"Xinchang is a bit old, waiting for you to cherish it"

Today, the sky is a heartfelt shade of blue. When I walked into the ancient town of Xinchang, it was the softest time of the afternoon. The sunlight was unhurried and gentle, like a tender gaze falling on those weathered doors marked by the passage of time. The breeze carried the scent of water and earth, neither cool nor warm, just perfect to slow down—slow enough that every step felt like a quiet greeting to the old street: "Are you doing well?" Xinchang is quieter than I imagined. There’s no loud clamor, only the silence left by time. This place was once an important commercial port connecting southeastern Shanghai to Zhejiang. Since the Song Dynasty, it has been prosperous and elegant, known as the "land of fish and rice" in Shanghai. Today, it resembles an aging actress who has shed her glamorous makeup and now speaks only through the stories etched in her wrinkles. The gray-white horsehead wall at the alley entrance looks especially solemn under the blue sky. I looked up to see clouds swirling, like a line of poetry written and erased, leaving only a faint stroke of memory. So I paused in front of an old house; its door panels were dark as ink, warmed by countless hands that had touched them. Suddenly, I recalled the sound of the old wooden door at my grandmother’s house in childhood—the creak marking the start of spring. At this moment, I seemed to hear Xinchang speaking to me too, in a silent way... Under many yellowed, aged window lattices, I took a few photos with painted door gods behind me. The brushstrokes were vivid, reminiscent of childhood temple fairs and sugar paintings. And my smile always held a bit of childishness—yes, I am also recording journeys of reconciliation with myself through my smile. Travelers often think they are on the road, but in fact, we are walking deep within memories. Xinchang didn’t make me exclaim loudly; it quietly opened the drawer of memories, letting me pick up parts of myself long forgotten, page by page. I once again admired the river reflecting the self that no longer rushes or tries to please others. As the sunset descended, I looked back at that alley... It didn’t call me, but it knew that perhaps one day, I would come again, riding the wind. #The movie Lust, Caution was filmed here #Pudong’s oldest ancient town #Millennium salt capital