I've always wanted to visit Wuzhen, and I've been thinking about it for a long time. Since I decided to travel alone, the date was pretty flexible. Or maybe one day on a whim, when I want to go, I'll just go. So I found out the departure time, not staying overnight, half a day would be enough. Although I knew that there wouldn't be many people taking this route, I never expected the entire vehicle, even the whole journey, to be just me. You could say, this kind of "private car" experience was the first time I enjoyed it. The driver drove very fast, but unfortunately, the car was a bit dirty, with dust flying around. Is this what a journey should be like, dusty and hurried? The glaring sunlight shone directly on my lazy face, I squinted my eyes, plugged in the earphones, and before I knew it, I fell asleep for a little while. After waking up, I stretched, looked out the window. A corner of the city, desolate small towns and villages, nothing much to see, yellow dust, discarded plastic bags, everywhere the same scenery. The driver said: "If you want to see beautiful and clean landscapes, you can only go to scenic spots, parks, tourist destinations, because those places are protected!" A small roadside restaurant caught my eye, seemingly named "Yangtze River Fishing Village". Although its storefront is similar to other roadside shops, the two lines of text on the side were quite eye-catching. As the car sped by, I vaguely saw one line saying: "Daddy who eats fish is the healthiest!" After getting off the car, the old station was dilapidated, full of potholes, unbearable to look at. However, the parking lot at the entrance was quite grand, could it be for welcoming tour groups? This strong contrast was hard to believe, worth taking pictures as a memento. Then I bought a ticket and entered from the main gate, it was a long river. Perhaps due to the long passage of time, it appeared slightly green. Behind the river stood dilapidated houses, their roofs pointed. Besides tile roofs, there were also some long wooden strip roofs. The windows opened outward, and there were small windows hung with strings or supported upward with wooden sticks. The house structure was roughly the same as Lijiang. Without any hierarchy, one-story houses, two-story houses, square houses, flat long-shaped houses, all kinds of shapes, no rules whatsoever. What surprised me was that there were really people living inside.
I walked straight along the outer edge of the river, and saw two wide bridges. I heard that these two bridges had profound meanings, the ancestor of ten thousand demons, the left side representing "promotion", and the right side representing "wealth". After crossing the bridge, I came to the residents' dwelling place. A dilapidated house, where an eighty-year-old grandmother lived. She had the door open, sitting on a very short wooden chair sewing clothes. Beside her was a broken red plastic stool, with scissors, cloth strips, and needles scattered messily on it. Behind her was a blue floral curtain and indistinguishable piles of objects. I wanted to go in and sit for a while, but then thought why bother her, after all, she lives here, there's no need for too many intruders. Perhaps to the elderly, I am just a passerby, a slight smile is enough. The wine shop was cold and quiet, with only two shop assistants sitting quietly. The sweet fermented rice wine looked good, sweet and fragrant. The indigo printed cloth in the dyeing workshop was hanging high on the rack to dry, the wind blowing, lightly swaying, under the sun looking like dreamy veils, an old dream of Jiangnan. Following the crowd, I entered the "Hundred Beds Museum". The bone-inlaid carved bed impressed me the most, it was a modern bed, with two small cabinets on the left side. Although the style was ordinary and simple, it exuded an elegant aroma. (Source of this article: Novel Rankings) Related theme articles: Old Dreams of Wuzhen (Part 1)