The sound of water in my dreams, the lingering mist upon waking.
I had originally booked another guesthouse, drawn to its lotus pond, envisioning myself pushing open the window to a fragrant scene of flowers and shadows. Arriving dusty and windswept at midnight, I was instead greeted by the manager of Yun She Pu Ju and taken to their guesthouse. It turned out to be a happy accident, perfectly aligning with my desires.
The small courtyard sits beside the river, separated by a narrow path. The river flows from Shenlongtan. Every few steps in the courtyard reveals a new charming scene, starting with the welcoming greenery. I especially adore the potted lotuses at the entrance and the crape myrtle tree with its small night light, currently in full bloom. On sunny days, its crimson flowers create a vibrant display, while after the rain, fallen petals carpet the ground. Along the riverbank, there's an open-air tea area, wooden tables and chairs under the shade of osmanthus trees, a double swing, and a Japanese-style tatami room with a glass roof. These spaces can comfortably accommodate a few close friends, offering a perfect spot for everyone, regardless of their preferences.
A large tree stands like a knight guarding the entrance. Inside, to the right, is a glass-enclosed study overlooking the river. To my surprise, I discovered that its collection overlaps with my own library by more than half. To the left of the main hall is an open water feature, from which the aroma of freshly ground coffee wafts. On the right is the living room, where a giant, vibrant monstera plant thrives in the corner, adding life to the room. Further inside, there's a small, pristine glass tea room, perfect for two. The space beneath the wooden staircase has been cleverly utilized as a calligraphy room, adding a touch of artistic flair. The overall layout is compact, well-designed, refined, and stylish, reflecting the owner's meticulous attention to detail.
The guesthouse has two floors with about ten rooms. We stayed in Jing Xuan, located at the end of the second floor. A large floor-to-ceiling window spans the entire wall, offering views of the courtyard, village houses, and the misty mountains in the distance. The room is bright, spacious, and airy. When the wind blows, vines occasionally stray in, requiring gentle removal. The room features a wooden ceiling, bed, cabinets, doors, and even the lights are knotted rope lamps hanging from the wooden beams. The vase holds purple daisies and white bellflowers, a gift from the owner, creating a simple yet beautiful ambiance.
Two American Shorthair cats also reside in the courtyard. Tang Guo, with his amber eyes, is the welcoming cat, strolling around and nudging against anyone he meets, even blinking when called by name. Li Qiu, the sleepy one, prefers to stay indoors, only rolling over when someone tries to play.
A typhoon day is perfect for curling up in the study, sipping iced coffee while overlooking the rising waters of Shenlongtan, and immersing myself in the works of Yu Hua, Zhou Guoping, and Huo Da. It's a time for chatting with fellow travelers in the tea room about the weather, books, and Buddhism. It's a time for enjoying a slice of chilled watermelon offered by the manager under the shade of the osmanthus trees, petting Tang Guo, and feeling the cool breeze from the river. Or simply napping the afternoon away, lulled by the sound of water, without even a dream.