Pushing open the glass door of the hotel, a wisp of elegant wood fragrance lingered like mist, like musk and cedar whispers, and with a hint of citrus freshness, instantly smoothed the fatigue of the journey. The lobby lights were warm amber, falling on the wall of logs and linens, as if crumpling time into a gentle fold. In the corner, a green plant with a strong attitude grew silently in a coarse pottery, and the few ink and water abstract paintings on the wall became interesting here, the beauty is restrained but full of breath.
The room is a plain oriental aesthetic theater. The filtered skylight of the gauze curtain flows on the tatami tea mat, and a few handmade pots are slanted in a few dead lotus, and there is a Zen vitality in the dead. The bedding is unbleached cotton and linen, and when it touches the skin, it is like being wrapped in clouds, and the pillow is intimately prepared with lavender essential oil spray, the night wind is passing, and even the dream is dyed with grass and wood.
The early morning restaurant is like a still life painting of Monet. On the long table, white porcelain plates are filled with eggs and noodles, and chicken curry is golden on the plate. Even the eggs are fresh, as if you can hear the sound of morning dew falling into the mountains. The waiter's smiles are like an early spring ironing, and the curve of the wrist when adding coffee is just the elegance of a five-star hotel.
The most moving are those who are not said: the warm good night tea on the bedside table at night, the oil paper umbrella on the door handle suddenly appeared on the rainy day, and even the handwritten postcard handed by the front desk when checking out - the ink is not dry ”Goodbye” word, clearly the pen of Jiangnan. In Yixuan, even the commercialized word ”service” has been retranslated into ”sympathetic”. If travelers are drifting clouds, here is the moon that knows how to follow the wind speed.