Life Philosophy of Going with the Flow and Getting Close to Nature — Revisiting Kunshan Lake Tourist Resort

I came across a video online that went something like this: a worker in Jiangsu or Zhejiang can earn three hundred yuan a day but is only willing to spend a few yuan on their own meals. Meanwhile, a person from Anhui can only earn thirty yuan a day but spends more than twenty yuan to treat themselves. The video's creator believes there is a big gap between people from Anhui and those from the Jiangsu-Zhejiang region. People from Jiangsu and Zhejiang have their own life goals and a broader vision; people from Anhui muddle along without life ambitions and have a narrow perspective.

I am from Jiangsu, and the place I live is surrounded by Anhui on three sides. From past interactions with some Anhui people, this phenomenon seems quite common. The video didn't mean to mock Anhui people intentionally, and even the Anhui people themselves don't deny this phenomenon exists. But if we set aside the notion of 'vision' and look at their different life philosophies and lifestyles, which one is more correct?

Because I live near Anhui and have classmates working there, I am very clear about the gap between the two regions. Yet when holidays come and I want to take a trip nearby, Anhui naturally becomes the first choice. Not only is it close, but the mountains, waters, and trees of Anhui leave a truly special impression. Several times I've thought that Anhui's future development is immeasurable. Why? Because it hasn't been 'developed' yet—it has a true 'original ecology' with limitless potential.

Look at other places: with the tide of economic development, the environment has been damaged, and ecology faces severe challenges. Now the country has recognized this problem and is trying to reverse course to govern and protect—how easy is that? Sure enough, in the past two years, Anhui has shown very strong momentum.

Anhui is a traditional agricultural province, a main grain-producing area in China, with a large population and abundant resources. Now it has achieved a leap from 'traditional agricultural province' to 'emerging industry gathering place', with rapid development in technology and industrial innovation. What's even more commendable is that while the economy is booming, resources and ecology have been simultaneously protected and utilized.

Buddhism says 'one reality, not two', meaning that all things in the world are originally one and equal, without distinction. People from Anhui and people from Jiangsu-Zhejiang are all children of China, living on the same land. Why should we make distinctions? People differ, and each place nurtures its own kind. Does difference in thought and lifestyle have to be ranked as superior or inferior, right or wrong? Moreover, nothing is set in stone. With effort, strength and weakness, brilliance and mediocrity, glory and obscurity can transform into each other.

Invited by a classmate, I revisited Kunshan Lake Resort in Xuancheng, Anhui. Strolling through it, I again felt this transformation and change. Today's focus was on the construction of Phase One of Kunshan Lake Ruyuan. The project has taken shape and has quite distinctive features.

The buildings are adjacent to each other, each an independent courtyard, maintaining the charm of Jiangnan's characteristic green bricks, black tiles, flying eaves, and bucket arches. On each side of the door stands a stone lion, light and unobtrusive. Pushing the door open, the gray marble floor tiles are luxurious yet understated; the decoration is refined yet simple and bright, with tradition seemingly blending with fashion.

Each house's biggest feature is a courtyard almost in a one-to-one ratio with the building's area—it can have flowers, grass, rockeries, flowing water; it can be connected or divided; you can look up at the sky and watch the clouds roll and unfold; you can admire flowers on horseback and see blossoms turn into beauty. Stepping into each courtyard, a scene appears in my mind: I am back in my childhood, running barefoot on a dusty dirt road, cicadas chattering noisily behind me, while our joyful laughter rings through the sky.

Just then, a light rain began to fall, instantly giving me the poetic feeling of 'distant mountains vague' and 'rain like mist'. 'I build my hut among the worldly bustle, yet there is no clamor of carriages and horses.' The entire resort was extremely quiet. Gazing at the deep mountains ahead, then looking at the lake before me, I suddenly felt like 'The mountain air is lovely day and night, and birds return together' as the ancients wrote. The ancients appreciated the poetic beauty of 'small bridges, flowing water, and homes'. Don't modern people also long for a poetic dwelling hidden among mountains and waters? The scent of nature is refreshing. Those of us who have lived in cities all our lives, especially our generation with graying temples, who doesn't want an ideal place connected to nature, melded with nature, and becoming one with it?

Ancient wise and benevolent people 'delight in water' and 'delight in mountains'—it's both nature and life pursuit. Amid the mountains and waters of Kunshan Lake, in the quiet courtyards, what desire is not diminished? And when we let go, what pursuit is not bound to happen naturally? Our escape from the city is not avoidance but a natural seeking from the depths of our hearts—a search for inner peace. 'If I could get a vast mansion of a thousand rooms, sheltering all the poor of the world with happy faces, as unmoving as a mountain in wind or rain!' Peace is not just having a mansion that shelters from wind and rain; sometimes peace is being moved by one's surroundings.

The existing project shows us not just the completion of courtyards but a kind of care everywhere. I visited a few times in previous years. It is no longer what it used to be; old look, new face—I saw its trials and transformations, its growth and progress, and at the same time gained warmth and emotion. Here, it is not just going with the flow and getting close to nature, not just having mountains, water, and fresh air, but more importantly, our life philosophy and lifestyle may change a little as we linger here.

Nowadays, the elderly don't want to trouble their children; they want to spend their remaining years quietly. We are slowly aging, hoping to be cared for in old age, and without exception, we hope our children have no worries. I think an environment and architecture like this undoubtedly provide us with a choice.

In the old story, the fisherman 'suddenly came upon a peach blossom grove, stretching for hundreds of paces along the bank, with no other trees. The fragrant grass was fresh and beautiful, and fallen blossoms lay in profusion.' The fisherman was very surprised and continued forward to explore the grove. 'At the end of the grove was a mountain, with a small opening that seemed to have light. So he left his boat and entered. At first, it was very narrow, barely allowing one person. After several dozen paces, it suddenly opened up. The land was flat and broad, with houses neatly arranged, fine fields, beautiful ponds, mulberry trees, bamboos, and the like. Paths crisscrossed, and the sounds of chickens and dogs could be heard. People coming and going, planting and working, men and women dressed like outsiders. The old and children were all happy and content.' The fisherman accidentally discovered the Peach Blossom Spring, but later 'could never find the way again'. Isn't today's Kunshan Lake exactly the Peach Blossom Spring we have been searching for in our dreams?