From the moment craftsman Zhao Yushan laid eyes on the towering Sakyamuni Pagoda when he was a boy, he knew it was special.

The 67-meter structure is almost 1,000 years old, made entirely of wood and not a single nail was used in its construction.

Built in Yingxian county in North China's Shanxi province in 1056 during the Liao Dynasty (916-1125), the tower is thought by locals to have been the work of legendary craftsman Lu Ban, though it has never been officially confirmed.

Zhao, 63, recalls how the tower has shaped his life for around 50 years.

"I was deeply fascinated by it. It was like being haunted. I couldn't shake it off — it consumed my thoughts and feelings," he said.

So much did his passion grow for the wonder that is the Sakyamuni Pagoda, also known as the Yingxian Wooden Pagoda, that for much of his life he has dedicated himself to creating replicas of the tower of various sizes using only the traditional construction methods that would have been used a 1,000 years ago.

Born in Sanmencheng village, not far from the pagoda, to a family of carpenters that stretches back five generations, Zhao's passion for woodworking and architectural marvels was ingrained from a young age.

Shortly after having seen the tower, Zhao set out on a project to build a replica of it — an endeavor that was discouraged by his father, thinking that there were better uses for his time.

However, the boy carried on, and despite having no formal training in engineering and architecture, started creating wooden models of the Sakyamuni Pagoda, with every iteration improving with each attempt.

"I pondered the structure day and night, eventually crafting rough mortises and tenons resembling those of the pagoda," Zhao said.

In a sad turn of events, his father, in a bid to shield his son from what he described as his "haunting dream", burned all of Zhao's creations.

Zhao was able to save one piece from destruction — a poignant reminder of his unwavering determination.

Trying his best to be a dutiful son, he set aside his aspirations to emulate the wooden pagoda and embraced the life of a typical villager, tending to the fields and apprenticing as a craftsman.

However, the embers of his dream still smoldered within, awaiting the right moment to reignite.

Tragedy struck in 1978 with the passing of his father. It was then that Zhao, amid his grief, resurrected his long-held ambition to construct the pagoda. Yet the path ahead remained fraught with challenges.

"At that time, the greatest hurdle was the absence of even a basic guide to the wooden pagoda, let alone design blueprints or structural diagrams," Zhao said.

Determined to unravel the mysteries of the tower, he visited it to study it deeply and immerse himself in its grandeur.

However, his subsequent attempts faltered, drained by the demands of time and finances.

Compelled to prioritize providing for his family, Zhao once again deferred his dream, laboring to sustain his loved ones. The pagoda, a beacon of his aspirations, stood as a distant goal, overshadowed by the exigencies of daily life.

When financial constraints threatened to dim his dream, Zhao adopted a cyclical rhythm — working diligently for years, saving every penny, then immersing himself in the study of the wooden pagoda.

His carpentry prowess served as a reliable anchor, ensuring a steady income to fuel his aspirations.

Years of sweat and setbacks culminated in a pivotal moment in 2015. An expert gave him a precious gift — a structural blueprint of the pagoda, infusing him with renewed vigor and clarity.

With newfound confidence, Zhao embarked on a transformative journey, birthing a small wooden pagoda that stood as a testament to his tenacity and skill.

"Inspiration struck me all of a sudden," Zhao said, reflecting on the pivotal moment that propelled him forward.

Buoyed by his initial success, he took a bold leap, establishing a workshop dedicated to realizing his grand vision — a larger wooden pagoda, meticulously crafted at a one-eighth scale of the original masterpiece, standing at roughly 8 meters tall.

Today, Zhao is still working in his workshop, finishing the second floor of the replica of Sakyamuni and starting work on the third floor. He has six more stories to go.

"I will dedicate my life to this endeavor. It is my dream — a dream I cannot relinquish," Zhao said.