If the memories of my trip to Lijiang were a river, then the warmth and hospitality of Qiuyue Homestay and our host would be the most vibrant ripple on its surface.
Upon landing in Lijiang, the summer heat had already been melted away by the high-altitude winds. Our suitcase wheels struggled to traverse the cobblestone streets, but we were fortunate enough to find ourselves in a "windy little courtyard"—a place just for us. We were immediately taken aback when we opened the door. There was no one at the front desk, only an old plum tree casting its shadow across the courtyard entrance, and a couple chatting idly in the yard. We had no choice but to stand in the yard with our luggage and wait until a Beijing accent reached our ears. The landlady—a real-life "Xu Hongdou," a genuine Beijinger—immediately invited us to eat plums picked that day at the courtyard entrance. Exhausted from our journey, we could only exchange a few words that day. She told us we could pick plums ourselves at the courtyard entrance the next day if we had time. Thus began our ideal Yunnan life…😇
In the evening, we sat in the courtyard, drinking roasted milk and trying milk fan (a type of cheese). As we sipped, large swaths of colorful clouds appeared. We suggested going up to the roof again, and this time the male landlady joined us. We climbed the creaking spiral staircase, and the moment our toes touched the ground, Jade Dragon Snow Mountain slowly rose from behind the clouds. The three of us exclaimed "Wow!" all at once! 😄 We chatted together, and he told us that after his first trip to Lijiang with his students for a photography tour, he decided to quit his job and settle there, opening two courtyard houses with a Beijing flair called "Windy Courtyards." "Beijing is too full, Lijiang is too empty; I call that gap in between 'life.'" He showed us photos he had taken over the years of colorful sunsets, the golden glow on the mountains, the snow-capped peaks ablaze with the setting sun—spectacular sights we had never seen before. Afterwards, he taught us photography; we photographed the clouds, the mountains, and each other, until the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain was gradually enveloped by nightfall…
The next day, the landlord warmly invited us to see the animals in the courtyard: two large poodles—Lai Xi and Lai Cai—like two running clouds, snuggled against our trouser legs; little Lai Mi simply curled himself into a ball of fur and jumped into our arms, his soft belly covering our heartbeats, like pressing a mute button on the world. A parrot perched on the eaves suddenly tilted its head and crisply pecking a "hello," bringing a lively burst into the quiet courtyard. There was also a little cat 🐈, its soft, ash-gray fur like a shadow secretly cut from a snow-capped mountain in the night. When we first met it, it was lying in the moonlight under the eaves, its tail curled into a question mark, as if extending an invitation to us on behalf of the entire courtyard. As soon as we sat down, it strolled over, first touching the tip of our shoes with its nose to check the temperature, then gently leaping—like a page of poetry turned by the wind—and landing on my lap, rolling around, its soft purring like a tiny wind chime encapsulating the tranquility of Lijiang.
Here, time can slow down, and your heart can learn to sing again. The mountains and rivers are gentle, the world is worthwhile, and the owner will quietly slip all his kindness into your pocket—a plum, a word of advice, a sunset on the rooftop.
Original TextTranslation provided by Google