Lingering Water: Reflections on a Hongcun Trip
The moment I stepped into Hongcun, it felt like I had stepped into an ink painting stained with water vapor. Surrounded by mountains, white-walled, black-tiled houses stood quietly by the water's edge. Nanhu Lake, like a mirror, reflected the drifting clouds and weeping willows along the shore. Despite the large crowds of visitors, they seemed captivated by the village's tranquility, and the clamor subsided somewhat.
Hongcun's beauty lies first and foremost in its omnipresent water. The village is crisscrossed by crystal-clear waterways, their sound constantly gurgling. This water is more than just a landscape; it's a lifeblood—flowing past every household, providing life, regulating the climate, and nourishing the villagers' souls. Standing on the painted bridge, watching the fish play with the cloud shadows, I felt as if the water had the magical power to cleanse my mind. The trivial worries that usually plagued my heart gradually dissipated with the current.
Hui-style architecture is another soul of Hongcun. Horse-head walls rise and fall in varying heights, and intricately carved gatehouses are everywhere. Entering Chengzhi Hall, I was struck by the exquisite craftsmanship of the wood, stone, and brick carvings. Every pattern imbued with auspicious meaning, every detail embodied the cultural aspirations of the ancient Huizhou merchants, who embraced Confucianism while pursuing business. Walking through these old houses, I could almost hear the echoes of history, sensing the yearning and striving for a better life of those who once lived here.
The alleys are deep, and the bluestone pavement has been polished to a mirror-like smoothness by time. I deliberately avoided the main tourist routes and turned into secluded lanes. Here, free from the clamor of tourists, only local elders chatted in front of their doors, women washed clothes by the water, and cats napped on the walls. This atmosphere of daily life, more than any tourist attraction, allowed me to feel the true pulse of Hongcun.
As night fell, I climbed the small hill behind the village and gazed down upon the entirety of Hongcun. The lights gradually lit up, outlining the village's contours, reflected in the water like a starry sky falling to earth. At this moment, Hongcun, stripped of the daytime bustle, has returned to its authentic tranquility. I suddenly understood that the allure of this ancient village, with over 800 years of history, lies not only in its ingenious water system and exquisite Hui-style architecture, but also in the wisdom of harmonious coexistence between man and nature, an aesthetic of life that has become increasingly refined through the passage of time.
When I left Hongcun, I took with me not only the photos in my camera, but also a sense of peace and tranquility. In an age obsessed with efficiency and speed, Hongcun feels like a time capsule, preserving another possibility—slowing down, listening to the sound of flowing water, feeling the passing of the seasons, discovering richness in simplicity, and witnessing eternity in the ordinary.
Hongcun, with its lingering waterscape, will eventually linger like that stream in my memory, a constant reminder that life has more than one form, and that beauty can be found in the simplest of places.