funbook-pk Chapter 125 Travel
Chapter 125 Travel
They said their nose was clear; it was a bit congested before, but now it's completely clear.
After taking a shower that evening, Su Peixue didn't dry her hair; she just draped it wet over her shoulders and crawled into bed.
Lin Ran grabbed it and forcibly dried it.
Occasionally, a boat would glide by outside the wooden window, the sound of oars cutting through the water carrying far across the calm river, each sound clear and distinct.
She curled up in the blanket, only half her face showing, listened to the sound of water outside the window, and slowly closed her eyes.
At 5:30 a.m. the next morning, the ancient city was still asleep. There was no one on the bluestone pavement, and the streetlights were still on, casting an orange glow on the wet stones. It had rained lightly during the night, and shallow puddles had accumulated in the cracks between the stones, splashing up tiny droplets when you stepped on them.
Several cats were yawning in the corner. One of them looked up at them, then lowered its head and continued sleeping, its tail slowly sweeping behind it.
Su Peixue bought some snacks to feed the baby.
A morning mist rose over the Tuo River. It wasn't a thin mist, but a thick, milky-white one, covering the entire river surface. You couldn't see anything, only hear the slow, leisurely sound of oars gliding through the mist.
The stepping stones emerged from the mist as a row of black stone pillars, resembling a string of ellipses across the river.
Lin Ran set up his tripod on the shore. The mist began to move slowly, not disperse, but flow, like a very slow river moving horizontally across the surface of the river.
When the first rays of dawn pierced through the mountain ridge, the mist changed from milky white to pale gold, as if someone had poured a spoonful of honey into it.
The stilted houses emerged from the mist layer by layer—first the eaves of the roof, then the wooden railings protruding from the second floor, and then their entire reflections on the river.
The water was as still as a mirror, reflecting the stilted houses from the riverbed all over again, even the carvings on the wooden railings were clearly visible.
Su Peixue stood on the stepping stones, walking from one end to the other. Her canvas shoes clicked softly on the stones, each step steady. In the distance, a boat gathering water plants slowly glided across the river, the people on board humming a folk song. The melody was shrouded in mist, making it difficult to hear clearly, but it drifted on and on, as if from a very, very far place. She finished walking the entire stretch of stepping stones, stood on the opposite bank, and turned back. The morning light shone down on her from behind, outlining her with a golden edge.
Su Peixue slept the whole way when she left Fenghuang. She curled up in the passenger seat, covered herself with a down jacket, her head tilted to the side, and there was a little drool at the corner of her mouth.
When she woke up, the car had already entered Furong Town. She pressed her face against the car window and looked out. The car window was fogged up by her breath, and she drew a crooked cat face on it with her finger.
Furong Town is built atop the waterfall, and it takes less than ten minutes to walk from one end of the old street to the other. Winter is the dry season, and the waterfall's flow is much less than in summer, but precisely because there are fewer tourists, the sound of the waterfall is even clearer—
It wasn't a deafening roar, but a continuous, even sound of water rising from beneath the town, drowning out the sparse footsteps on the old street. The whole street was enveloped in that sound, like background music on a loop.
Lin Ran found a spot facing the waterfall and set up the camera on the stone railing. Su Peixue walked over from the other end of the old street, carrying a bowl of rice tofu.
The rice tofu shop was still open, and she was the only customer. She sat near the door, picked up a piece of rice tofu with her chopsticks. It was off-white, with a rough surface, and trembled slightly as she held it.
She lowered her head, blew on it twice, put it in her mouth, her cheeks puffed out, chewed a couple of times, then exhaled, burning her lips red from the spiciness. As she lowered her head, stray hairs fell across her forehead, obscuring her eyes, but she ignored them and picked up a second piece. The camera steadily captured her profile: her eyes squinting from the heat, her puffed-out cheeks deflating, and the fleeting curve of her tongue as she licked the chili oil from the corner of her mouth.
She finished the last piece of soup, placed the bowl on the table, rested her chopsticks on the rim, stood up and walked towards Lin Ran. Halfway there, she turned back, picked up the bowl, and handed it to him. Lin Ran drank the rest of the soup in a few gulps, hissing in pain from the spiciness.
Heading northwest from Furong Town, passing through Jishou, the road begins to wind its way up the mountains. The mountains grow higher and higher, the valleys deeper and deeper, and mist rises from the valley floor like layers of white waves.
When the Aizhai Bridge came into view, it felt like the car was driving into the clouds. The bridge spanned between two mountain peaks, and the canyon below was bottomless. Clouds and mist surged up from the valley floor, swallowing the base of the bridge towers. The entire bridge looked like a silver thread suspended in mid-air, its two ends plunged into the mountains, with no support in the middle.
Lin Ran parked the car at the viewing platform. The wind on the bridge was strong, blowing Su Peixue's hair up and sticking to her face. She pulled her hair out of her mouth, hunched her neck, and stood by the railing, her down jacket hood billowing in the wind.
She didn't speak, just stood in the wind looking down, her clothes fluttering in the wind. In Lin Ran's lens, the bridge looked like a silver thread spanning two mountain peaks.
Below the bridge, a surging sea of clouds stretched out. The camera slowly zoomed in on Su Peixue—she stood at the bridgehead, the wind billowing her like a flag. Occasionally, a car would drive by on the bridge, the sound of its tires echoing through the canyon like distant thunder.
When she turned around, the wind blew all the stray hairs off her forehead, revealing her entire face. Her nose was red from the wind, but her eyes were bright.
After descending from Aizhai, the car wound its way down the mountain road, circling around and around until it finally entered the deepest part of the canyon.
Dehang Miao Village is hidden at the bottom of a canyon, surrounded by steep cliffs covered with withered vines that sway in the wind.
The village is built against the mountain, with all the houses being stilted, covered with green tiles and wooden walls. A stream flows through the middle of the village, its waters gurgling.
Winter is the dry season, and the stream only covers half of the rocks, which are covered with moss. An old man squats beside the hearth, hanging cured pork above it.
Pine and cypress branches burned slowly in the hearth, and the smoke rose up, enveloping the pork. The aroma of meat and smoke mingled together, filling the entire village.
An old woman dressed in blue sat at the doorway weaving a bamboo basket, her fingers moving between the bamboo strips, making a rustling sound.
Su Peixue squatted by the stream, bought two bunches of greens from the old woman, and carefully removed the yellow leaves one by one. The stream water splashed on the leaves, making a soft gurgling sound. The old woman peeked over from the side, her hands still busy, and muttered, "This girl is so skillful."
We rented a guesthouse in a stilted building for the night. The village was extremely quiet; there were no cars, no people, only the sound of the stream flowing through the middle of the village and the occasional bark of a dog.
Su Peixue leaned on the windowsill.