A Visual and Culinary Feast: A Two-Day Immersion in Xinghua's Water Countryside
1. Discovering the Golden Secret Realm
In mid-March, as I drove into Xinghua, the scent of rapeseed flowers already filled the air. Following the navigation towards the Qianduo Scenic Area, the plains outside the car window were gradually segmented by scattered, raised fields, as if the earth were an overturned palette. The cruise terminal at the entrance of the scenic area was crowded with tourists holding cameras. I joined the crowd and boarded a sculling boat. The moment the wooden oars broke the spring water, the rapeseed flower fields on both sides spread out into the distance like golden waves. The boatman's ditty from the Lixiahe region intertwined with the buzzing of bees, and occasionally, egrets skimmed over the sea of flowers, their wings dusted with fragmented sunlight.
Climbing the newly built aerial walkway in the scenic area, the view suddenly opened up. The raised fields floated like islands in the water network, and the golden blocks and green waterways outlined a geometric aesthetic. An elderly man traveling with me told me that these raised fields, which are above the water surface, have a history of more than 700 years and are the crystallization of the wisdom of the ancestors in their struggle against floods. Standing on the panoramic viewing platform, the shock that the phone lens could not capture came head-on - tens of thousands of acres of flowers surged in the spring breeze, and even the air was filled with a honey-like sweetness.
2. The Wrinkles of Time in the Ancient City
In the afternoon, I turned into the old city of Xinghua, and the bluestone road of Jindongmen Old Street still had the dampness of the morning dew. The gate of Zheng Banqiao's former residence was not large, but it hid the artistic conception of "an elegant room does not need to be large". Passing through the moon gate, in the bamboo-shadowed courtyard, orchids grew quietly under the white walls. The docent at the former residence said that Mr. Banqiao loved to conceive his paintings and calligraphy in such a small courtyard, and the poem "I lie in my office and listen to the rustling bamboo, suspecting it is the sound of the people's suffering" was born here.
The Xinghua Museum next door is worth a visit. The Shi Nai'an Exhibition Hall on the second floor uses holographic projection to reproduce the creation scene of Water Margin. In the interweaving of light and shadow, it seems that you can see this literary master writing furiously under the oil lamp. The museum's treasures - the silver ingot from the Tang Dynasty and Zheng Banqiao's authentic works - tell the story of the city's cultural heritage through the glass. The boat hall in Liyuan behind the museum is exquisitely designed. It is said that the owner of the garden specially built the building into the shape of a ship's bow, meaning "setting sail", in order to resolve the ominous sound of prison shackles.
3. The Rhythm of Water Countryside on the Tip of the Tongue
At six o'clock the next morning, the morning tea at Dahua Restaurant was already packed. The knife skills of the blanched shredded dried tofu were as fine as hair. It was drizzled with soy sauce and sesame oil and piled into a small mountain in a celadon bowl. The skin of the crab roe soup dumpling was as thin as a cicada's wing, and the golden soup could be seen with a light poke of a straw. An old man at the next table taught me to pair it with Luyang Spring Tea: "Open the window first, then drink the soup, and then eat the filling." Sure enough, the tea fragrance and the umami of the crab roe collided on the tip of the tongue, instantly awakening the taste buds.
On the way to Lizhong Water Forest, I passed a farmhouse restaurant in Dongluo Village. The owner recommended seasonal river delicacies: steamed white fish with tender meat, crab roe tofu wrapped in golden crab oil, and the most amazing was Zhongzhuang drunken crab, the salty, fragrant, and slightly sweet marinade seeped into the crab meat, which could be eaten without steaming. After the meal, I took a walk in the village and saw the villagers washing the newly dug dragon yam by the stream. The purple-brown skin was covered with moist soil, reminiscent of the scenes in A Bite of China.
4. Forest Secrets and the Way Home
The Orychophragmus violaceus in Lizhong Water Forest was in full bloom, and purple carpets covered the Metasequoia forest. When traveling by bamboo raft, the raftsman told the ecological story of this forest: "The fallen leaves of the Metasequoia sink to the bottom of the water and become food for the fish. Birds build nests on the branches, forming a small world of cyclical symbiosis." When we reached the mist forest area, light gauze-like mist rose from the forest, as if we were in a fairyland. Photography enthusiasts set up tripods, waiting for the moment when the sun penetrated the water mist.
Before returning, I made a detour to Zhuhong Ancient Town. Old craftsmen were hammering tinware in workshops, and the clanging sound revealed the calmness of the years. I chose a handmade tin pot as a souvenir. The shop owner carefully tied it with a red rope and told me: "Go back and brew a pot of Biluochun, and I guarantee the tea will be more fragrant." The Pingwang Lake under the setting sun glowed with amber light, and the distant raised fields had turned into hazy silhouettes, but the fragrance of rapeseed flowers still lingered on my sleeves.
Postscript
The two-day trip to Xinghua was like walking through a slowly unfolding ink painting. As the city's neon lights gradually lit up, the photos in my phone had accumulated into fragments of spring memories: golden seas of flowers, mottled old walls, steaming morning tea, birdsong in the forest... This small water town uses its unique raised field aesthetics and slow-paced life to make every visitor a decoration in the painting. If you ask when I will come again? Perhaps it should be in autumn, to see chrysanthemums blooming all over the raised fields and reeds swaying by the water, continuing the poetry of the four seasons.