Days in the Fireworks of the Old Street
Fubao Ancient Town: A Secret Place Featured by National Geographic, with Blue Tiles and White Walls Soaked in Tea Mist
Driving from Hejiang County into the mountains, the asphalt road gradually winds into bamboo forests, finally revealing its true form in front of a cluster of blue-tiled roofs—not a deliberately crafted ancient town tourist spot, but the authentic Fubao Ancient Town. The stilted buildings spread along the mountain’s terrain, the blue tiles layered like fish scales, and the creek running through the town "ding-dong" sounds, soaking the whole town in moisture. Sitting at the teahouse by the bridge, Grandpa Zhang holds a lidded bowl of tea and reads the newspaper. Seeing us with cameras, he smiles: "National Geographic has filmed here before, so you’ve found the right place. There are no flashy shops here."
Sure enough, stepping on the bluestone slabs into the town, the stones underfoot are polished smooth. Occasionally, residents carrying loads pass by, their bamboo baskets creaking. "This town is built along the mountain," Grandpa Zhang puts down his newspaper and leads us around a corner, "Look at this street, rising and falling like a dragon coiled on the mountain." At a corner of a certain street, a stilted building leans out diagonally, its wooden pillars planted directly in the creek water. "This building is called 'Half-Side Street'," Grandpa says, "It used to sell fish, now a family lives there, falling asleep to the sound of water at night." On the stone steps by the creek, an old lady is pounding clothes, the wooden mallet striking the bluestone, the sound echoing far down the alley.
🏘 The Town’s Backbone: The Embrace of Wood and Stone
The "Suspension" of the Stilted Buildings. The most eye-catching are the stilted buildings along the river, with wooden pillars half on land and half in the water, the gaps in the floorboards revealing the creek below. "This wood is nanmu," Grandpa Zhang taps a pillar, "Soaked in water for decades without rotting. Bandits used to come to rob, but even fire couldn’t burn it." Under the eaves of one house, strings of corn and chili peppers hang, red and yellow against the white walls and blue tiles, like a richly colored painting. A girl in a qipao stands on the corridor of the stilted building, her hand resting on the carved railing, the wind lifting her hair and brushing the moss on the wooden pillars.
The "Stacking" of the Stone Steps. The town’s stone steps are uneven in height, some so steep you need hands and feet to climb. "This is the 'Hundred-Step Staircase'," Grandpa counts the steps, "Back then, porters carried goods up step by step, now young people find it too tiring and prefer to take a longer route." Wild grass grows in the cracks of the steps. "In spring, little purple flowers bloom, very pretty," Grandpa says, "We don’t pull them out, just let the stones wear flowers." A photographer wearing a straw hat squats beside the steps capturing light and shadow. "The sun at 10 a.m. is best, it paints stripes of light and dark on the steps."
🍵 Days in the Tea Mist: Slow Like the Creek
The "Leisure" of the Bridgehead Teahouse. The most flavorful spot is the old teahouse by the bridge, with bamboo chairs and tables, the tabletops worn with white rings from tea cups. "A cup of tea costs two yuan, and you can sit all day," Grandpa Zhang pours us tea, "It’s all local eagle tea, clears heat, very refreshing in summer." Most tea drinkers are elderly, some playing chess, some chatting about daily life in town: "Li’s grandson got into college," "Wang’s sow had piglets." Waitress Auntie Li carries a teapot weaving through the tables, placing tea bowls down with a clatter, the tea leaves slowly unfurling in the water.
The "Fragrance" from the Steamer. At a small stall at the end of the alley, an old lady is steaming yellow rice cakes (3 yuan each) in bamboo steamers. Glutinous rice mixed with brown sugar, steamed to a glossy finish. "The yellow rice cakes need to soak the glutinous rice the day before and steam for three hours to get soft," the old lady lifts the lid, hot steam wrapped in sweet aroma hits the face. "Young people like to spread honey on them, but we elderly prefer the original flavor." On the nearby coal stove, silver ear fungus soup simmers in a clay pot, bubbling softly. "The silver ear soaked in creek water makes the soup thicker," the old lady scoops out a bowl, amber broth floating with a few goji berries.
🚧 The Truth in Development: Perseverance Under the Scaffolding
The "Repair" of Old Houses. Several old houses in the town center are scaffolded, workers carefully replacing tiles. "Not tearing down and rebuilding, just patching leaks," Grandpa Zhang says, "The wooden beams are still old, broken tiles are replaced with locally fired blue tiles, trying to keep the original look." A carpenter is making new wooden window frames for a house, "Carving patterns like the old ones," he says holding a chisel, "No random changes, this is the style passed down from ancestors." The safety nets on the scaffolding form a strange harmony with the blue tiles, like giving the old houses a new hat.
The "Guard" of the Residents. Although under development, the townspeople remain the same, drinking tea when they should, washing clothes when they should. "Some business owners want to open guesthouses," Grandpa Zhang says, "But we agreed, no turning it into a bar street, we must keep the town’s lively atmosphere." Auntie Li’s teahouse has a handwritten price list on the wall, "Two-yuan tea won’t go up just because there are more tourists," she says, "Everyone who comes is a guest, we won’t take advantage." Children run through the alleys after school with backpacks, their laughter startling the swallows under the eaves.
📍 Town Visit Guide: Wear Comfortable Shoes
· Transportation: 1.5 hours by car from Luzhou (navigate to "Fubao Ancient Town," parking available in town, 10 yuan per day); 40 minutes by shuttle bus from Hejiang County (8 yuan per person), last bus at 5 p.m., don’t miss it or you won’t get back.
· Admission: Free! Feel free to explore the stilted buildings, teahouses, and stone steps. Stay away from areas where workers are repairing houses for safety.
· Best Time: Morning is best to see residents fetching water by the creek, teahouses lighting fires, mist swirling around blue tiles like a living ink painting; bring an umbrella on rainy days to watch raindrops drip from eaves into lines, splashing on the bluestone slabs.
· Notes: Stone steps are slippery, wear flat shoes; don’t throw trash in the creek, it’s the residents’ water source; when taking photos, don’t disturb people eating or drinking tea, smile and greet them, most will say "Feel free to take pictures."
When leaving, Auntie Li stuffed two yellow rice cakes into my bag: "For when you get hungry on the road." As the car left the town, the silhouette of the stilted buildings gradually disappeared behind the bamboo forest in the rearview mirror, only the sound of the creek faintly audible. Suddenly I understood the charm of Fubao—it hasn’t rushed to become an internet sensation, finding balance between development and preservation. The blue tiles under scaffolding, the leisurely chats in tea mist, are the truest days. Next time, I want to sit at the bridgehead teahouse, order a cup of eagle tea, watch the clouds drift over the rooftops all day, and live time like the creek, slowly flowing.
Bonus: On market days every month (on the 3rd, 6th, and 9th days of the lunar calendar), the town fills with mountain goods—dried bamboo shoots, cured meats, bamboo baskets—very lively, and you can find many great things.