From Zhichun Pavilion, the silhouette of the Buddhist Incense Pavilion against the deep blue sky resembles a light ink painting. Lanterns along the long corridor light up, casting long, trembling red shadows across Kunming Lake. The bustle of the day fades, leaving only the gentle lapping of water against the stone shore, time and again, like the steady breathing of this ancient garden.
The arches of the Seventeen-Arch Bridge, outlined by the lights, are rimmed with a gentle golden hue, blending with their reflections in the water to form full moons. Occasionally, a late-returning cruise ship passes by, shattering the pool of golden light, which lingers for a long time, refusing to dissipate. The wind carries the lingering fresh air of the lotus pond. Sitting on the stone railing by the water, gazing at the distant mountains and the nearby pavilion, listening to the whisper of the wind and the murmur of the water, I suddenly feel what day it is, and that I have become part of this tranquil night scene.