《浙江考察記，1982：烏岩嶺的溪澗、江心嶼的楹聯與金華雙洞》

1982年7月中旬，參加校科教片攝製組一行七人，去浙江省境內的幾處名山大川進行實地考察、拍攝與錄像。植物系的Q教授帶隊，此行是他的女碩士生畢業實習。還有Q教授的兒子，小Q，也是研究植物的。剩下四個連我在內的是錄像攝製組成員。

一、雁蕩山的魔幻

到達雁蕩山的當晚，在靈峰附近的一個招待所放下行李，將就著在食堂裡吃了晚飯，我們幾個就迫不及待地進了山。

參差錯落、高聳入雲的雁蕩群峰，靜默地守在如練的月色裡，黑黝黝的，顯得如此地清寂空靈，讓人不由得生出一抹敬畏來，連說話都不敢大聲。幽谷微風拂袖，夾帶著一絲涼意。空谷幽林中我們只遇到過三五個遊人。

靜謐的夜色中群山環抱，首先映入眼簾的一座輪廓比較清晰的山峰，很像一隻龐然的動物趴在高處，翹首以待的樣子。同事小X說那叫「犀牛望月」，哇，您別說，還真像！有人在出遊前就做好功課，知道在那兒會看到什麼景，知道哪裡是看點以及與此有關的傳說與典故。

那片區域真是移步換景，同一座山峰，在不同的角度觀看，它的形象會變，而且十分的形似：「夫妻峰」、「雄鷹斂翅」、「雙乳峰」...大自然惟妙惟肖地模仿著不同的生靈形象，於無言中向遊客展示著動人的紅塵故事。

這出差旅遊，我也有個小小的糾結。如果看了旅遊手冊，什麼都了解了再去，就沒了我那種誤打誤撞帶來的新鮮感。然而什麼也不知道就去，往往會走過、路過而錯過。估計是當有錢有閒的時候，到一個地方待上一段日子，慢慢地了解當地的風土人情，比較可取。既不會錯過該看的，又不用事先做太仔細的了解。我是那個糊裡糊塗跟著走的人，竊以為我的新鮮感、欣喜感要比做足功課的同行人要強烈的多。我的這份欣喜的關鍵是要跟著「明白人」出遊。

次日上午麗日當空，我們一行人便開始進山工作。昨晚我們進山觀夜景時，天黑溫度低，又帶著初來乍到的興奮，沒有太注意，到了白天才發現，進山前好長一段我們昨晚走過的路的兩旁，有許多破敗的簡易茅廁棚，被太陽一曬，臭氣四散。別看我在農場裡呆過，卻也受不了這一眼望不到頭的陣仗，十分掃興。我把草帽沿兒壓下來，低著頭，緊緊跟著同行小L的身後，盡量屏住呼吸憋著氣，盯著他的腳後跟往山裡走，直到他說好了。我才掀開草帽深呼一口大山裡的新鮮空氣。

哇～！大山中滿目蔥蘢，空氣極其清新。那時候景區裡極少人工雕琢，上山的路也是自然石塊兒壘的。Q教授帶著兒子與徒弟，尋找收集植物標本；我們則忙活採光、攝製、錄像。

這張照片背景中的那座山峰叫「合掌峰」，其實就是晚上從不同角度看到的「夫妻峰」「雙乳峰」和「雄鷹斂翅」。

路過落差五十多米的小龍湫後，来到了近兩百米高，氣勢宏偉的大龍湫瀑布下，已經是汗水沾衣了。瀑布的轟鳴聲若滂沱，懸空急下的飛流，尚未落入深潭，大半就已經化為霧氣輕煙，與陽光中折射出一道絢麗的彩虹。陣陣彌霧，細雨般撲面而來，令人心曠神怡。瀑布下潭水清冽，已有寥寥幾個遊人在齊膝深的潭邊戲水。我們幾個早到的，便急忙脫去鞋襪將腳伸進潭水中。乍一下，從腳底傳來驚心徹骨的涼爽。

「快別這樣！快別這樣！」Q教授父子倆才來到潭邊。
「為什麼？」我問。
「你現在渾身冒汗，一下子把腿伸進冰涼的水裡，將來會得靜脈曲張的。」小Q回答。
好可怕！我忙將雙腿縮回，從此便有了一絲對將來是否會得靜脈曲張的擔憂。

在瀑布旁休息一會兒後，繼續往裡走。山間洞穴相連林木茂密，古老的寺廟禪院掩映其中，我們在「將軍洞」稍停片刻，點了香還抽了籤兒。

我抽到了一支上上籤，高興地到老和尚那兒換了一張寫著字的紙，內容不記得了，但肯定是說好的。但其他幾個同事都笑我的這個籤不算數。怎麼會不算數？我有生以來唯一的一次，捧著竹籤筒虔誠地一下一下顛，眼看一支籤遙遙領先竄出，未等它完全掉到地上，我一把將它抓住，那怎麼會不算數！可他們依然笑道：自己抽出來的籤兒是不能算的！應該等那竹籤兒掉到地上。

午後，天色將暗。山中原本遊人稀少，此時愈顯寧靜。經過一天的工作，我們提著攝製器械，拖著略帶疲憊的步子取道回招待所。

經過中折瀑時，山路拐彎處見有兩個玩兒紙牌的，邊上還有一看客，他們都不像是外來的遊人。

一個人坐在路邊大青石上，將手裡的兩黑一紅三張紙牌，先讓對方看清了，然後將牌扣著放在光滑的石面上，三轉兩轉快速變換牌的位置。

蹲在他對面的那個人，兩眼緊盯著那張紅牌，滴溜溜地跟著那弄牌的手追蹤那張紅牌。他低著頭，兩眼不離開那張牌，抬手遞給弄牌的兩塊錢為賭注。如果他能猜出紅牌所在位置，不但能把這兩塊錢拿回來，還能贏到兩塊錢，否則就輸掉賭注。

我們一行人圍著看熱鬧，見那人回回看錯，而且變本加厲不斷加大賭注。我們在一邊看得真真切切，次次猜對，都為那蹲著的幹著急。

搞研究的兩位對此不感興趣，笑著看了會兒，便去一邊等我們，同時計劃一下明天的日程安排。我們四個正帶勁兒，都為那蹲著的捏把汗。

「左邊！左邊！」有個男同事急得在邊上用腳直踢蹲在地上那人的腳踝。
「左邊！左邊！」另外一個嚷著得直搡那人的肩膀。
那蹲著的就是堅持己見，認定是中間的那張。翻開一看，果然又是我們對，他又輸掉一輪。
「又錯了！又錯了！早聽我們的，你就不會輸了！」我們幾個愛莫能助地嘆息著。
蹲著的這位站了起來，竟脫下手錶遞給了弄牌的。
「傻哥們兒！別再玩兒了！你贏不了的！」急得我們幾個對那人喊叫。

「既然你們那麼聰明，你們來！」一直在邊上觀棋不語的「真君子」這時開了金口。
來就來！我們那麼多雙火眼金睛還怕那紅牌藏哪兒去？！何況前幾盤已經證明我們全看對了。

於是，我們每人掏出錢來，押下賭注。頭一回沒猜準。咦？不服氣，再猜。第二次又不對，怎麼可能？還來。就這樣再猜，再輸。一連幾次都落空了，輸掉好幾十塊錢。

「你他媽的騙子！」恍然大悟的我們幾個，正想跟弄牌的理論。
只聽「哼！哼！」兩聲從高處傳來，有人拿鼻孔出氣！抬頭一看，那弄牌的身後，兩三米高的大石頭上站著一條彪形大漢，叉著雙手虎視眈眈地盯著我們，腰間還揣著把砍柴斧子。

正好，走在後面的老教授跟了上來，我們幾個便趕緊作罷。雖有點沮喪，但還是有說有笑地回到了招待所。仔細一嘀咕，那要輸掉手表的准個是託兒，跟他們是一夥的。他們正是利用了我們的善良與好勝，激我們上當。好一場騙局！我們這些沒心眼兒的人，真容易上當。怎麼就會被騙入圈套？那時我一個月的工資只有四十幾塊，這一賭幾個人的錢加起來就是一個月的工資啊。

當晚，我和女研究生住在底層，寢室內悶熱潮濕還有蚊子，竟不敢開窗睡覺。擔心那大漢會跟蹤來此，或從窗口放條蛇什麼的進來...

第二天早上我們上樓時，幾個男的居然還沒起床，而且還躺著有說有笑。「哎呀～你們還沒漱口刷牙，怎麼就開口說話啦？」我說。他們哈哈大笑起來。自小我媽就叫我們起床第一件事兒：疊被子刷牙洗漱，沒洗漱就說話，那叫「臭嚼！」

二、烏岩嶺的溪澗

烏岩嶺原始森林是國家級自然保護區，當時未曾對遊人開放。我們住在林場招待所新建不久、還帶有木香的兩層樓房裡，門前有條湍急的溪澗。

第一晚，那酷似暴雨如注從不間斷的溪流咆哮聲，令人徹夜難眠。

第二天，便愛上了這裡的幽靜、清新。夜晚溪流的咆哮聲反而成了入睡的催眠曲。正應了王籍「蟬噪林愈靜，鳥鳴山更幽」的意境。

溪澗對岸、密林邊上的一棟兩層木質小樓是林場的食堂。南面有片林子，樓上開放式回廊連著一個向林間突出的大露台。露台上的兩三張簡陋的木質方桌和幾條長凳和房捨一樣都不上漆，露著原木本色，乾乾淨淨。只要是天晴我們就坐在那裡吃飯。

灑向林間的斑駁陽光在枝葉上隨風起舞流光閃爍，叢林深處傳出鳥兒的啁啾悠鳴。我們在溫暖陽光和清新空氣中、在原始森林裡，細細品味著平日吃不到的樸實、鮮美飯菜。伙食中有野生菌菇、木耳、金針、鮮筍、筍乾外加新鮮蔬菜，可能還吃到過山雞和山蛙。

包括廚師在內，總共只見到五六個林場工作人員，都十分純樸好客，令人賓至如歸。

我們每次去食堂要走過一座約莫兩三尺寬、沒有欄杆、簡陋老舊的小木橋。它毫無雕飾地橫架在溪澗之上，和那層層疊疊的原始森林背景渾然一體，夠成了一幅與世無爭的恬淡山野圖。

工作之餘，我們有的坐在橋上垂下雙腿，有的靠在岸邊的大樹樁上聊著天兒，消磨時光。說著說著大家不約而同地靜了下來，出神地望著那層層疊疊雲蒸霞蔚的神秘山林，聆聽溪流的衝刷聲，沉浸在幽谷密林的清新出塵的氛圍中，聽任身心融化在大自然裡。

一個星期轉眼就過去了，恍若隔世的生活體驗，令我們帶著眷戀離去...

三、江心嶼的楹聯

那時到江心嶼只有水路，我們搭乘一隻一次大約可載三四十人的破舊沒棚的機動船渡江。

橫臥在甌江之中的江心嶼，面積不大，但清新秀麗。島嶼東西兩頭各有一座佛塔。島上寺廟、亭台、樓榭、小橋流水及參天大樹十分古樸幽靜。當了解到歷代文人墨客曾在此駐足，尤其是大詩人李白、杜甫、謝靈運等都曾為這裡寫過詩時，那感覺更是不一樣了，似乎有了能與古人交流的一種素雅情懷。

古老的江心寺山門臨江，掛有相傳為南宋時期的疊字楹聯：

雲朝朝朝朝朝朝朝朝散  潮長長長長長長長長長消

這張大樹下我的側背影照片是小L拍的，那一刻的時光，被定格在了這萋萋芳草邊的蔥蘢古樹之下……我在想什麼，或是什麼都不想，或是一任思緒萬千……

煙波浩渺的東海，在遠處泛著波瀾，悠悠萬世間何處尋覓歸宿。

事實上我那時的很多照片都是小L給拍的，他就像我的小跟班，純樸善良。多虧那時他幫我拍了不少照片，將我的青春倩影保留了下來。年輕時不知道，以為照片隨時都可以拍，幾十年過去了才知道，時過境遷，人也會變老。鏡頭前再也不會有年輕時的風采了，錯過了就是永遠……

四、金華的雙洞

我們又從溫州乘坐長途公共汽車，沿著甌江，一路風塵僕僕前往金華，遊覽著名的雙龍洞和冰壺洞。

去金華的路途上驕陽似火，曬得車廂跟烤爐似的悶熱。車窗全部敞開著，破舊的長途汽車一路顛簸。乘客們個個蓬頭垢面，無精打彩，連話也懶得說。一半以上的乘客，閉著眼睛，打著盹兒，歪著腦袋，隨車晃動。

儘管路途勞盹，但出遊機會難得，錯過領略他鄉風情會留有遺憾，我不敢打瞌睡。造化總是眷顧有心人的，車子開過了好長一段塵土飛揚、破舊衰敗的城鎮，一駛入鄉野，便立刻令人感到神清氣爽。相當長的一段沿江路上，從車窗探出頭去朝下望，能看到彎彎曲曲、風光旖旎的甌江。有的地方河床開闊，江水不深，水中時有白色沙洲。兩岸茵茵綠草依伴著散落光滑的鵝卵石，偶爾還有幾頭牛羊在吃草。在大城市長大沒出過幾次遠門兒的我，對《詩經》中「在河之洲」審美意境的想象，此時此刻得到了滿意的詮釋。

海拔一千多米的北山中有遠近聞名的金華三洞，朝真洞最高，冰壺洞居中，底層的雙龍洞最有名。

雙龍洞分內外兩洞，外洞寬大可容千餘人，洞口兩側懸著的鐘乳石很像兩個龍頭，估計就是雙龍洞的名稱由來。

內洞被一塊巨大的岩石擋著，距岩石底一尺左右有一泓清泉。進出內洞小船是唯一的交通工具。水道不寬，小船大概可以容納兩個人，人在船上只能仰臥，直挺挺地躺在船底。船的兩頭有繩子共內外兩洞的工作人員拉。小船從約莫二三丈寬、濕滑濕滑的岩底的水面穿過，到岩底中部時眼前一片漆黑，彷彿岩石就要塌落下來，緊閉雙眼才減少了這種恐懼。過了這段水路進了內洞，便又豁然開朗。

內洞深邃，鐘乳交接千姿百態，石瀑、石筍形狀怪異。順著洞中山道拾階而上，幾經轉折便来到了中層的冰壺洞。

冰壺洞，洞口朝天，肚大身長，寒氣襲人，從洞底登至洞口有石階二三百級。從洞頂石隙中噴出的洞中懸瀑，飛流直下、氣勢磅礴，其聲轟轟如雷灌耳。水石相擊處，飛珠濺玉騰起蒙蒙煙雨迷霧。

出了洞，外邊的酷暑驕陽一時間便是最大的享受了。洞裡呆久了還真有點冷。

洞前小橋流水，四周綠樹環繞，鳥語花香。選了一個面對芭蕉樹的公園長靠椅坐下小憩。取出剛從洞口玻璃推車裡買的金華酥餅，咬一口，嗯...好香！

那年月，自然景區很少人工雕琢。用後來的話說，就是原生態。那時洞裡面也有燈光但不是花狸狐哨令人眼花繚亂的彩燈。

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Fieldwork in Zhejiang, 1982: The Streams of Wuyanling, the Couplets of Jiangxinyu, and the Twin Caves of Jinhua

In mid-July 1982, I joined a school educational film crew—a party of seven—to travel to several famous mountains and rivers in Zhejiang Province for fieldwork, filming, and video recording. Professor Q from the Biology Department led the team, and this trip served as the graduation internship for his female master's student. Professor Q's son, Little Q, who was also a botany researcher, came along. The remaining four of us, including myself, made up the video production crew.

I. The Magic of Yandang Mountain

On the night we arrived at Yandang Mountain, we dropped our luggage at a guest house near Lingfeng, made do with dinner at the cafeteria, and immediately headed into the mountains, unable to wait a moment longer.

The jagged, uneven peaks of Yandang towered into the clouds, standing silently under a moonlit sky that looked like a strip of white silk. Dark and silhouetted, the mountains possessed a quiet, ethereal solitude that naturally commanded a sense of awe; none of us dared to speak in loud voices. A gentle breeze through the secluded valley brushed past our sleeves, carrying a hint of chill. In the empty valley and quiet woods, we encountered only three or five other tourists.

Surrounded by mountains in the quiet night, the first peak that came into clear view resembled a massive animal crouched at a high altitude, waiting expectantly with its head raised. My colleague Little X said it was called "Rhinoceros Gazing at the Moon." And indeed, it looked exactly like one! Some people had done their homework before the trip, knowing exactly what sights to expect, where the key viewpoints were, and the legends and anecdotes associated with them. It was a place where the scenery changed with every step. The exact same peak, viewed from different angles, would transform into remarkably lifelike shapes: "Husband and Wife Peak," "Eagle Folding Its Wings," "Double Breast Peak"... Nature subtly imitated different living forms, silently presenting moving stories of the mortal world to the tourists.

I had a small dilemma regarding this kind of business travel. If I read the travel brochure and understood everything before going, I would lose the sense of novelty brought by stumbling into things blindly. Yet, going without knowing anything often meant walking past, passing through, and missing things entirely. I suppose the ideal way is to have money and leisure, stay in a place for a period, and slowly get to know the local customs. That way, one avoids missing what should be seen without needing to study everything too meticulously beforehand. I was the type who followed along in a daze, and I secretly believed my sense of novelty and delight was much stronger than that of my colleagues who had done thorough research. The key to my delight, however, was traveling alongside "knowledgeable people."

The next morning, under a bright sun, our group headed into the mountains to begin our work. When we went in to view the night scenery the evening before, it had been dark and cold, and carrying the excitement of being newcomers, we hadn't noticed much. It was only during the day that we discovered a long stretch of the path we had walked the previous night was lined on both sides with dilapidated, makeshift latrine sheds. Baked by the sun, the foul odor scattered in all directions. Even though I had spent time working on a farm, I couldn't stand this endless array of squalor; it was highly disheartening. I pulled the brim of my straw hat down, lowered my head, and tightly followed behind my colleague Little L. I held my breath as much as possible, keeping my eyes fixed on his heels as we walked deeper into the mountain until he finally said it was alright. Only then did I lift my straw hat and take a deep breath of the fresh mountain air.

Ah~! The mountains were a blanket of lush greenery, and the air was incredibly fresh. In those days, there was very little artificial carving in the scenic area; even the paths up the mountain were built from natural stones piled together. Professor Q, along with his son and apprentice, searched for and collected botanical specimens, while the rest of us were busy managing the lighting, filming, and recording. The peak in the background of this photograph is called "Joined Palms Peak," which was actually the very same peak we had viewed from different angles the night before as "Husband and Wife Peak," "Double Breast Peak," and "Eagle Folding Its Wings."

After passing the Small Longqiu Waterfall, which had a drop of over fifty meters, we arrived beneath the magnificent Big Longqiu Waterfall, nearly two hundred meters high. By then, our clothes were soaked with sweat. The roar of the waterfall was like a torrential downpour. The flying torrent rushing down from mid-air mostly turned into mist and light smoke before even hitting the deep pool, refracting a brilliant rainbow in the sunlight. Gusts of dense mist blew against our faces like fine rain, leaving us thoroughly refreshed. Beneath the waterfall, the pool water was crystal clear, and a few scattered tourists were already playing in the knee-deep water at the edge. Those of us who arrived early hurriedly took off our shoes and socks and thrust our feet into the pool. Instantly, a piercing, bone-chilling coolness surged up from the soles of our feet.

"Stop that at once! Stop that at once!" Professor Q and his son had just arrived at the water's edge.

"Why?" I asked.

"You are dripping with sweat right now. If you suddenly plunge your legs into ice-cold water, you will develop varicose veins in the future," Little Q answered.

How terrifying! I quickly pulled my legs back, and from then on, a lingering worry about whether I would get varicose veins in the future settled into my mind.

After resting by the waterfall for a while, we continued further inside. The mountain caves connected one after another amidst dense woods, with ancient temples and Zen monasteries nestled among them. We paused briefly at the General’s Cave, where we lit incense and drew fortune sticks.

I drew a top-tier fortune stick. Delighted, I went to the old monk to exchange it for a slip of paper with writing on it. I don't remember the text, but it was certainly auspicious. However, my other colleagues laughed and said my draw didn't count. How could it not count? For the first time in my life, I had held the bamboo container with pure devotion, shaking it slowly stroke by stroke until one stick clearly shot ahead of the rest. Before it even hit the ground completely, I snatched it in mid-air. How could that not count! Yet they still laughed and said: A fortune stick you catch yourself cannot count! You are supposed to wait for the bamboo stick to fall to the ground.

By afternoon, the sky began to darken. The mountains, already sparse with tourists, grew even quieter. After a full day of work, we carried our filming equipment and retraced our steps toward the guest house with weary strides.

As we passed the Zhongzhe Waterfall, we spotted two people playing cards at a bend in the mountain path, with another onlooker standing beside them. None of them looked like outside tourists.

The man sitting on a large blue rock by the roadside held three cards—two black and one red—showing them clearly to his opponent first. Then, he placed the cards face down on the smooth stone surface, shifting and swapping their positions rapidly with a few swift turns of his hands.

The man squatting opposite him kept his eyes locked on that red card, his gaze darting around as he tracked the red card following the movements of the dealer's hands. With his head lowered and his eyes glued to the card, he raised his hand and handed over two yuan as a wager. If he could guess the position of the red card, he would not only get his two yuan back but also win another two yuan; otherwise, he would lose his bet.

Our group gathered around to watch the excitement. We noticed that the man guessed wrong every single time, yet he doubled down stubbornly, continuously increasing his wagers. Standing to the side, we could see everything with absolute clarity and guessed correctly every time, feeling intensely anxious for the squatting man.

The two researchers had no interest in this. They watched with a smile for a moment and then went to the side to wait for us, planning the next day's schedule. The four of us, however, were thoroughly engrossed, breaking into a sweat on behalf of the squatting man.

"The left! The left!" one male colleague called out in frustration, directly nudging the squatting man's ankle with his foot.

"The left! The left!" another shouted, shaking the man's shoulder.

Yet the squatting man stubbornly stuck to his own opinion, insisting it was the card in the middle. When it was flipped over, we were right once again, and he lost another round.

"Wrong again! Wrong again! If you had just listened to us earlier, you wouldn't have lost!" The few of us sighed, unable to help.

The squatting man stood up and unexpectedly took off his wristwatch, handing it over to the card dealer.

"Are you crazy, brother? Stop playing! You can't win!" Frustrated, the few of us shouted at the man.

"Since you folks are so smart, why don't you play!" The "true gentleman" who had been standing by silently watching without a word finally opened his mouth.

Let's do it then! With so many pairs of sharp eyes among us, where could that red card possibly hide?! Besides, the previous rounds had already proven that we were entirely correct every time.

Thus, each of us pulled out our money and placed our wagers. On the first try, we guessed wrong. Huh? Refusing to accept defeat, we guessed again. The second time was wrong too. How was that possible? We tried again. Just like that, we kept guessing, and we kept losing. After several consecutive misses, we had lost several dozen yuan.

"You damn swindler!" Realizing the truth all at once, the few of us prepared to argue with the card dealer.

Just then, two sharp grunts came from above—someone was snorting through their nose! Looking up, on a large boulder two or three meters high directly behind the card dealer stood a hulking man. With his arms crossed, he stared down at us like a tiger watching its prey, a wood-chopping axe tucked into his waist.

As luck would have it, the old professor who had been walking behind caught up with us, so the few of us hurriedly dropped the matter. Though a bit disheartened, we returned to the guest house talking and laughing. After talking it through carefully, we realized the man who was about to lose his watch was almost certainly a plant, working in cahoots with the swindlers. They had deliberately exploited our kindness and competitive nature to trick us into the trap. What a complete scam! People as simple-minded as us were truly easy targets. How did we manage to get lured right into their snare? Back then, my monthly salary was only forty-some yuan; adding everyone's losses together, that single gamble cost us an entire month's wages.

That night, the female graduate student and I stayed on the ground floor. The bedroom was sweltering, humid, and full of mosquitoes, yet we didn't dare open the windows to sleep. I was terrified that the hulking man might track us there, or slip a snake through the window...

The next morning, when we went upstairs, the men hadn't even rolled out of bed yet, lying there talking and laughing. "Oh my~ you haven't even rinsed your mouths or brushed your teeth, how can you open your mouths to speak?" I said. They burst into roaring laughter. Since I was a child, my mother had taught us that the very first thing to do upon waking up was to make the bed, brush our teeth, and wash up. Speaking before washing up was what she called "chewing with a foul mouth!"

II. The Streams of Wuyanling

The Wuyanling primeval forest is a national nature reserve and was not open to tourists at that time. We stayed in a newly built two-story building belonging to the forest farm's guest house, which still carried the scent of fresh wood. A torrential stream rushed right past the front door.

On the first night, the roaring sound of the stream—which sounded exactly like an endless, pouring rainstorm—made it completely impossible to sleep.

By the second day, however, I fell in love with the solitude and freshness of this place. At night, the roaring of the stream actually turned into a soothing lullaby to help me drift off to sleep. It perfectly matched the poetic imagery described by Wang Ji: "The cicadas buzz, making the forest seem even quieter; a bird chirps, rendering the mountain remoter still."

On the opposite bank of the stream, right at the edge of the dense forest, stood a two-story wooden building that served as the forest farm's cafeteria. To its south stretched a grove of trees, and an open corridor on the upper floor connected to a large terrace extending out into the woods. The two or three simple wooden square tables and several long benches on the terrace, just like the building itself, were entirely unpainted, exposing the clean, natural color of raw wood. Whenever the weather was clear, we sat there to have our meals.

The dappled sunlight filtering into the forest danced and shimmered on the branches and leaves with the wind, while the deep recesses of the jungle echoed with the soft, lingering chirps of birds. Enveloped by warm sunshine and fresh air inside a primeval forest, we carefully savored simple yet incredibly fresh dishes that we could never taste in our daily lives. The meals included wild mushrooms, wood ear fungus, daylilies, fresh bamboo shoots, dried bamboo shoots, along with fresh vegetables; we might have even eaten wild pheasant and mountain frogs.

Including the chef, we only saw five or six staff members at the forest farm in total. All of them were incredibly simple, genuine, and hospitable, making us feel thoroughly at home.

Every time we went to the cafeteria, we had to cross a simple, old wooden plank bridge about two or three feet wide with no railings. It spanned across the stream without a single artificial embellishment, blending seamlessly with the backdrop of the cascading primeval forest, forming a peaceful, serene countryside painting completely detached from worldly strife.

After finishing our work, some of us sat on the bridge with our legs dangling over the edge, while others leaned against large tree stumps on the bank, chatting to pass the time. As we talked, everyone fell silent at the same time by unspoken consensus, gazing absentmindedly at the cascading, mist-shrouded, mysterious mountain forests. We listened to the rushing water of the stream, immersing ourselves entirely in the fresh, unearthly atmosphere of the secluded valley and dense woods, letting our minds and bodies melt completely into nature.

A week passed in the blink of an eye. This experience of living a life that felt entirely detached from the mortal world left us departing with deep attachment...

III. The Couplets of Jiangxinyu

In those days, the only way to reach Jiangxinyu was by water. We crossed the river aboard a dilapidated, roofless motorized boat that could carry about thirty to forty people at a time.

Lying across the Ou River, Jiangxinyu was not large in area, yet it was extraordinarily fresh and beautiful. A Buddhist pagoda stood at both the eastern and western ends of the island. The temples, pavilions, terraces, small bridges over flowing water, and towering ancient trees on the island were remarkably primitive and serene. Upon learning that literary figures throughout history had paused here—especially great poets like Li Bai, Du Fu, and Xie Lingyun, who had all penned poems for this place—the feeling became entirely different, bringing a refined sentiment of being able to commune with the ancients. The mountain gate of the ancient Jiangxin Temple faced the river, hanging a overlapping-character couplet said to date back to the Southern Song Dynasty:
The clouds gather and disperse, day after day, morning after morning.
The tide rises and falls, ebb after ebb, flow after flow.

This photograph of my side-profile and back under a large tree was taken by Little L. That exact moment in time was frozen beneath this lush ancient tree beside the thick, vibrant grass... I wonder what I was thinking then—perhaps I was thinking of nothing at all, or perhaps I simply let my thoughts wander endlessly... The vast, misty Eastern Sea swelled with ripples in the distance; where in this eternal world does one search for a place to call home?

In fact, many of my photographs back then were taken by Little L. He was like my little helper, simple-hearted and kind. Thanks to him helping me take so many photos back then, the youthful silhouette of my prime years was preserved. When I was young, I didn't realize it, assuming photos could be taken at any time. Only after decades passed did I realize that as times change, people also grow old. The vigor and grace of youth will never appear before a camera lens again; once missed, it is gone forever.

IV. The Twin Caves of Jinhua

From Wenzhou, we took a long-distance public bus along the Ou River, traveling through the dust all the way to Jinhua to visit the famous Shuanglong (Double Dragon) Cave and Binghu (Ice Jug) Cave.

During the journey to Jinhua, the sun baked down like fire, making the bus cabin as stiflingly hot as an oven. The windows were kept entirely wide open, and the dilapidated long-distance bus bumped violently along the road. The passengers were all covered in dust and utterly listless, too drained even to speak. More than half of them kept their eyes closed, dozing off with their heads tilted, swaying along with the movement of the vehicle.

Despite the exhaustion of the journey, opportunities to travel were rare, and leaving behind a regret by missing out on the customs of another land was something I couldn't bear, so I did not dare to fall asleep. Nature always favors those who pay attention. After driving through a very long stretch of dusty, dilapidated, and decaying towns, the vehicle finally steered into the open countryside, instantly leaving me feeling refreshed. For a considerable distance along the riverside road, leaning out of the window to look down revealed the winding, picturesque scenery of the Ou River. In some places, the riverbed was wide and the water shallow, with white sandbars occasionally appearing in the water. Lush green grass bordered both banks alongside scattered, smooth river cobblestones, and occasionally a few cattle and sheep could be seen grazing. Having grown up in a big city and rarely traveled far from home during my youth, my imagination of the aesthetic imagery of "on the sandbar of the river" from the Classic of Poetry (Shijing) received a satisfying interpretation at that very moment.

Located in the North Mountain, which rises over a thousand meters above sea level, are the well-known three caves of Jinhua. The Chaozhen Cave sits at the highest altitude, the Binghu Cave occupies the middle, and the Shuanglong Cave at the bottom is the most famous.

The Shuanglong Cave is split into an outer and an inner cave. The outer cave is vast and can accommodate over a thousand people. The stalactites hanging from both sides of the cave entrance look remarkably like two dragon heads, which is presumably the origin of the name Shuanglong.

The inner cave is blocked by a massive rock, with a pool of clear spring water resting about one foot beneath its base. A small boat is the sole means of transportation to enter and exit the inner cave. The waterway is narrow, and the boat can only accommodate about two people. While on the boat, one can only lie flat on their back, stretched out rigidly against the bottom of the boat. Ropes are attached to both ends of the boat, pulled by staff members stationed in the outer and inner caves respectively. The small boat slips beneath the wet, slippery rock base across a water surface about two to three zhang wide. When reaching the middle section beneath the rock, everything plunges into pitch darkness, making it feel as though the rock is about to collapse right down on you; only by closing my eyes tightly could I reduce this terror. Once past this stretch of water and inside the inner cave, the space opens up abruptly into a wide, bright expanse.

The inner cave is deep and profound, with stalactites and stalagmites meeting in countless forms, creating bizarre shapes of stone waterfalls and stone shoots. Following the mountain path inside the cave and climbing up the stone steps, after several twists and turns, we arrived at the Binghu Cave on the middle tier.

The mouth of the Binghu Cave faces straight up toward the sky. The cave itself possesses a massive belly and a long body, with a biting cold air that assaults the senses. Climbing from the bottom of the cave to its exit requires scaling two to three hundred stone steps. A hanging waterfall inside the cave bursts directly down from a fissure in the cave ceiling, rushing downward with magnificent momentum, its sound roaring like thunder in one's ears. Where the water crashes against the rocks, flying droplets and splashing jade rise into a dense mist of smoke and rain.

Upon stepping out of the cave, the scorching summer sun outside felt like the greatest luxury for a moment. Having stayed inside the cave for so long, it really felt quite cold.

In front of the cave, a small bridge spanned over flowing water, surrounded by green trees, singing birds, and fragrant flowers. I picked a long park bench facing a group of plantain trees to sit down and rest. Taking out a Jinhua crispy pastry I had just bought from a glass pushcart near the cave entrance, I took a bite. Mmm... incredibly fragrant!

In those days, natural scenic areas saw very little artificial carving. In later terms, it was pure原生态 (pristine environment). Back then, there were lights inside the caves as well, but they were not those gaudy, dazzling, multicolored neon lights that make one's eyes swim.

特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。

Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.

第三百六十九篇