Grass Flourishes, Orioles Sing; the Wispy Mist Cannot Be Cut - The Wind-Crafted Grace of Xinghua, Taizhou, Jiangsu
I once heard of Xinghua's rapeseed flowers and was captivated. It lies between the Yangtze and Huai Rivers, both near and far from Shanghai. Why not travel light to enjoy its beauty? In the past, I was always busy with little leisure, so I dared not travel. Unexpectedly, in the second month of the Bing Shen year (2016), I happened to have the chance. I hired a car for six hundred li, called friends, brought cameras, drinks, and snacks, and began the journey.
It was the second month of the year, the sun warming the duckweed green, and suddenly I saw the willow colors at the roadside. As the month neared its end, the spring equinox arrived, and red apricot blossoms vied for attention on the branches. As for the rapeseed flowers, they were just beginning to show their goose-yellow hues, some pale, some deep, dazzling and striking; some gentle, some charming, with abundant blossoms and fluttering butterflies—it was exactly the season.
Proud of being the cradle of Water Margin (by Shi Nai'an, 1296–1370) and the hometown of Zheng Banqiao (Zheng Xie, 1693–1766), Xinghua is an ancient and elegant place with deep cultural accumulation and profound learning. Situated in central Jiangsu and nestled between the Yangtze and Huai Rivers, it was once under the jurisdiction of Yangzhou and now belongs to Taizhou. Historically known as Chushui and also called Zhaoyang, it is an ancient county with a history of over two thousand years, thus having a long and continuous heritage. It is also a blessed land, nurturing outstanding talents and gathering luminaries, making it a place of abundant cultural richness.
Xinghua's rapeseed flowers are uniquely grown on raised fields in a water town, vastly different from the mountain terraces of others. This distinctive method has made them famous both at home and abroad. Truly a magnificent sight, "this melody should only exist in heaven," drawing crowds from all over to see the splendor of the rapeseed flowers.
The raised fields look like islets surrounded by rivers, countless in number, hence also called a thousand islets. The rapeseed flowers on these fields cover an area of over ten thousand mu, creating a scene unmatched anywhere else—all forming a painting: "The river has a thousand bends of clear water; every field is a yellow blossom."
These water-town raised fields are formed by earth taken from low-lying areas and piled up by human labor into high ground, creating island-like fields in the Lixiahe region. "They are arranged in a circle, scattered like stars and clouds," and their shapes are varied, floating lightly on the water. The paths between them are only accessible by boat. It is said that Yue Fei (1103–1142) used them as battle formations, donning armor and wielding weapons to defeat invading Jin soldiers.
Xinghua is embraced by the Lixiahe River, its land fertile as oil, a true land of fish and rice. Here, oars and paddles fill the view, and the sound of sculls fills the ears—whether for livelihood, transport, or sightseeing, it has always been so. On the water-town raised fields, the gentle creak of oars comes and goes. Sometimes a single boat glides peacefully, sometimes several boats drift in a line. At intersections, they nod politely to each other; at bends, they yield gracefully. Boat women occasionally sing folk songs in local dialect, their voices lingering.
It was a day of gentle breeze and warm sun, the river water clear and bright, "the lake surface calm like an unpolished mirror." Outside the scenic area, carriages and horses gathered in bustling activity. Upon entering, we hurried to the dock, hoping to leave the shore by boat and feast our eyes on the splendid sight. The boat woman, young and charming, "graceful and adept at talking and laughing," untied the boat from the shore, pushed the pole, and began to row, heading into the middle of the stream.
After moving a few dozen zhang, a boat emerged among the water fields, as if the Wuling fisherman had first entered the Peach Blossom Spring—our eyes wide with joy. The river lanes crisscrossed, crystal clear and flowing, startling a flock of egrets and gulls. Around us, the raised fields were bright yellow with rapeseed flowers; it was a vast and exhilarating sight!
The oars stirred ripples, lightly and slowly, as we drifted through the crisscrossing waterways. In the distance, on the opposite bank, vaguely visible, crowds of people enjoying the spring scenery wandered and played in the balmy breeze.
We docked near the shore and then meandered along the embankment, heading straight for the tower to overlook the vast expanse of rapeseed fields. It was near the Qingming Festival, the time when rapeseed flowers were in full bloom. The water-town raised fields were dyed in brilliant yellow, covering the sky and the earth. Among them, the flower clusters varied in depth and shade, each emitting its own natural beauty, complete in every way. A gentle breeze passed, and the flower fields undulated like waves, tender and affectionate. Butterflies flitted among the flowers, dancing lightly, sharing in the joy of spring. Indeed, there was no better scene of spring's harmony, light, and beauty.
At the tower, we lifted our clothes and climbed step by step to the top, eager to embrace the magnificent view. The tower was built in an antique style, four stories high, standing alone and imposing amidst the colorful sea of flowers. Ascending to the top, we could gaze into the distance, clearing our senses.
The higher we climbed, the more the scenery changed, tempting us to "go up another story" to see a thousand miles. As we climbed each level, the beauty unfolded, and looking around, our view expanded—we could take in all the splendor of the water-town raised fields and rapeseed flowers!
Looking down from above, we could see the fields stretching to the horizon. The plots of land were distinct, the rapeseed flowers golden, some pale, some deep, vivid in our eyes. Tourists streamed along the paths, bustling and noisy. The waterways were like a net, "the river water clear and rippling," with countless oars and shadows, like a string of pearls; leisurely sampans dotted the water like pieces on a chessboard.
Standing on this tower, the scene was serene and expansive, and I felt completely at one with nature. The mountains and rivers stretched vast, and human life flourished around. How could I not feel a surge of pride?
It was past four in the afternoon, time to return by car, but suddenly my enthusiasm was unstoppable. Nearby, the Li Zhong Water Forest Park was within sight, so we drove there.
Li Zhong Water Forest Park is a man-made wetland ecological forest located in the northwest corner of Xinghua city, near Gaoyou, a county under Yangzhou. It was first built in the early 1980s and covers a large area, with over a thousand mu of forest and nearly a thousand mu of water.
The park is famous for its forest islands and fish in the ditches. The forest is mainly planted with metasequoia trees, where egrets and wild ducks fly among the woods. The water system teems with river fish, with fat fish and large shrimp leaping in the water. This creates a unique water-town landscape: "rivers winding, metasequoia trees standing tall, with water and birds in the forest."
So we went there, unable to ignore the scene of "light boats welcoming guests, leisurely coming onto the lake." We yearned for it and headed straight to the dock, waiting for the returning boats.
The boats on the water were all bamboo rafts, with no sides, just small bamboo chairs scattered on them. The rafts were bound tightly with thin bamboo strips, sturdy and secure. The bottom of the raft had gaps, "crude and ugly in appearance," and the raft floated in the water. Water seeped onto the raft but did not submerge the soles of our shoes.
The bamboo raft moved slowly and steadily, drifting into the tall forest, through the ditches, under small bridges. "The boat lightly floats, the wind gently blows the clothes." We watched fish and shrimp playing, delighting our hearts; our ears were filled with the clear chirping of hundreds of birds, melodious and charming.
The forest was dense, shading the sun and hiding the sky, cool and secluded. The metasequoia trees were tall and slender, standing in a forest, cool and refreshing. The water was exceptionally clear and still, without ripples. The ditches were narrow, just wide enough for two rafts to pass. The small bridges were low, only allowing a single raft to pass under. The banks were not far from each other, so a clear and quiet atmosphere enveloped the area. Everything was within reach, like a fairy tale wonderland, making us reluctant to leave.
Rafting through the forest and water was truly "a tree full of flowers catching the eye." It was the highlight of the park and a must-see. Floating in spring or autumn felt like late winter or early winter had arrived, making one feel underdressed. Floating in the heat of summer felt like suddenly entering the depths of a green valley, refreshing and cool.
At dusk, "the setting sun only draws near the evening," and "tired birds return to the forest at dusk." Our excitement waned, and we knew it was time to return, but we lingered.
2022.05.05
