodas. I loved how they evoked a sense of timeless architectural continuity.
Cave 3: The largest cave at Yungang, it houses a towering Amitabha Buddha. Around mid-afternoon, a beam of sunlight streams through a high window and lands directly on the statue’s face. The effect is almost cinematic—it gave me goosebumps.
Cave 5 & 6: Cave 5 contains the tallest seated Buddha in the complex, standing a mighty 17 meters high. Cave 6 next door is a gem of detail, with thousands of tiny carvings that invite you to slow down and look closer.
Cave 12: Dubbed the “Music Cave,” it delighted me with its joyful depictions of heavenly musicians playing ancient instruments. Its formal name is the “Pure Land Bodhisattva Cave,” but to me, it felt like walking into a silent concert.
Cave 15: The “Ten Thousand Buddhas Cave” truly lives up to its name—the walls are covered in rows upon rows of miniature Buddha figures. Standing inside feels like being enveloped by the teachings of the Dharma.

Cave 18: A small window here looks directly across at a standing Buddha. As I stood there, it felt like the statue was quietly watching me—not in judgment, but with compassion.
Cave 19 & 20: These are two of the most iconic. Cave 19 holds Yungang’s second-largest Buddha, while Cave 20 is the famed “Open-Air Buddha,” said to be modeled after the founding Northern Wei emperor, Daowu. Many visitors (myself included!) love taking photos in front of it with an outstretched palm—it looks like you’re high-fiving the Buddha.
What struck me most about Yungang was how walkable and accessible the site is. You don’t need a shuttle bus—just a good pair of shoes and time to wander. Each cave offers something unique, whether it’s awe-inspiring scale, delicate artistry, or moments of quiet revelation.
In a world where spirituality and politics often collide or blur, the Yungang Grottoes stand as an enduring reminder of how faith once helped shape an empire—not just in stone, but in vision.