There is Old Shanghai and then there is much older Shanghai. That latter honor describes Zhenru, an area in the west of the city that has just celebrated its 700th birthday.

Zhenru lies in Putuo District near the border with Jiading District. Putuo is not traditionally favored by Shanghai locals as a place to visit because it seems less developed and less vibrant than other downtown districts.

In Shanghai dialect, Putuo is pronounced pudu. An old slang phrase in the city goes: 鈥淧udu, Pudu, shabby (pu) and big (du).鈥�

But the role Zhenru plays in Shanghai鈥檚 history is hardly shabby. It once had one of the oldest railway stations in the city鈥� the Shanghai West Railway Station, or Zhenru Station 鈥� and hosted the city鈥檚 largest seafood market, known as a 鈥渉oly land鈥� for local foodies.

鈥淵ou basically don鈥檛 feel that you are living in an area that old,鈥� says Chris Ma, a 35-year-old Zhenru native, who moved out of the area just three years ago. 鈥淭hen again, you don鈥檛 feel it was developing rapidly like Pudong or Jing鈥檃n either. It is just a place for everyday life, and maybe that is its real charm.鈥�

Zhenru is home to the only Buddhist temple in Shanghai that was built during the Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368).

According to records, a monk named Miaoxin moved a group of monks to today鈥檚 Putuo in 1320 and built a temple on a piece of land near the Taopu River. He named the temple Zhenru, which means 鈥渢rue and lasting鈥� in Buddhism.

The temple quickly became popular among nearby residents and set up a temple fair out front. After several expansions, the temple was nicknamed Damiao, or Big Temple, because of its magnificence.

Meanwhile, the temple fair gradually grew into a larger market, and the town around it adopted the name of the temple as its own.

Though it was destroyed several times, the temple weathered adversity and still stands today. In 1860, the temple was almost completely burned to the ground during the Taiping Rebellion from 1850 to 1864. Only the main hall survived.

Three decades later, the temple was again restored. Fortunately, the original beams, columns and brackets of the main hall were well preserved. Today, the temple has the oldest timber building in Shanghai.

Unlike most other Buddhist temples in China, the temple鈥檚 main color scheme is black and white instead of the usual bright yellow.

It is believed that the designer of the temple was deeply influenced by Hui-style buildings, which are mostly seen in part of today鈥檚 Anhui and Jiangxi provinces.

A gingko tree of more than 700 years old stands in the temple, living testament to the area鈥檚 history.

鈥淭he temple is beautiful, but it doesn鈥檛 have as many visitors as other old temples in the city,鈥� Ma says. 鈥淚ts visitors are the more elderly.鈥�

It鈥檚 strange that Zhenru was never developed into a typical 鈥渁ncient town鈥� like Qibao in Minhang District or Zhujiajiao in Qingpu District. The local government did try. A signboard saying 鈥淶henru Ancient Town鈥� was placed in an archway there, but somehow the idea never caught on.

That鈥檚 probably just as well. An authentic old construction has survived rather than being tarted up with pseudo-ancient restoration. The temple also doesn鈥檛 have popular legends behind it to draw visitors. This area remains vintage Shanghai without the frills.

That doesn鈥檛 detract from Zhenru鈥檚 charm. Some older Shanghai residents visit the temple three times a year. Once to burn joss sticks on Chinese New Year, once to enjoy local mutton dishes in the summer, and once to view the wintersweet blossoms in winter.

With a history of more than 200 years, mutton cuisine in Zhenru is the top summer treat for locals. Zhenru annuals tell us local farmers of old would 鈥済o to mutton houses every day about 4:30am and order a plate of mutton and some liquor. Then after a bowl of mutton noodle soup, a day鈥檚 farm work begins.鈥�

The old street at its peak had more than 30 mutton houses, but the number dropped to six before the establishment of People鈥檚 Republic in 1949. In 1958, the six remaining eateries merged into one, which is the current Zhenru Mutton House in front of the temple.

Mutton is usually cooked in one of two ways here. Either it is boiled in water or braised in sauce. Both are easier said than done. A seasoned mutton cook knows from the first bite which part of the goat the meat comes from.

Cooking mutton is not only about heat control, but also the 鈥渙ld mutton soup鈥� the mutton is cooked in. In the Zhenru Mutton House, only those who are 鈥渋nheritors鈥� of the old tradition can tend to the sauce. Its recipe has been zealously guarded for nearly 100 years. Even long-term employees at the restaurant don鈥檛 know the name of the 鈥渋nheritor鈥� nor the secret of the sauce.

The 鈥渋nheritor鈥� comes to the house with the sauce every evening and works until the next morning to prepare for the next day鈥檚 meals, before taking the sauce home with him to avoid any tampering.

But to Ma, the former Tongchuan Seafood Market was even more attractive than the mutton. In fact, the closure of the market in 2016 was Ma鈥檚 biggest disappointment. At more than 120,000 square meters, it was the largest of its kind in the city.

Opened in 1996, Tongchuan was not only a wholesale market but also a food street, where rows of small seafood shops existed. Customers could select their favorite seafood and ask the shop to steam or stir-fry their choice. Voil脿! A fresh seafood meal.

鈥淚 had the best crabs and shrimp there 鈥� best!鈥� Ma says, with emphasis. 鈥淚 lived not far from the market, and it was a favorite spot for dinner parties with friends. People would come all the way from Pudong to enjoy what we called a 鈥榞out meal.鈥� You know, seafood and beer don鈥檛 agree with your health very much.鈥�

The 20-year-old 鈥渟eafood holy land鈥� was closed for various reasons. Its environment was somewhat unhygienic, and the noise at night annoyed nearby residents. The vendors who once worked there scattered to other markets of the city, but so far, no market has quite gained the stature that Tongchuan Market once enjoyed.

The demolition of the market took three years. The vacated land is slated to become a new 鈥渟ub-center鈥� of the city, with more services to the vast residential complexes of Zhenru.

鈥淎lthough I have moved away, I still consider Zhenru my home,鈥� Ma says. 鈥淚 am anxious to see how it will be redeveloped.鈥�