Want to travel to Wuzhen

Running water all night until dawn, people are sleeping by the river. This is Wuzhen.

Walking in Wuzhen Alley paved with bluestones, my footsteps gently landed on the stone slabs that have not grown old for thousands of years. Every step seems to be beating history, and every brick seems to be telling an ancient story. Time seems to have stopped in my searching eyes, and then I go back quietly. I don't know how deep the alley is. It seems that as long as you walk along the deep alley, you can walk into the long and ancient story of Wuzhen.

Vicissitudes give people a sense of calmness and elegance. I feel that I am heading for a tunnel of time and space reversal, and I am heading for a certain yesterday along the thread of time. Just stepping on this "old" who has been baptized by history, passing through winding alleys and stroking those carved windows. Are you looking for distant memories, or are you listening to an old story? I don't know, but my heart was inexplicably moved. Is it the silence that this city can't have? Here, it's like coming to a quiet paradise, but there is no god, only black tiles, deep purple wooden walls, carved windows, ancient eaves, crude stone bridges and faint rivers passing through the town. Water is green water, which is the soul here. It flows quietly, calmly passes through the city, and also wears a song-like years. It is water that has moistened Wuzhen for thousands of years. The leisurely boat of Wu Peng swims quietly in this floating market and on the earth. The tall mast is still standing on the mottled bow, and the elegant calico is swaying in the wind, swaying the beautiful and graceful ink and wash Jiangnan. It's a thousand years, but it's far and not far.

Where there is water, there is a bridge. The bridge in Wuzhen is also interesting and full of energy. I am standing on the Shuang Yuan Bridge. I heard that on this bridge, I was promoted on the left and made a fortune on the right. The biggest bridge in Wuzhen is the one on Dongshi River. Most bridges in Wuzhen are stone arch bridges with a long ancient rhyme. Arch bridges or river crossings, or lying in river ports, have few handrails, only slightly higher than streets by three or five steps. Wanxing Bridge, Xian 'an Bridge, Fu 'an Bridge ... Each bridge has its own auspicious name to express people's wishes. In this way, Wuzhen people endowed the bridge with a kind of spiritual luck, and stepping on the bridge during the annual Lantern Festival became an opportunity for people to pray for good luck.

Looking into the attic by the river, occasionally a few grandfathers and grandmothers are taking a nap, standing quietly in the middle of the room with a loom, letting the tourists outside chirp past and the water gurgling under the window. How leisurely! The aroma of shochu in Goldman Sachs Gongsan Distillery is overflowing, and I don't know how many guests are drunk. Maybe this is the so-called wine is not afraid of the alley!

Finally, visit Mao Dun Memorial Hall. You can tell from the threshold that this used to be a big house, with front hall and back hall, left room and right room, and cloisters. Outstanding people, Shen Jiapei raised a rebel of his own, but Wuzhen became famous for it. As a cultural pioneer of the proletariat in China, Mao Dun began his long-term campaign as a proletarian cultural warrior after learning his own knowledge in this rainy and dewy south of the Yangtze River. I think this is Mao Dun of Wuzhen, and it is Mao Dun's Wuzhen. The civilization of Wuzhen ultimately comes down to its profound cultural heritage. I know that Wuzhen is also named after Mao Dun's generation of literary masters.

Many people say that Wuzhen is an ancient dream, with dark wooden windows, small tile houses with gray eaves and blue bricks, winding alleys and dark corridors at dusk, which extend classically and float in people's hearts like a faint ink painting.

This is Wuzhen, a small town in the south of the Yangtze River and a quiet dreamy water town. Thousands of years of vicissitudes have added unique charm to it, some reserved and scattered ... seemingly lonely but elegant as poetry.

A deja vu dream ...

When I left this dream, the wind tore open the clouds and a glimmer of light appeared on the horizon. The sun shines in the water, and the paddle cuts a river color, gold and silver, and the river is dense. Wuzhen has gradually gone away, but the water in this dream is still flowing in my heart.