"Careful, girls. Take your time getting aboard." Once the old boatman had secured the boat, he offered them a thoughtful reminder.
Chen Siyao jumped aboard first. The boat rocked, and she let out a startled "Oh!" Chen Hao steadied her from behind.
Holding Li Li's hand, Yang Wanqing carefully boarded the boat. Cai Jingwen got on last and sat beside Chen Siyao. Chen Hao sat at the stern, next to the old boatman.
Cradled in Yang Wanqing's arms, Moontrace craned its head to look at the water and reached out a paw to scoop at the rings left by the rain. Yang Wanqing pushed its paw back down.
The old boatman raised his bamboo pole, and the boat slowly left the bank, heading toward the middle of the river.
Fine, closely spaced threads of rain fell, raising a thin mist over the river. The old houses on either bank appeared and vanished in the haze, their white walls and black tiles like a brushstroke bleeding into an ink painting.
A small boat lay beneath a bridge arch. No one was aboard; only a few ducks swam back and forth beside it.
Chen Siyao held up her phone, slowly sweeping the camera across both banks. The comments in the livestream slowed—not because no one had anything to say, but because everyone was watching.
[I Am Ying Zheng: I was wrong. I used to think only scenery abroad could be called beautiful.]
[Macroeconomics: You could spend your whole life exploring the beautiful places in our country and still not see them all.]
[Dream: Now this is Jiangnan. Not the kind you see in photos—the living, breathing kind.]
[Travel Lover: Threads of rain, mist over the water, old houses, a black-canopied boat. This is the "little bridge, flowing water, and homes" from our