Heyin Pomegranates: A 2,100-Year-Old Sweet Saga from Xingyang

Imagine peeling off the deep purple-red skin of a fruit. Your fingertips are immediately stained with a layer of honey-colored juice. The moment you bite into the first seed, sweet juice bursts in your mouth like a sudden explosion of fireworks. This is no ordinary pomegranate. It's the Heyin pomegranate from the Mangling area of Xingyang. Over 2,100 years ago, its seeds followed Zhang Qian's camel caravan across the desert and took root along the banks of the Yellow River, burying a sweet secret. Today, each agate-like seed holds sunlight boiled by time, as well as a legend that has never been absent from imperial tribute lists.

In 138 BC, when Zhang Qian returned from the Western Regions, among the items in his pack were not only grapes and alfalfa but also a packet of seeds from the "Anshiliuguo" (present-day northern Afghanistan). When the camel caravan reached the Mangling area of Xingyang, the sandy loam soil formed by the Yellow River's alluvial deposits caught his attention. This land, repeatedly nourished by the Yellow River, was like a giant sponge filled with sunlight and minerals. Amazingly, the same seeds grew into fruits sweeter than those from the original region, with seeds as large as amber. Since then, the name "Heyin pomegranate" began to spread quietly across the Central Plains.

Heyin pomegranates always held the top spot on the Tang Dynasty imperial tribute lists. Legend has it that while Yang Guifei needed swift horses to deliver lychees, Emperor Xuanzong was willing to suspend morning court sessions for Heyin pomegranates. When palace maids presented white porcelain plates filled with pomegranate seeds, the purple-red seeds sparkled like scattered gems in the sunlight. When bitten, sweet juice would trickle down the corners of the mouth, filling the air with a honey-like fragrance. Wu Daozi, a court painter, even secretly included Heyin pomegranates in the fruit baskets of celestial boys in his painting The Scroll of the King of Heaven Sending His Son, showing the charm of this "Oriental ruby".

Wang Zhen, an agricultural scientist of the Yuan Dynasty, wrote in his Nong Shu (collected in the library of China Agricultural University) in 1313: "Among pomegranates, those from Heyin in the Central Plains are the best", which is equivalent to awarding ancient "Michelin three-star" rating to Heyin pomegranates. Li Shizhen, in his Compendium of Materia Medica, discovered an amazing detail: each segment of top-grade Heyin pomegranates has exactly 38 seeds, as if measured with a ruler. Heyin County Annals recorded a more tempting taste description: "The pulp is extremely soft, with large and sparse seeds that are exceptionally sweet", meaning its cores are as soft as mud, and the seeds are so plump that they seem ready to burst through the skin.

In Mangling, pomegranates are never alone. The Xingyang persimmon trees that cover the mountains and plains are their millennium-long companions. A local folk song goes, "Heyin pomegranates, Dangshan pears, Xingyang persimmons are as sweet as honey", describing how these persimmons have golden, translucent flesh. After the Frost's Descent, a bite feels like sipping honey. The most amazing process is making them into dried persimmons. Peeled persimmons are hung under the eaves and gradually covered with a layer of snow-white sugar frost, like a coat woven from moonlight. In the past, scholars on their way to imperial examinations would always put two dried persimmons in their bags. When hungry, a bite would fill their mouths with the sweetness of home.

From the seeds brought back by Zhang Qian to today's online best-sellers, Heyin pomegranates have spent 2,100 years writing a love letter to the world. When you peel off their purple-red skins and see the dense seeds, you're actually opening a time capsule. Inside are the camel bells of the Han Dynasty, the court music of the Tang Dynasty, the roars of the Yellow River, and the countless breaths of the Mangling land. Next time you eat a pomegranate, remember to raise a seed towards Xingyang. What you taste isn't just sweetness—it's a Chinese story ripened by time, reaching your taste buds from the branches of Mangling.