"Wonders of Mountain and Sea"—On Gouqi Island and Shengshan Island
In recent years, as a proponent of "slow living," I've visited numerous islands during my cruise travels, such as Seychelles, home to the world's smallest capital; Réunion Island, where the first debris of MH370 was discovered; and Antigua and Barbuda, two small islands forming one nation.
This time, I visited Shengshan Island, which a friend told me is "China's easternmost island." Attractions described with superlatives, especially those related to "China," always invigorate me.
Gouqi Island and Shengshan Island, located east of the East China Sea, are China's easternmost inhabited islands. Connected by a single bridge, each island possesses its own unique charm. Shengshan Island is known for its "Eastern Cliffs," while Gouqi Island boasts the "Wonders of Mountain and Sea" stone inscription.
Shengshan Island's Eastern Cliffs stand majestically at the easternmost point of China's easternmost island. The cliffs, sharp as knives, plunge into the deep sea, where waves crash against the rocks, shattering into a myriad of sprays. Standing atop the cliff, looking eastward, one sees only the boundless expanse where the sea meets the sky. At dawn, this place is known as "the place to greet China's first rays of sunlight."
The four characters "Wonders of Mountain and Sea" are carved into a giant rock at the southern tip of Gouqi Island. The powerful calligraphy is said to be the work of Hou Jigao, a subordinate of the famous Ming Dynasty anti-Japanese general Qi Jiguang. When Hou patrolled the East China Sea with his troops and stationed on Gouqi Island, he was struck by the magnificent mountains and the vast sea and sky, and thus inscribed these characters to commemorate his experience.
Arriving at Shengshan Island, a fishing village pearl suspended on the blue waves of the East China Sea, once renowned as a "century-old fishing ground," I stood at the harbor and snapped a photo. The small picture surprisingly captured three lighthouses, instantly conjuring up images of the grand scene of the "century-old fishing ground"—thousands of sails piercing the blue-gray sea like arrows released from their bows.
Although the extreme hustle and bustle of "lights illuminating the sky at midnight" is no longer present, the dark red stains on the fishing port's stone steps, dyed by years of fish blood, the rusty yet sturdy cranes, and the smooth reefs kissed by the sea breeze, still whisper tales of the golden age when fishing nets seemed to scoop up the sun.
Passing through the old streets of Shengshan Island, it's as if the drunken sounds of fishermen's songs still drift from the taverns, where old fishermen, with their calloused fingertips, dip their fingers in wine to draw sea charts, recounting the prosperous times when "ten thousand ships gathered in Shengshan's waters."
The hospitable doctoral secretary of Gouqi Township pointed to a white building nestled among the terraced fields on a small hill by the sea, introducing it as the "originator of internet-famous homestays"—"Qianmo Inn." Its unique design and ocean views have made it a driving force behind Gouqi Island's homestay industry.
He then led me to a platform overlooking Gouqi Island's vast mussel farm and its cold chain food processing plant.
To the left of the platform is the now-popular "Sunset Cafe." Ordering a cup of coffee, chewing on seaweed strips and fried fish bones, I gazed out at the entire marine ranch.
Amidst this dynamic yet serene, rugged yet gentle interplay of mountain and sea, I captured the magnificent scenery of the setting sun and took a photo of the two staff members at the "Sunset Cafe." They beamed brightly in the picture. Unfortunately, I didn't notice the words "Gouqi Island Live Broadcast Center" behind them at the time.
To this day, I still haven't figured out whether they were enthusiastically live-streaming the "harvest of the vast mussel farm" or the "spectacular sunset." The rolling clouds and bobbing fishing boats in the lens intertwined into a golden-red tapestry, making it difficult to distinguish between the gifts of the sea and the blessings of the sky. It was precisely amidst this blend of reality and illusion that I developed an enduring fondness for China's islands.