Rising 768 meters above sea level, this granite titan—historically known as "Rooster Stone"—has guarded Jigong Mountain since the Ming Dynasty. Its current name dates to 1934 when Henan Governor Li Peiji inscribed "Baoxiao Feng" (Peak of Dawn Announcement) atop its summit, cementing its identity as the mountain’s symbolic sentinel.

The peak’s uncanny resemblance to a majestic rooster reveals itself through geological poetry: its northwest-facing "head" sports a comb-like ridge and beak-shaped overhang, while the southeastern "tail" cascades into the Linghua and Changling ridges—two "wings" flanked by claw-like gullies. Up close, the formation suggests a contented fowl at rest; from afar, it becomes a celestial herald mid-crow.

Established in 1912, the name of Sister Building came from its physical appearance of a two-body structure, the north side and the south side. Each building has 3 floors. Sister building is located on the west hill of the South Street, at the north end of Ji-Gong ridge. Along with other buildings, they constitute a unique site at the Hongniang Villiage.

The Taoist culture community and temples are located on the south side of the Baoxiao Valley. Taoism is an ancient Chinese philosophy that emphasizes harmony. The location had been a traditional residential area for Taoists. The Cloud Temple is located in the center of the complex with its name deriving from the cloud and mist present in the park.

Gu’s Mansion was constructed between 1921 - 1923 by Jin Yun-E, commander of General Wu Pei-Fu’s 14th division. Located at the junction of Yangshang District and Mission District, Gu’s Mansion sits at an altitude of 788 metres, directly northward of Baoxiao Peak. It is considered as the most distinctive and prominent architecture on Ji-Gong mountain. Gu’s Mansion is a 4-story structure containing traist from both the West and the East. The square structure fully embraces eastern aesthetics of “doom-like heaven and square-like earth.” The lower 3 floors are surrounded by granite hallways. The 4th floor is reinforced as a concrete structure upon the lower 3 floors. The two bell-shaped pavillions tops the building, bringing a resplendent and dazzling energy from the sun to the building.

Song Mei-ling was youngest of the Soong sisters. Married to Chiang Kai-Shek, Song Mei-ling was a crucial political figure in modern Chinese history.

Originally the site of the British Wah Chang Bank, this historic villa stands in the central Nangang district. Built in 1918 by the British bank, the single-story structure spans 12 rooms and covers nearly 400 square meters. Its perimeter corridors and bright interior, featuring stained-glass windows covering over all area one meter above ground, earned it the nickname "Glass House." From 1937 to 1938, Chiang Kai-shek and Soong Mei-ling frequented the venue during their stays on Ji-Gong Mountain, hosting diplomatic gatherings with foreign dignitaries to bolster political influence—thus cementing its name as the "Meiling Ballroom." Notably, Soong Mei-ling arranged pivotal meetings here between Chiang Kai-shek and U.S. generals Claire Lee Chennault and Joseph Stilwell. The Chinese phrase "partying while the frontlines burned," a sarcastic folk saying about wartime extravagance, traces its origins to these events.

In 2009, the ballroom reopened as a cultural landmark with the exhibition "Revealing the Real Soong Mei-ling," showcasing rare photographs and biographical accounts of the former First Lady collected nationwide. Simultaneously, the Ji-Gong Mountain Historical Archives display artifacts and documents chronicling the mountain’s heritage. Through curated visuals and texts, the site intertwines Soong’s controversial legacy with the broader narrative of Ji-Gong Mountain’s role in modern Chinese history.

Originally established as a colonial-era retreat club for foreign merchants (colloquially called "Pineapple Hall" due to its spiked roof decor), this garden centers around a lotus pond transformed into a musical fountain with European flair. Surrounding the pond are cherry trees gifted in 1982 by a Japanese delegation from Shizuoka, which erupt in cascades of pink blossoms each April. The garden becomes a twilight paradise in summer evenings, where visitors stroll beneath illuminated sakura to orchestral water displays.

Adjacent stands the Crown House (now a VIP guesthouse), its Byzantine-inspired architecture fusing ancient Western Asian stone arches, Romanesque grandeur, and classical Greek columns. The crowning glory is its half-dome roof clad in copper patina, resembling a monarch’s coronet. Danish missionaries constructed this architectural marvel in the 1920s, using locally quarried granite that still bears chisel marks from Henan stonemasons.

Constructed in autumn 1937 by the Nationalist Military Commission for Chiang Kai-shek’s wartime summer residence on Jigong Mountain, this reinforced concrete bunker spans 148 square meters across two levels. The upper tier features a corridor, skylights, and dual entrances, while the lower level houses a conference room, study, and private bathroom. Stretching 63.3 meters, the shelter includes a clandestine tunnel leading southeast to the basement of the former HSBC building. Reflecting Chiang’s notorious caution, the structure boasts multiple escape routes – including hidden exits disguised as drainage systems – to evade potential threats.

A marvel of pre-WWII engineering, the shelter’s 40cm-thick walls could withstand direct artillery hits. Historical records note its ventilation system drew fresh air from a nearby pine grove, masking human presence from detection. During the 1938 Yellow River Flood, Chiang reportedly used the tunnel network to coordinate relief efforts while foreign diplomats sheltered in the HSBC wing. Today, rusted switchboards and original Italian-made light fixtures hint at its dual role as a military command center and political sanctuary.

Though modest in size, this alpine lake pulses with rippling vitality—its waters mirroring Ji-Gong Mountain’s moods like liquid mercury. At dawn, mist weaves through terraced dams and wooden boardwalks, transforming the shores into an ink-wash painting; come dusk, fireflies dance above the surface as if the Milky Way itself cascaded earthward.

The lakeside’s "Star Lake Retreat" and Hankou Club Hotel blend 1930s colonial architecture with modern comforts, their verandas offering private balconies that hover centimeters above the water. Here, guests can sip Xinyang Maojian tea while herons stalk prey through reeds, or rent bamboo rafts to trace the shoreline’s hidden coves—each bend revealing abandoned stone gazebos where Qing-era poets once held moonlit wine contests.

A hydrological marvel, the lake’s water level remains constant year-round due to subterranean springs documented in Ming dynasty hydrology maps. Recent restoration projects reintroduced native water chestnuts, whose white blossoms now form floating constellations every August—a living tribute to the lake’s celestial namesake.

Nanjie Residential Street has evolved through dynastic upheavals and modern reinventions into Ji-Gong Mountain’s culinary soul. Today, its timber-framed buildings blend Bavarian eaves with Xinyang’s signature tea-drying lofts, housing restaurants that serve as edible archives of Henan’s highland culture.

Here, the air hums with sizzling stuffed lotus root (a Song Dynasty delicacy revived by local chefs) and the earthy aroma of braised bamboo rat stew—a controversial Qing-era survival dish now rebranded as “mountain wagyu.” Vegetarians revel in jeweled tofu, dyed violet with wild hydrangea petals, while adventurous palates sample fermented bee pupae harvested from cliffside hives. Every dish whispers of the forest: morels foraged at dawn, honey steeped with medicinal herbs, and the legendary “Five-Peak Tea” brewed from leaves grown in the rooster-shaped shadow of Baoxiao Peak.

Stroll past boutiques selling hand-carved kiwi vine walking sticks (a nod to Tang poet Bai Juyi’s hiking verses) and wild pearl flower preserves jarred in hexagonal bottles. At twilight, join locals sipping spring water from the sacred Pudu Fountain—legend claims its flow quickens whenever a rooster crows atop the peak. As fireflies ignite the pines, the street becomes a living museum where every bite, scent, and cobblestone tells of Ji-Gong Mountain’s metamorphosis from colonial retreat to China’s most flavorful summit.