The Beijing Bookstores You Literally Can't Walk Past
A single Zhihu question has an entire city trading its most unforgettable bookstore memories.

The battered shelves of Wan Sheng, the floor-to-ceiling windows at Page One framing the western hills, the lamp that never sleeps at the 24-hour Sanlian Taofen — open this Zhihu thread and the comments instantly become a treasure map of Beijing's bookstores. One person still mourns "Feng Rusong," a shop that closed years ago; another just stumbled on a nameless place tucked deep in a hutong.
Some flew to Beijing for a single out-of-print title. Others only meant to walk past, then froze — pinned to the sidewalk by an orange tabby perched regally on a stack of novels. The shopkeepers never said a word, but every wall greeted them anyway.
There's no right answer here, and yet the thread has an entire city itching to head out — just to check whether the little corner that once stopped them cold is still lit up tonight.