In Fengshan District of southern Kaohsiung City, history runs deep. Since the Qing Dynasty, Fengshan has served as an administrative and military hub for southern Taiwan. Its history spans the Ming-Zheng establishment of local governance, successive shifts of county seats under Qing rule, Japanese colonial modernization, and postwar development as the seat of Kaohsiung County. Through each chapter, it has remained a vital center of culture and learning.

Tucked into its streets and alleyways are remnants of Qing-era city walls, the remembered clang of the old ironworking quarter, and the layered histories of the military dependents' villages that once defined postwar Taiwan. Together, these have shaped the deep cultural character that distinguishes Kaohsiung today.

Fongyi Academy houses a Wenchang Shrine, which once served as an important place of study and gathering for local scholars during Qing rule. (Photo: Don Chen)

Fongyi Academy: Where Qing Dynasty Scholar Culture Lives Again

At the heart of Fengshan stands a quietly remarkable institution—Fongyi Academy. Built in 1814 as an officially established Qing Dynasty center of learning, it was designed to educate and cultivate local talent. The compound encompassed a lecture hall, a Wenchang Shrine, a community granary, and student quarters, making it the preeminent gathering place for the district's scholars and aspirants. Today, it is far more than a historical remnant; it has become a model for cultural regeneration in Taiwan.

Fongyi Academy is not merely a local heritage site—it is, as some have called it, a compact historic gem with world-class potential. Access is remarkably convenient from virtually anywhere: international visitors can fly into Kaohsiung International Airport, board the MRT Red Line, transfer to the Orange Line, and walk to the Academy from Fengshan Station. Domestic travelers arriving at Kaohsiung Station via Taiwan Railways, or at Zuoying Station via the High Speed Rail, can reach it just as easily. This accessibility positions Fongyi Academy as a cultural node with genuine international reach—a fitting showcase for Taiwan's soft power.

The Academy's path to recognition was anything but straightforward. During the Japanese colonial period, the complex was repurposed as a military hospital and official residence. After the war, ownership of the land passed to the Ministry of Education's school property fund, which leased it to 35 households; successive additions and alterations all but obscured the original structures beneath layers of later construction. Against this backdrop, the government's 1985 decision to designate Fongyi Academy a Third-Grade Historic Site was an act of considerable foresight and conviction. With the historic fabric barely visible, cultural authorities chose to trust in its historical value—and in Taiwan's commitment to preserving the roots of its scholarly heritage.

The Road to Restoration: From Ruins to Living Cultural Space

The turning point came in 2005, when the Kaohsiung City Bureau of Cultural Affairs finally secured management of the Academy and launched what would prove an extraordinarily demanding restoration. The process involved negotiating the relocation of existing residents, dismantling later additions, and rebuilding damaged structures and grounds—not a rapid renovation, but a long and painstaking cultural revival. Urban planning procedures, legal processes, architectural archaeology, and community negotiations all presented their own challenges, each one a testament to Taiwan's tenacious commitment to its heritage.

What makes the restoration particularly moving is the breadth of expertise it drew together. Heritage conservators, architects, historians, master carpenters, and decorative painters collaborated to recover every dimension of the Academy's original character and spirit. Working under the principle of clear distinction between old and new, the team preserved surviving timber elements, roof tiles, and painted decorations while integrating new construction in a contemporary architectural vocabulary. Equally thoughtful was the incorporation of modern infrastructure—fire suppression systems, barrier-free access, and performance spaces—ensuring that the historic site would not merely be preserved, but actively used and capable of inspiring.

Stepping into Fongyi Academy today feels like passing beneath the vault of another era. Red brick and grey roof tiles frame the lecture hall; a faint fragrance and weathered stone steles mark the Wenchang Shrine; children wander the courtyard at leisure; and along the walls, Qing Dynasty figures and the imperial examination system are rendered with gentle humor. Every detail affirms that this is not a cold, static monument—it is a living cultural experience.

On a recent visit, the writer encountered a family from Hong Kong: children playing in the corridors alongside cute cartoon-style scholar figurines while their parents lingered over illustrated panels on the walls. The whole family moved through the space at an unhurried pace, absorbing Taiwan's cultural warmth at their own rhythm. It is hard not to reflect that spaces like this—where history, education, and leisure intertwine so naturally—may be Taiwan's most distinctive form of soft power.

A tea house occupies one corner of the Academy grounds, operated by Hanlin Tea Room, with a special addition: iceSpring (春一枝) ice pops from Taitung. (Photo: Don Chen)

Where Old Meets New: Cultural Innovation Over Tea

Just as the writer was preparing to leave, a tea house by the corner of the Academy came into view—operated by Hanlin Tea Room, one of Taiwan's pioneering hand-shaken tea brands. The writer ordered a honey-flavored tea, and the staff member asked with practiced attentiveness: less sugar or regular? Ice or no ice? The exchange was a small but telling moment—a reflection of the care and customer awareness that defines Taiwan's service culture, and a quietly eloquent expression of contemporary Taiwanese life.

The menu holds its own surprises. Alongside Hanlin's signature bubble tea series—the brand is among those credited with helping originate the drink—the tea house offers a selection of refined Taiwanese lu wei, braised delicacies that bring traditional flavors into a modern tea-pairing context. This combination of tea and food speaks to an emerging tea-and-cuisine culture that feels distinctly Taiwanese. Equally appealing are the ice pops from iceSpring (春一枝) in Taitung, crafted from locally grown fresh fruit—a small but vivid reminder of Taiwan's rich agricultural bounty and its knack for inventive, ingredient-driven eating.

From the outside, the tea house presents itself with the restraint appropriate to its historic surroundings. Step inside, and the picture shifts: professional, contemporary equipment operates quietly within the old walls, embodying in miniature the larger story of Fongyi Academy itself—tradition and innovation in genuine dialogue.

For companies talking about ESG, brand values, and social impact, Fongyi Academy offers a lesson worth considering. Culture is not a cost—it is an asset. Soft power is not decoration—it is the foundation of lasting competitiveness. Businesses willing to invest in the preservation and revitalization of local culture become more than economic actors; they become co-creators of value.

Taiwan's soft power lies not in how much we say, but in how much we choose to preserve, to restore, and to share with the world. Fongyi Academy is one answer to that question.