Solo Traveling the World: The Sun Like Blood and Chilly Yishui Water
Prologue: It's May Day. News says scenic spots are crowded; in our community, parking spots are empty, my heart itches, but we promised to visit my bedridden mother-in-law. My surging pulse had to be suppressed by reason!
Ring, ring, ring—a sharp ringtone pulled me from my dreams. Groggily, I grabbed the phone. It was my child's aunt, telling us not to come today. I sat dazed for a minute, then bounced out of bed and shouted, "Honey, get up! Let's go traveling!" — It was 6:30 AM on May 2, 2019.
01. Traffic Jams Are Also a Scenic View
After confirming, my calm wife got excited too. "Let's go join the crowds!" Half an hour later, our car rushed out of the community. "Where to?" my wife asked. "How about Yishui Lake?" I explained with the number 1-2-3. She pretended to think for a moment, then approved!
I chuckled inwardly. Leaders always know this trick—pretend to understand even if they don't! Me? I just don't let the leader worry and be a good driver!
During holidays, the crowds were immense. Others felt miserable; we enjoyed it—enjoying the bustling excitement, enjoying the diversity of life. Fifteen years ago, a professor said, "What would happen if every family in China had a car?" His tone implied that the world's oil would be drained and cities paralyzed. Unwittingly, it has become reality. The world hasn't perished because of China; instead, Chinese tourists have brought frenzy to the tourism industry.
Family cars on the Jin-Bao Expressway chased and weaved like horses galloping on the prairie. With the same mood but different driving skills, scenes of joy and sorrow inevitably appeared. Along the way, rear-end collisions and scratches kept happening, followed by long waits in traffic jams. For an experienced driver like me, seasoned by storms, this was routine—watching ahead, guarding behind, and not missing the tragic sight of accident scenes. Haha, how would a rookie know the dangers of the world? Paying tuition is normal!
Drivers gathered to smoke and chat. As soon as the front moved, they quickly scattered, started, and rushed. Going stop-and-go for short distances, the highway turned into a parking lot. Back then, some took advantage of the emergency lane; now there are enforcement cameras. Disagree? Points deducted and fines—let you feel the majesty of a law-based society. I spotted an exit and left, taking provincial roads through villages and towns. What's there to fear? With navigation guidance, I could also enjoy the rural scenery.
02. Having a Meal at Fenghuangtai Village
After a morning of traffic jams and bumps, my stomach was growling. I decided to go to Fenghuangtai Village first to see what the Manchu-Han Imperial Feast looked like. I had seen it on TV once—in the Taihang Mountains, at the foot of the Great Wall, Fenghuangtai Village is famous for the culinary skills of a former imperial chef. Drawn by its reputation, I hoped to gain something.
The decorated village had green brick walls and white walls, bright green poplar trees, and red lanterns lining the streets. The roadside was already jammed with cars. From west to east, from north to south, every house was a farm stay with accommodation and restaurants.
I wondered if the old imperial chef was still around. Which restaurant was more authentic? People said they were all similar, so I chose a bigger one at the crossroads. Ingredients were piled on the floor, and the tables and chairs were greasy—a bit scary. It was already past 1 PM, and my intestines were rumbling. There were still many diners, so I quickly ordered.
Under the landlady's guidance, I ordered their recommendations: braised pork belly, old braised fish, steamed deer tendon, and a platter of sausage and tripe, plus spinach with bean sprouts. What is hunger-driven choice? After a wolfish devouring, I finally took time to distinguish the flavors. The old braised fish and spinach with bean sprouts were fragrant and refreshing, but the steamed deer tendon, my first time, was tasteless. Was it because my palate wasn't accustomed, or was it the dirty environment? To be honest, I never want to taste it again.
Fine cuisine requires meticulous preparation. I don't doubt the imperial chef's skills, but when the mind is focused on making money, when exquisite culinary techniques turn into mass-produced rough products, the essence of cuisine is lost!
The mixture I ate churned in my stomach, and sleepiness crept up. It was past 2 PM. The Yishui Lake was still 15 kilometers away. Navigation showed continued congestion. I had to endure and continue.
03. Waiting in Line at the Dock for a Ferry
What is "every step is difficult"? 15 kilometers took an hour and a half. Finally, we arrived at Yishui Lake Pier. This is a national 4A-level scenic area. It connects to the "Juma River Surging Waves" upstream and the "Chilly Yishui" downstream, with "Mount Lang's Elegance" to the south and "Cloud-Meng Verdant Scenery" to the north. In the distance, the mountains were majestic and steep, forests lush. The lake was clear and blue, stretching endlessly, with sightseeing boats going back and forth, gentle ripples—a splendid landscape!
I brushed off the dust, felt invigorated, and couldn't wait to immerse myself in this painting. But ahead was another long queue. Upon asking, "Tickets are easy to buy, but boarding a boat is hard." They also said that the "Little Guilin" on the opposite shore would clear out at 6 PM. It seemed it would take more than an hour just to board. Maybe by the time we got there, we couldn't even enter the scenic area. Should we wait or go back?
My wife, already complaining from the bumpy ride, became furious when she heard this. "Under the scorching sun, we might not even get in! Isn't this just pointless? Let's go home!" How could I bear to leave like this? I hesitated, then advised her, "We came all this way to see a dog fight—at least we should find out if it's a black dog or a yellow dog! Otherwise, the day will be wasted. Let me queue; you go find some shade." My wife snorted, "You never give up until you hit the wall..." and reluctantly moved away.
"Haha, say what you want, as long as you don't leave." I looked around the line. Wow, no end in sight. A burly security guard was scanning the long line with a contemptuous look. I struck up a conversation: "Brother, what fun is there inside?" The burly guy looked me up and down and whispered, "There's a hillside to climb, then you walk back on the plank road, that's it. You're all too rich. Is it worth 80 yuan? Really..." I guessed he wanted to say "pointless."
"I want to see 'The wind blows bleakly and the water of Yi is cold,'" a boy of about ten said, looking up at us. Curiously, I asked, "Do you know Jing Ke?" The grandmother next to him said, "We're from Taiyuan. My grandson insisted on seeing Yishui Lake, saying Jing Ke set out from here!" I clicked my tongue and said to the guard, "Look at this child..." In my heart, I thought, "Unlike you, a fat pig who only eats meat and drinks wine, uncultured!"
04. Taking a Boat and Climbing the Mountain, Viewing Far and Near
At 17:20, we finally boarded the passenger boat. With a long whistle, it sailed toward the opposite shore. The sun was setting in the west, golden light spilling over the mountains, forests, and lake. The mountains became more solemn, the forests more serene, and the lake glittered with golden light. A cool breeze refreshed me. The waves churned by the boat were like festive fireworks, rising and falling, decorating the green mountains and blue waters in changing forms!
We docked. Yishui Lake is embraced by mountains, with no soil touching the shore, the water clear and noble. In the distance, the "Little Guilin" had sheer cliffs, hard arms, and a straight spine, proudly facing the lake waves, enduring wind and sun with dignity. On the cliff, a winding plank road, like a yellow ribbon, adorned the majesty of the mountain and the charm of the water. Leaves rustled from crevices, and at the foot of the cliff, water and rocks celebrated joyfully. The scenery had both the beauty of Guilin's mountains and rivers and the grandeur of the Three Gorges!
Following the crowd ashore, we climbed to a platform halfway up the mountain, where half the lake could be seen. My wife didn't want to climb the steep steps to the top and offered to wait here. I also avoided the heights and headed toward the yellow ribbon-like plank road. The boatload of tourists swarmed up the mountain; going against the flow, I enjoyed this peaceful solitude for contemplation.
The sun was setting on the treetops of the mountain top. The dark red afterglow spread over the mirror-like lake. From above, the boats on the lake seemed so tiny, and the colorful crowd on the dock was visible but their noise couldn't be heard. Beside me, fresh green twigs swayed gently. My hair was brushed by the evening breeze, and a chill came over me. Suddenly, I recalled the phrase "the wind blows bleakly." I stared at the lake. What kind of tragic heroism of Jing Ke was hidden in the thousand-foot depths of this lake?
05. Historical Echoes: The Chilly Water of Yi
Imagine back then, in the silence, a sound seemed to echo from the dark bottom—a group of white robes dancing in the blood-red sunset, Jing Ke's stirring song filling the valley. "The wind blows bleakly and the water of Yi is cold; the brave man leaves and never returns—"
Gao Jianli's fervent zhu music, like a war drum, inspired Jing Ke. Amid the tragic chorus of Prince Dan and the mourners, Jing Ke couldn't help singing repeatedly. Where it was mournful and desolate, it was like chanting endless suffering; Prince Dan and the ministers all wept. Where it was passionate and heroic, it was as if warriors fought in battle; all the mourners glared with wide eyes, their hair standing on end under their white caps...
Jing Ke also gazed at the setting sun. He saw: burdened by Qin's power struggles, a baby was born in a cave in Fengjing. Because there was an old broken chariot in the cave, his desperate mother named him Jing Ke. Later, after many hardships, he mastered martial arts and became learned.
He saw: his grandfather Jing Nan, who loyally protected Shang Yang's reforms, how he became disheartened, sorrowful and angry with tears after Shang Yang was torn apart by chariots.
He saw: his father Jing Yun, who led a hundred death-defying soldiers to follow Lü Buwei, how they sacrificed themselves to escort the Qin prince back to his country, ensuring the succession of the great Qin empire and fulfilling Lü Buwei's ambition of using commerce to influence politics. And his father's expression of righteousness and generosity as he fell in a pool of blood.
This complex Qin state—his ancestors sacrificed for it, yet were full of resentment. Now the powerful Qin could best fulfill his ambitions, but how could historical origins allow him to let go? After years of wandering, he finally met Prince Dan of Yan. The genes inherited from his father's blood—"help the weak, defeat the strong; a true man dies for his confidant"—would eventually evolve into this historically famous assassination attempt on the King of Qin.
Logically, Qin's unification of the world was progress overthrowing decadence, the will of the people, the inevitable wheel of history. It is said that those who understand the times are wise; how could those who hinder historical development be called heroes? If he had succeeded, history would be rewritten, social civilization would regress. Wouldn't he be a sinner of the nation?
Yet we need a kind of person—a national spine that defies tyranny and refuses to bend, the chivalrous spirit of a man dying for his confidant! This, perhaps, is why Jing Ke is still revered by later generations!
As the song still echoed, Jing Ke turned around and boarded the chariot. With a stomp, the light carriage clattered away. The sounds of weeping and wind lingered in his ears. Jing Ke never looked back.
His ancestors dedicated themselves to the rise of Qin, yet he poured out his blood to overthrow Qin! The trace of confusion in his heart had long melted away by the expectations of Yan's monarch and ministers. With no turning back, why leave any attachment?
Later generations have a poem: "Here he bid farewell to Prince Dan, / The brave man's hair bristled with rage. / The heroes of old are gone, / But the water today remains cold."
06. Sunset Holy Land: My Opinion
The melancholy sunset caressed the blood-red lake surface. Standing there, looking back at those distant years, how could one not feel blood boiling and thoughts swirling? When people chant, "How many events of past and present are left to the laughter of time," when happy families enjoy the mountains and waters, how many still remember him? But the mountains and rivers will not forget—hence the name "Chilly Yi River"; history will not forget—hence the spirit of resistance nurtured in the Chinese nation. Sorrowful, Jing Ke! Magnificent, Jing Ke!
Lost in my wild thoughts, I collided head-on with tourists returning from the mountain. The bustling crowd urged us to hurry back to the boat, discussing how they would feast and celebrate. Everything quieted down again. I returned in silence. The red sun set, only lingering twilight remained, soon darkness would fall. A cool breeze by the shore, the red flag on the boat fluttering. I took my wife's hand and quickly boarded. It was 18:50.
Disembarking, we got back in the car. The drive back would be long.
In the nearby village, rows of open-air cauldrons were simmering with red flames, steam rising, aromas wafting;
At roadside tables, diners sat around, clinking glasses, lively and bustling;
If we weren't worried about our daughter alone at home, we would have stayed to enjoy the lights and the joy of this prosperous era!
Today's holiday travel brought traffic jams, unpalatable food, and a late arrival at the scenic spot;
But I saw the sunset over Yishui—a long-awaited landscape, a rare moment:
The setting sun and bleak wind conjured the blood-red sunset and chilly Yishui; I admired Jing Ke's defiance of tyranny and his chivalrous spirit;
I enjoyed this peaceful era and cherished this prosperous and peaceful nation.
This land of Yi County has both history and scenery: the grandeur of the Western Qing Tombs, and the legacy of Guo Fengxiao;
the beauty of Baishi Mountain, and the red classics of Langya Mountain;
the swiftness of the Juma River, and the wonder and darkness of Yeshanpo's Hundred Mile Gorge;
The mighty Taihang Mountains, endlessly beautiful, with splendid natural resources and divine witness!
By the time we got home, it was midnight. After all that excitement, I was exhausted. Thinking carefully, wasn't this paying money to suffer? Sigh, I'm seriously ill! I hope after a good night's sleep, I'll get better!
Author: Solo Traveling the World. A non-mainstream person born after 1965, loving travel, poetry, and fine food. Standing here, it's like the colorful deep autumn leaves are red, lamenting: after frost and snow, everything is empty! I only wish: before I grow old, to travel all the green mountains; with a passionate heart, to laugh at the ruthless years!
