Xiamen Fragments: Carving a ray of light into ordinary life
#Xiamen As the plane touched down at Gaoqi Airport, the early summer sunlight danced in the windows, as if foreshadowing this trip would be a gentle derailment from the usual routine.
On my first visit to Gulangyu Island, I felt like an intruder, navigating the maze of streets and alleys. The silhouette of Sunlight Rock loomed in the distance, but I wasn't eager to climb it. Instead, I was drawn to the time-worn villas. The walls of the old villas were etched with age and weather, leaving them mottled and stained. Rust clung to the iron gates like tears of blood. Yet, atop them, clumps of bougainvillea blossomed with blazing clumps. The fiery red cascades cascaded down recklessly, stubbornly displaying the undertones of life. I reached a courtyard gate half-obscured by vines. The three characters "Spend Time" on the doorplate were blurred. Inside, no one was there, save for an old piano, which stood silently. A chance breeze plucked a string that hadn't loosened, emitting a faint yet profound sigh—this solitude-themed sound seemed to more vividly echo the centuries-old heartbeat of this island.
The next morning, I headed straight for Nanputuo Temple. The morning light was dim, and the temple was still sparsely lit, creating a rare tranquility. The ancient temple's eaves cast a tranquil silhouette in the morning light, and the air was filled with the scent of sandalwood and green grass. The sweetness of the vegetarian cake melted on my tongue, like a sudden realization: abstaining from desires need not be ascetic; it can also be this simple, tender sweetness. In a vegetarian restaurant, a simple bowl of noodles, the broth clear and the noodles chewy, the pure flavor cleansing the soul—it turns out that our weary souls often only need a bowl of clear noodle soup like this to soothe them.
For the next few days, I indulged myself in the vibrant flavors of Xiamen. The thick soup at Sili Shacha Noodle House arrived, a glossy orange-red, a thin layer of oil floating on the surface. The rich, mellow broth enveloped the deliciousness of the seafood, and each noodle was imbued with the rich aroma of peanut butter. The richness exploded on my tongue the moment I sipped it. Then, in the Eighth Market, I encountered earthworm jelly, its transparent gelatinous substance dotted with starfish. I mustered up the courage to take a bite. The jelly bounced between my teeth, the seaworms were tender and slightly crisp, and paired with the hot and sour sauce, it was a surprisingly harmonious and refreshing combination. Seeing my curiosity, the woman selling earthworm jelly smiled and handed me a small bag of candied bayberries. The sweet and sour juice instantly filled my mouth, and wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes, as if to say: The adventure of the tongue is also the sweetness of life.
On my last day, I boarded a sailboat in Wuyuan Bay. The wind filled the sails, and the hull tilted suddenly. The waves hit my cheeks like broken jade, with a salty and cool taste. The bow split the blue waves, plowing a wide path behind us, as if we were cutting through the endless silk of the sea. In the distance, the shadows of the Big and Small Kinmen Islands floated between the sea and the sky, like a timeless dream. In this place and at this moment, only the sound of wind and waves echoed in my ears, blowing away all the worries that lingered in the world.
The return plane began to taxi. Outside the window, a sea of clouds rolled. The city left behind gradually condensed into a tiny, luminous shell between the sea and the sky. I suddenly had a thought: Isn't travel nothing more than carving a crack in the iron wall of ordinary life? The light that filters through this crack may not illuminate all the darkness, but it's enough to let us see—that beyond every inch of ground we step on, there exists a distinct breath and pulse, enough to sustain us as we continue on our mundane journey.
Every journey is a small victory over the ordinary, a ray of light that the soul carves out for itself day by day.