🌇 The solidified epic, flowing feast - the double-sided poem on the Bund of Shanghai, is a spread out three-dimensional history book on the banks of the Huangpu River. 52 buildings in the West Bank are made of granite paper and bronze sculpture as ink, recording the ambitions of the financial center of the 19th century in the Far East; The skyscrapers of Lujiazui on the east coast are screened by glass curtain walls, projecting the height of China in the 21st century. The Gothic spire pierced the clouds, the baroque dome was covered with sunset, the customs bells penetrated the clouds of smoke for a hundred years, and every time the Westminster Times was a golden invitation from history to the modern day. 🌉 The Mirror of Time and Space Folding When the dusk was covered with gold yarn for the bronze lion of HSBC, the laser beam of the Oriental Pearl on the other side had pierced the night sky. The steel frames of the Waibaidu Bridge carry the industrial memory of 1907. At the intersection of the Suzhou River and Huangpu River under the bridge, sightseeing cruise ships and freight barges draw parallel lines of the times. The left bank is the reflection of "Paris of the East" and the right bank is the prism of "Shanghai of the future". Visitors hold up their mobile phones and enter the neoclassical columns and holographic advertising frames in the same lens, similar to the city's cultural metaphor: all historical riverbanks are reserved for the future pier. 🎻 Symphony poems on fireworks The Bund of Day belongs to the gaze. The tuk-tuk on Nanjing East Road shook the old Shanghai bell, the woman wearing cheongsam shook gently, and the selfie stick of the live network red rubbed shoulders in Chen Yi Square; in Huangpu Park, the elderly wrote "Haina Baichuan" ink, and the children stomped to touch the relief of the People's Hero Memorial Tower. And when 270,000 LED beads lit up the customs clock tower, the Bund instantly switched to a flowing feast: the river wind wrapped in coffee fragrance and jazz, the silhouette of the lover's wall snuggled to reflect the river, the white magnolia basket, the white petals and the lujiazui neon shady shadow stacked into a strange romance. ⛵️ To decode the ferry ticket of the city gene, you need to take a boat to the heart of the river. The cruise ship at the Jinling East Road Pier opened at night, and people on the deck looked up on both sides of the Straits: the buildings of the world on the west side were like platinum amber, solidifying the non-smoking meeting of Huizhong Hotel, and the legend of the merchants of the Sassoon Building; The "kitchen three-piece suit" on the east side writes poetry in the cloud, and the spiral spire in the center of Shanghai seems to be writing Morse code in the cloud. At this moment, I know that the height of the Bund is not in the 632-meter skyline, but in the 100-year sinking and floating, the chest is always open to the world. Why do tens of millions of people rush to this river bank? For the 1920 banker's shoes sniping in the customs bell, for the sightseeing tunnel shuttle like a time capsule of the glare, more a bowl of old crab powder cage on the cruise table, the steaming heat rises in the east, never ending. This is the magic of the Bund: let the heavy pillars of colonial history be the pedestal of the stars.