Memories of Yunnan – A Silent Autumn Tale (Lijiang + Lugu Lake + Shuanglang + Tengchong Ginkgo Village + Heshun)

Autumn in the south always comes and goes in a hurry, like a dream you barely have time to savor. The streets remain green, the waltz of falling leaves has yet to begin, yet the air is already laced with a chill. And so, I thought of Yunnan – where the blue sky feels within reach, where clouds pile layer upon layer, and where warm sunshine graces every season. There is an old tree there, its roots twisted and gnarled, and on the flower bed sits an elderly Naxi man, his expression as serene as if in meditation. The marks of time have softened into a silent tenderness upon them.

This time, I decided to let myself drift aground in Yunnan's autumn.

Companionship: The Longest Confession of Love

My travel companion this time was still "Red Hair" – a close friend I had met through Mafengwo, a travel community, and bonded with over a year and a half. We shared endlessly, day and night, the joys of travel and the trivialities of life. More often than not, deciding where to go wasn't a carefully plotted plan but a sudden spark during one of our conversations. Spring in Jiangnan in April, summer in Qinghai in July, autumn in Tengchong in November, and then winter at Jiuzhaigou at year's end... Without even realizing it, we had almost completed a full cycle of seasons together.

Autumn is my favorite season. After witnessing the majestic gold of the poplar forests last year, that dazzling brilliance remains the most lingering color in my heart. When Yuanyuan was pondering where to go for autumn leaves, I mentioned Tengchong's Ginkgo Village. It lacks the boldness of desert poplars, but it holds a poetic charm of curling chimney smoke and fallen leaves blanketing the ground. Though Yuanyuan had set foot in Yunnan many times, she had never truly experienced the "ground covered in golden armor" atmosphere. The mere mention of "Ginkgo Village" sparked all sorts of beautiful imaginations in her, and after seeing those golden photos, she was utterly captivated. In her words: "Love at first mention, head over heels at first sight."

Just as we were about to grab a weekend and dash to Tengchong, Yuanyuan was invited by a guesthouse in Shuhe to do some promotional work. A gift from the heavens – how could we refuse? So we added another weekend, and I decided to stay an extra week in Yunnan, sacrificing myself to keep her company.

First Impressions of Shuhe: Warmth in Tranquility

By the time we arrived in Shuhe, night had fallen. The temperature difference between day and night in Yunnan is significant, and shivering in the cold, Yuanyuan and I followed the guesthouse staff to Wang's Courtyard. The inn wasn't inside the ancient town, about a ten-minute walk away. It was small but had everything we needed, so quiet that you felt reluctant to disturb it. There was no noise from backpackers, no barbecue parties – only silent moonlight and the fragrance of clear tea to accompany you to sleep. Beside the rocking chair in the courtyard, a lazy husky lay with half-closed eyes, ignoring our arrival entirely. It must have relished this comfort, staying in its corner from dusk till dawn.

The walls of the guesthouse were covered with life reflections. The phrase by our door read: "If only life were as it first met, why would autumn wind turn a fan into sorrow?" It was a helpless reminder. The world is always changing; the only thing we can hold onto is what remains unchanged in our hearts – like our original intentions. So many people come and go in life; some conversations fade away, some feelings grow distant. What we can firmly grasp is only our own inner selves.

After dropping our luggage, starving, we headed straight to Shuhe Ancient Town for food. At an unremarkable but popular little eatery called "Simple Meals," we ordered two dishes and a soup. The presentation was average, and the portions were small, but the taste was surprisingly delightful. Determined not to waste food, we ate like crazy but still couldn't finish half of it. The next day, I went back specially to take a photo – good things must be shared.

Shuhe's nights lack the wildness of Dayan, nor are they too deserted. There's more of an artistic atmosphere and cultural vibe. The music square in the ancient town holds concerts every night. We missed Tan Weiwei but encountered many unsung singers who use music to express life. They were natural, simple, and unrestrained. People stopped by kindly to watch, applaud, and cheer. Perhaps not everyone could understand their hearts, but a glance of affirmation might be enough.

Lijiang: Soft Time Under the Sun

When I woke up, the sun was blazing – that long-lost Yunnan sunshine. Yuanyuan and I each grabbed a camera and officially began our Lijiang trip. I used my Canon 6D with a fixed 50mm f/1.4 lens, while Yuanyuan carried her "Red Mom's" Nikon D700 – one wide-angle lens, one zoom lens. She complained about the weight; holding it too long made her arm ache, but to not let down the sponsor, she gritted her teeth and pressed on. As two photography amateurs, we aimed at the sun and clicked away, treating the cameras like they were indestructible. The shots from Red Mom's fancy camera came out with a sky so blue it hurt the eyes. I had to do some serious Photoshop work later to tone it down.

We took turns shooting each other in a patch of wild grass. Yuanyuan's fixed lens captured me with great artistic flair, while my wide-angle turned her into a distorted figure – I won't post that one to scare anyone.

Over the years, ancient towns have been commercialized one after another, but Shuhe has preserved a different kind of stillness and simplicity. Sitting down anywhere to read, chat, or just daydream is a form of contentment. When we grow tired of chasing some goal, why not slow down and let our breathless souls catch up? Ask it: what is it that we truly desire deep down?

There weren't many people on Shuhe's streets. The sky was pure blue, the clouds as white as washed linen. The Naxi households here quietly adhere to an ancient simplicity and calm. Every guesthouse feels like home, rich in cultural atmosphere. People from all over the country have settled here, showcasing their skills to visitors, choosing the simplest way to live a life of peace and distance.

The ancient town was full of lazy dogs, basking shamelessly in the sun, long accustomed to tourists of all skin colors and languages. As soon as you say "hello," they'd run over and wag their tails. (The Chinese rural dog in the upper right corner was Yuanyuan's favorite breed, because she thought they looked most like dogs – "yellow face, black eyes..." Ready, sing!)

After lunch at Shuhe with a dry pot dish, we headed to Dayan Ancient Town. That meal was both expensive and terrible – I was already looking forward to the evening at Tuojiang Fish House. Shuhe is very close to Dayan; a minibus outside the gate costs just 5 yuan per person.

Dayan Ancient Town: Where Memory and Reality Intersect

After wandering aimlessly for a day, we found a cozy little café in the ancient town and sat down. Dining here isn't cheap – each meal runs 120 to 200 yuan, and a drink costs at least 30-something. Such an afternoon was wonderful: listening to music, chatting idly, with occasional silences that felt meaningful.

From downstairs came Zhang Jie's "Disappear," reminding me of so many friends who had come and gone from my life. I don't know how to hold onto you; more often, I prefer to enjoy solitude. But I fear your departure, fear turning around and not seeing you. I know that when I'm helpless, you'll still extend warm hands. The warmth and love you've given me – in the moment sunlight streamed through the window onto my face, I seemed to feel something.

No one was upstairs, so we let loose – acting cute, striking cool poses, making silly faces. Yuanyuan asked me to photograph her with a look as pitiful and sorrowful as a dog's. Finally, I had to end the day with a stunning photo – don't doubt it, you're not mistaken: a superstar! A tribute to the late Michael Jackson.

Wicker chairs, wooden tables, fresh flowers. Small bridges, flowing water, homes. Missing the long-departed, with nowhere to send my longing. My heart, strand by strand, grows tender. Memories are tucked away in some corner; cut a slice of sunlight, stir it into a cup of coffee – this is Lijiang's softest time.

Lijiang – a place countless people say you must visit in your lifetime. Everyone carries their own secrets, encountering this city of romance. Many come, linger with satisfaction, even stay to settle down; others leave disappointed. But in my eyes, it always evokes memories of the old town from my childhood. Years from now, I'll still come here to touch the traces time has left.

The first time I came to Lijiang, every street played Kan Kan's "Tick Tock." This time, the song on repeat was Li Qian's "A Moment." "In this very moment, I realize you're right by my side. In this very moment, I realize I've lost your face..." Time flows like the clear streams through the ancient town – you hardly notice what it has taken away. Only when you try to meet your former self do you find you can no longer retrieve those old feelings.

A friend sent a greeting message – being remembered is a kind of happiness. If hearts want to connect, distance means nothing. My dear ones, the sun is shining warmly right here, right into my heart.

Lijiang at Night: The Calm of an Observer

Friends who knew I was in Lijiang urged me to have a romantic encounter. I smiled without answering. Those ambiguous feelings in the neon-lit bars are just play-acting. Dazzling beams, flirtatious smoke – they seduce not only your eyes but also your heart. What does it matter if you talk late into the night or whisper in each other's ears? When morning comes, who remembers the warmth of the other's palm? Here, I'm just a speck of dust drifting with the wind, occasionally falling into someone's eyes, then becoming strangers again. So even in this city of romance, I chose to be a calm observer, watching others' romantic moments, listening to their joys and sorrows.

While organizing photos, I realized I had taken another picture of Sakura House. Compared to the noisy night, I prefer its simple, clean, dust-free morning look. When tired from walking, I'd casually nap on a wooden table, letting the world's troubles be none of my concern. (And thanks to my friend Cui for treating me the night before – thanks for the booth, thanks for the Carlsberg.)

Long stone steps, swaying shadows; mottled walls, half-covered in plain makeup. Who watches the water sleeves dance on the stage? The town's past fades yellow in memory.

Since I had already visited other Lijiang attractions last time, this trip I just wandered freely in the ancient town. Yuanyuan stayed for two days and then rushed back to work, leaving me alone. Luckily, I met Cui and Ting, who accompanied me with laughter and joy. A reminder: Yunnan's climate is extremely dry, especially during the dry season. My lips became dry, red, and swollen like a pig's snout – a blazing pig lip. Don't be lazy; remember to moisturize and hydrate.

Only at night can you truly experience the ancient town's alluring side – neon lights flicker, music and dance fill the air. I unintentionally walked to a place I'd been before, the only difference being night versus day. I took this photo because I spotted Nina Dobrev on the far right – my goddess... Elena.

Whenever I see cats, I can't help but act silly. The highlight was that tabby cat, turning its head to look back. The ancient town is filled with a dazzling array of handicrafts. Choosing stalls on quieter side streets can save you money. I made a wish for my family – peace, health, and long blessings. For my friends – may all their wishes come true and joy be theirs. For myself – may I find someone to love, to grow old with, never to part.

Ting, such a good girl. I won't crowd you. Late at night, when no one was around, I took a photo of the big waterwheel – a tourist snapshot. My last photo in Lijiang: me and a llama. Countless people had taken photos with it, and it remained calm. But when I approached, it immediately acted like it was in heat, rubbing against me, making the onlookers burst into laughter. Was it trying to kiss me? Dude, even though I'm single, I'm not that desperate.

Accommodation in Lijiang: Zhenmei Chain Guesthouse – Shaofu Branch

During my two days in Dayan Ancient Town, I stayed at Zhenmei Chain Guesthouse's Shaofu branch. They have seven branches in Dayan, ranging from budget to mid-to-high-end options. Shaofu is the standout among the scenic-view guesthouses. While typical guesthouses cost around a million yuan to build, Shaofu Scenic Courtyard was built with tens of millions, making it the ancient town's first luxury viewing courtyard. It consists of seven courtyards, arranged in a staggered, layered layout with hidden surprises. Designed by renowned foreign architects in collaboration with Sichuan Fine Arts Institute over three years, each room is uniquely crafted.

Both Kaiyang and Shaofu scenic guesthouses offer two special-rate rooms daily at 350 yuan per night. The staff are very welcoming – they'll meet you at the ancient town entrance and help with luggage. Upon arrival, they offer you snacks and drinks. There's a tea room and a lounge where you can enjoy complimentary tea. Through the hall, you can take the right-side corridor up to the viewing terrace. While the ancient town has paid viewing towers where a drink costs a fortune, having a spot to enjoy tea and the view for free is much more economical.

Lijiang Cuisine: Flavors Not to Be Missed

The ancient town has plenty of snacks, but when it comes to fish, I recommend Tuojiang Fish House outside the town. It's located on Huama Street, and a taxi from the ancient town costs under 10 yuan. Rainbow trout – in Yunnan, everyone calls it salmon. The Jade Dragon Snow Mountain's year-round clear springs, with pristine, icy-cold water, provide the perfect natural breeding ground for rainbow trout, making it relatively cheap at 38 yuan per jin (half a kilogram). There's also premium golden trout, which costs much more – but we're not rich enough to afford the gold. The salmon is served in a "one fish, three ways" style: the head and bones go into a hotpot, the meat is eaten raw (sliced into five plates, though you can also cook it), and the skin is deep-fried. The fish is incredibly fresh and delicious – even Yuanyuan, who usually doesn't like fish, praised it highly.

Yunnan Cross-Bridge Rice Noodles: Legend has it that in Mengzi County, Yunnan, there was a beautiful lake called Nanhu, often visited by scholars. A young scholar named Yang would study at a pavilion in the middle of the lake. His wife would bring him meals every day. But he was so absorbed in his studies that he often let his food go cold, and his health began to suffer. Worried, his wife killed a hen, stewed it in an earthenware pot, and brought it to him. When she returned to collect the dishes, she found the food untouched – her husband was still lost in his books. She took the pot back to reheat it, only to find it still warm – the layer of chicken fat on the surface had sealed in the heat. From then on, she used this method to keep the food warm, and would blanch rice noodles, vegetables, and sliced meat in the hot chicken broth. Since the scholar had to cross a small bridge on his way from home to the pavilion, he called this dish "Cross-Bridge Rice Noodles." Thanks to his wife's care, he passed the imperial exams, and the story became legendary, making Cross-Bridge Rice Noodles a famous Yunnan dish. As someone from Chongqing with a taste for bold flavors, I found the rice noodles just okay, but the steam pot chicken was truly delicious.

The Enchanting Lugu Lake: That Intoxicating Blue

Seagulls quietly approach the boat's side, whispering softly with the sound of oars. Ginkgo trees tinge the misty waves with yellow, wrapping the embankment in autumn hues. The pig-trough boat sways gently; the Amei girl sings love songs at the bow. The breeze is light, the falling petals soft – like a poem, like a painting, like a heartfelt confession.

Going to Lugu Lake was a last-minute decision. Yuanyuan had to leave for three days in the middle of the trip, and I was torn between Shangri-La and Lugu Lake. I read countless travelogues – each praised its own destination. Then Xishuangbanna entered the picture, and later I thought about just staying in Lijiang, riding horses at Lashi Lake, or watching "Impression Lijiang" at Jade Dragon Snow Mountain... The closer the departure date, the more indecisive I became. (This Libra tendency to waver is deeply ingrained in my bones.) In the end, Yuanyuan and I talked it over and concluded: take it one step at a time, decide when we get there.

On the day Yuanyuan left, we wandered around the ancient town and saw China Travel Service everywhere, offering two-day tours to both Shangri-La and Lugu Lake. We asked if anyone was looking to carpool, but the answer was pitifully few. Renting a private car was too expensive – at least 700 yuan per day, not including tickets or meals, and I wasn't rich enough to be generous. Just as I was negotiating with the travel agency, I suddenly heard Yuanyuan shouting joyfully behind me: "Hurry up, dear, I found you a companion – they're going to Lugu Lake!" That person was Cui, whom I mentioned earlier. He had come to Lijiang with his childhood sweetheart, but alas, the sweetheart had withered and the bamboo horse had aged – he wanted to go to Lugu Lake, while she chose Shangri-La, abandoning him. So we grabbed him like a lifeline, didn't even haggle, and immediately sealed the deal with the travel agency at 500 yuan per person, afraid that a moment's hesitation would leave me alone again.

With the itinerary finally set, I also booked accommodation for the last day in Shuanglang. After returning to the guesthouse for a short rest, I watched Yuanyuan leave the ancient town. Staring at her retreating figure, I sang in my heart: "Come back quickly – I can't bear this alone..."

That evening, Cui and his childhood sweetheart invited me to dinner and then to a bar. (Don't get me wrong – their relationship was like touching their own left hand with their right – no feelings at all.) The first time I came to Lijiang, I went to One Meter Sunshine; this time, fate led me to Sakura House. Both experiences were unpleasant. Perhaps I'm getting old, but I didn't enjoy the host's lewd, flirty style. After about an hour, I went back to dreamland. During that time, a drunk chairman-type kept throwing money on stage, while his lackeys flattered and cheered, urging the host to chug bottles of alcohol. The host drank while sidling up to the boss, muttering, "Oh, Boss X, Boss X, let me light your cigarette... too bad the upper half has ideas, but the lower half can't follow through..." As if trying to disgust me to death. I just couldn't bear such blatant public flirting – especially between two men.

Lugu Lake: Finally Seeing That Blue

At a little past 6 in the morning, we gathered at the north gate parking lot. All the vehicles heading to Lugu Lake and Shangri-La were assembled there. One look around, and it was all young people with cameras and snacks – it felt like a childhood spring outing, both exciting and worrisome. Worried about what? The weather, of course. I had traveled to many places this year and suffered from bad weather enough times to know that good weather is just as important as a good travel companion, especially when visiting a lake.

Speaking of lakes – that's a tale of tears and heartache. Qinghai Lake, Namtso, Yamdrok Lake – those sacred lakes were, for me, a big mistake. Train, plane, crossing mountains, clinging to an oxygen tank like my life depended on it, only to find the water a dull blue-green, no better than the Shuanglong Lake near my home. And just when the clouds parted and the sun finally came out, the guide would rush us back to the bus. That's the tragedy of group tours! I swore after that trip: domestically, at least where communication isn't an issue, I would never join a group tour again! But less than six months later, here I was, in a group again, and for a lake, no less. Sometimes, human resolve is just that unreliable. Blame my soft ears and thin wallet – I couldn't resist the sweet talk of those two travel agency guys, and I caved in no time. It's like this: if I hate someone, and that person suddenly says they like me, then I can't hate them anymore – because I can't hate someone with good taste! So here I was, repeating the same mistake. How could I not worry? Heaven's punishment can be avoided, but self-inflicted suffering is unforgivable. I could only pray for the best.

Not long into the drive, we stopped at a scenic spot – the Jinsha River. The magnificent Cui – he asked me to call him Lin Feng. Lin Feng, standing tall but not exactly graceful. I love backlighting.

Along the way, the sun grew harsher. Since the car windows weren't tinted, my fellow travelers were struggling. But I was secretly delighted: come on, come on, let the sun blaze harder – I'd rather be sunburned than sick to my stomach! Sunshine, sunshine – so happy, so happy!

When I woke up, there it was – that patch of blue. Lugu Lake did not disappoint. My mood soared.

Lugu Lake, anciently called Luku Haizi, also known as Zuosuo Lake or Lianghai, lies between Yanyuan County in Liangshan Yi Autonomous Prefecture, Sichuan Province, and Ninglang Yi Autonomous County in Lijiang City, Yunnan Province. The lake sits at an elevation of about 2,690 meters, covering an area of approximately 48.5 square kilometers. Its waters are crystal clear with exceptional visibility, earning it the title "Pearl of the Plateau."

Conclusion: Yunnan, a Dream I Never Want to Wake From

My Yunnan journey – from Shuhe's tranquility to Lijiang's softness, from Lugu Lake's intoxicating blue to Tengchong's golden hues – each stop was like a painting, deeply etched into my memory. There is no city clamor here, only sunshine, white clouds, and that long-lost peace.

If you, too, are tired of the fast pace of urban life, come take a stroll in Yunnan. Daydream under Shuhe's sun, listen to an old song in a Lijiang café, feel the wind brush past your ears on a pig-trough boat on Lugu Lake. You'll discover that life can be so simple and beautiful.

Finally, a few practical tips: - Sun protection and hydration: Yunnan's UV rays are strong and the climate is dry. Be sure to bring sunscreen and lip balm. - Transportation: From Lijiang to Lugu Lake, it's best to carpool or join a tour group; renting a private car is expensive. Between Shuhe and Dayan Ancient Town, minibuses cost 5 yuan per person. - Accommodation: Zhenmei Chain Guesthouse's Shaofu branch is highly recommended, with special-rate rooms at 350 yuan per night and a free viewing terrace. - Food: Tuojiang Fish House's "one fish, three ways" salmon is a must-try, and don't miss the steam pot chicken.

Yunnan, I will come again. Because there, I found my favorite autumn.