The cool summer breeze at the foot of Xiling Mountain, a leisurely half-day stroll through Xieyuan Ancient Town.

Summer in Xieyuan is softened by the streams. The Xie River flows through the town, its three-tiered waterfalls shattering the summer heat into droplets. The bluestone paths are always damp, as if stepping on moonbeams freshly scooped from the creek. The plum grove has shed its blossoms, and the cicadas' songs dangling between branches are gently crushed by the flowing water, drifting past the covered bridge of Herbal Lane. Someone sits on the railing, swinging their feet, water droplets from sandal tips falling into the stream, startling a few silver-scaled fish that dart past the willow tendrils dipping into the water. Occasional mountain rains in the afternoon weave curtains of droplets from the rooftops' green tiles, washing the distant Xiling Snow Mountain into an even deeper shade of blue. When the rain stops, moss emerges between the stone steps, moist and cool, mingling with unnamed wildflowers at the corners to create a refreshing oasis. As dusk settles, the streams gradually light up, with lantern glow rippling gently on the water's surface. The evening wind slips through the mountain pass, carrying the scent of grass and trees as it brushes past, making one suddenly understand why air conditioning is rarely needed here—nature provides its own fan with the streams and a green mountain screen, turning each day into a perfectly tempered emerald spring.