Unique beauty
Taking in the spring vistas of Wuyuan in Jiangxi Province
As March turns to April, spring is usually in full swing in most parts of China, especially in towns and villages south of the Yangtze River.
With their charming scenery and delicious cuisine, these places have become some of the most-loved places of springouters.
Praised for its beauty by literati since ancient times, Wuyuan county in East China’s Jiangxi Province stands out among all these places; which is why I decided to head there on a short trip with my friends over the Qingming Festival holiday at the beginning of April.
Along the river
A large expanse of yellow flowers next to rows of blacktiled white houses is one of the most famous views in the county.
Known as “Crescent Bay,” or Yueliang Wan in Chinese, it naturally became our first destination.
To call it a “bay” is somewhat misleading because it is actually a piece of crescent-shaped land that stretches to the middle of the upper reaches of the Yangtze River.
For all that, it’s a beautiful name which represents the tranquility of the place by associating it with the moon.
My friend and I immediately decided to rent a raft to get a better look at the river. Rafting is probably one of the best ways to tour the bay as it allows visitors to enjoy a multi-sensory experience.
The green water bore our tiny raft steadily forward, as our rowing kicked up small waves now and then.
Being surrounded on all sides by nothing but water evoked a sense of solitude.
As we approached the islet, a few boats carrying visitors appeared around the bend, bringing me back to reality.
A boy marveled at our bravery to tour around on the little raft with jealousy and complained to his parents, asking why they hadn’t
rented one.
I totally understood why he said that. After a while, the wind started to pick up, so we decided to head back to shore.
Rainy days
It drizzled all day long as we walked around Likeng village the next day.
Late March and early April often witnesses successive rainy days in the area, which can be pretty inconvenient for travelers.
However, it is a “necessary evil” if you want a better experience.
Walking down the flagstone path alongside a small gurgling stream as the rain came down around us, I suddenly realized just how closely local life was connected to water.
Everything was washed clean and nourished: It was truly a heavenly gift!
Reaching the end of the flagstone path, we found another path up to the top of the hill.
The path was well paved, winding upward through lush bamboo groves, which gradually withdrew out sight as we climbed higher.
On the top of the hill was a large open space that offered us a wonderful panoramic view of Likeng.
The village was veiled in a greenish haze that seemed to have been breathed out by the woods.
Small patches of rapeseed flowers were also tinged with the green mist, which caused them to look tender and indistinct. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath.
Owing to the rain, the moist air was very soothing. No wonder great masters during the Song Dynasty (960-1279) liked to depict wind and rain in their landscape paintings.
As we went down the hill, the rain stopped. Villagers, mostly older in age, stood by the doors of their shops and exchanged greetings with visitors.
I asked an old woman if the tourism income they made was enough to support a family since Likeng attracts so many visitors every year.
“Not even close,” she replied with a sigh. “We don’t get much money from the entrance ticket.
“Running a small business is profitable during the high season but that doesn’t last the whole year.”
We started out early the third day to explore the “flat lake in high mountains,” a place that is not well-known among foreign visitors. The weather had cleared so the sun was bright and warm, and the slightly moist air felt very refreshing.
A vast expanse of water hemmed in by “spring mountains” looked serene and peaceful.
I walked closer to the lake shore and strolled around.
Unlike a grove of trees in a park or private garden, the unattended trees around the lake had a rustic charm.
Tangles of branches were thick and dark, the little yellow flowers here and there.
As we roamed around taking in the scenic beauty, my rumbling stomach reminded us it was time for lunch.
Since our food apps didn’t cover the mountainous area, we dropped by a restaurant that a local had recommended to us.
Actually, I hesitate to call it a restaurant since it located in someone’s home and the food was prepared in the family kitchen. There wasn’t even a menu.
However, all the dishes were superbly delicious! The loach fish soup was milky white and brought out the flavor of the fish without being fishy.
The streamed pork knuckle had a perfect proportion of lean and fat meat, perhaps because the pig had been given plenty of exercise when it was alive.
The vegetables, stir-fried or simply made with soybean sauce and garlic, were also tasty.
And Qingtuan, the Qingming Festival cake, a specialty of the season, crowned them all with its green glutinous pastry and fresh bamboo shoots, tender leaves of some vegetable and minced pork wrapped inside.
My mouth waters just thinking about the dish. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you what the name of the restaurant is because it doesn’t have one.
The only clue I can give is that it is by the government offices in a village called Zhongcun.
Connected to the past
After lunch, we drove further north and stopped by a village named Stone Buddha located in the depths of the mountain.
I’d seen many spots of cultural value during my time in Wuyuan, like the homes of famous scholars, grand ancestral temples and ancient bridges.
This cultural heritage, I assumed, reflected the life of the gentry class of traditional society, while the farmlands on the terraces, the little ancestral temples, the black-and-white houses and the babbling brook bespoke the life of earth-bound farmers.
The villages were like museums exhibiting the lifestyle of by-gone days.
For instance, on a baby’s 100th day, his or her father will to offer cakes to their ancestors.
Those who are looking to move out of the village will first hold a ceremonial rite inviting their ancestors’ prayer tablet to come with them, so that the family could continue to pay their respects to them everyday.
As I watched children running back and forth across a flagstone bridge, it occurred to me that modern life in these villages had broken completely from tradition.
Wuyuan uses two slogans in its tourism promotions: “Hometown Dream” and “the Most Beautiful Villages in China.”
The county truly lived up to these words. I think the people of Wuyuan are quite fortunate to have such well-preserved hometowns during today’s trend toward modernization.
As for those who would debate the use of “most beautiful,” I would like to quote a line from the poetry of Tao Yuanming (365-427) as an answer, “There is a true meaning in it. I wanted to explain, but forgot the words.”