Locks hang on chains at Jinsuoguan, expressing goodwill messages to friends and families.

The Huashan Mountains' majestic slopes are the setting for not only martial arts novels but also ideal vacations.

The Huashan Mountains are a peak attraction that packs a punch for martial arts novel buffs - myself included.

These summits are where swordsmen test their mettle - and their metal - in such kung fu fictions as Hong Kong author Louis Cha Leung-yung's works.

My two-day trip starts with Xiyue Temple, one of the country's oldest Taoist sites.

Every emperor since the Western Han Dynasty (206 BC-AD 24) has traveled to this holy complex to offer sacrifices to the God of Huashan to pray for national peace and prosperity.

The 14.33-hectare compound is an example of ancient Chinese architecture's perfect symmetry.

Its setting is made idyllic yet imposing by its long galleries, faded inscriptions by emperors and nobles, steles, archways and centuries-old trees.

It's strange to see a massive traditional bed next to a large sculpture of the God of Huashan.

However, the guide tells me the emperor and empress would spend their nights in this room during visits. Of course, the bed displayed is a replica.

Standing atop Longevity Pavilion - the compound's highest point - I can relish a clear view of the mountains through the mist. The tableau is just like a traditional ink painting.

Huashan, one of China's five sacred mountain ranges, is located in Shaanxi province's Huayin city, 100 km east of the provincial capital Xi'an. It lures tourists with its steep slopes and ancient Taoist temples.

Huashan is one of the few scenic areas open 24 hours a day.

Scaling the steep slopes of Huashan is not easy.

Some young people climb the mountains for the whole night to catch the sunrise and conquer all the five peaks within a day. This is also the most economical way to enjoy the alpine range - mountaintop accommodation isn't cheap.

Like most tourists, I take the path of least resistance and shorten the ascent to the North Peak to seven minutes by cable car.

Vertigo is the price I pay for looking down while whooshing over the deep valley.

Slogging up the slope on foot is no easy task.

Consequently, Huashan's management committee offers trekkers free drinking water. If it rains, it passes out free rain parkas, and opens temples and public spaces as shelters.

Many visitors purchase golden locks that vendors engrave with blessings to make wishes for friends, lovers and family. They tie the locks with red ribbons printed with auspicious words and hang them from the chains of Jinsuoguan.

My travel-mate buys one "to lock her boyfriend's heart". But I can't find the one another friend and her ex hung years ago. It has disappeared, like their love, I guess.

I arrive at Eastern Peak and spend the night on the mountain in Dongfeng Hotel.

The word "hotel" might be a bit of a stretch in this case. Chatting in the tiny dorm takes me back to my university days. I try not to drink too much water because getting to the restroom requires a 40-meter slog through biting winds.

A sudden rainfall blocks out the sunrise. But I'm not that disappointed.

I lose myself in the thick alpine fog to the point I don't notice the cold.

The descent is made easier by porters, who haul my stuff down the slope for a fee. They're much stronger than I am and don't tire as easily, even when burdened by my cargo.

At night, I visit a theater at the foot of the mountains to enjoy Laoqiang Opera, one of the country's oldest musical genres. It was traditionally passed down by men only, but some practitioners are now training women apprentices.

I decide to soak my aching body at the city's Huashan Yu Hot Spring Resort. The compound houses more than a dozen kinds of hot springs, with fragrances, such as rose and coffee. The hot water melts away my exhaustion.

After scaling one of China's steepest mountains, I realize it's something I'd never try again without knowing there are hot springs waiting at the bottom.