GGuest UserThe flowers, the nest, the people of Wuliang Mountain—this whirlwind of life is a fleeting yet eternal memory. But in this world of sorrow and joy, a smile on a flower, who has ever captivated whose eyes? It's been several days since I left Wuliang Mountain. I imagine the rich, delicate blossoms of early cherry blossoms perhaps already clinging to the branches, or perhaps drifting densely in the gentle breeze. I brew a cup of Wuliang Mountain Pu'er tea, gazing at the curling mist, and letting my thoughts drift to the Beehive Inn in Wuliang Mountain Cherry Blossom Valley a few days ago. In December 2023, the first early cherry blossoms were already in full bloom, nestling in the corners of the mountain, on the sunny slopes, while the majority of the cherry blossoms remained silent, as if awaiting some sign of bloom. Without the clamor of a bustling crowd, this quietness and tranquility, a profound and expansive feeling, is what I find in the wooden cabin of the Beehive Inn. In the distance, a sea of clouds billows across the cliffs. In the middle, emerald green tea trees, towering walnut trees, and cherry blossoms stand against the backdrop of azure blue sky and white clouds. With the sun shining down on me, it feels like a paradise on earth. At night, lying in bed, through the glass skylight, I watch the white clouds drift by the branches of the cherry blossoms. If there's a full moon, its clear, watery light casts a dreamlike ethereal glow on my bed. In the stillness of the night, if you're truly sincere, you might even be lucky enough to witness Chang'e's ”Rainbow Feather Dance.” Azi, the man at the Beehive Inn, is a typical Yi man, simple and capable. He would complain three times about not picking me up on time because of traffic. He has an equally simple mother and a hardworking wife. They all cook well, and I dined with his family for all three days I was there. The bitter greens they grow themselves are refreshingly sweet, and scrambled tomatoes and eggs with a bowl of rice is enough to last me a while. The pork, raised right here on the fire, is so fragrant, tender, and sweet—no wonder, considering they're all drinking authentic mountain spring water. How could it not be sweet? And that other genius, Teacher Shen, wow, he's simply amazing! Multi-talented, a man of many faces. He's a legend. If you get the chance, you absolutely must meet and chat with him. The honeycomb-shaped houses at the Beehive Inn were designed and built by him. Of course, he has many more designs; it all depends on your connection and his willingness to discuss them. I miss the Beehive Inn in the Cherry Blossom Valley of Wuliang Mountain in Nanjian. I miss Ah Zi and Teacher Shen, and even more, I miss the bitter vegetable soup, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, ham, pork ribs and radish soup, and pork belly and kidney bean soup. I long to see your rosy, smiling faces again as we grilled around the fire. I remember Teacher Shen once said: Treat every guest like family. Teacher Shen, you've nailed it!
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