SG hotel

The wind from the south of China blew over my face with the salty smell of the sea tide. I dragged my suitcase and stood in front of Shengge B&B. I was just here for an exam and wanted to find a place to rest nearby, but I never thought that I would feel at home after staying here. The moment I opened the car door and got out of the car, the warm yellow light fell all over the ground, like the falling moonlight. There were people sitting in the yard in groups of three or two. They looked up and smiled at me and asked me where I was from. I said, from Nanjing! They smiled and continued chatting, as if I was just a child playing and going home. One of the guys helped me check in, took my suitcase, and took me through the yard. The light fell through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled light and shadows on the ground. The night wind blew, and the leaves rustled, like whispers. The stairs are simple white, exuding a modern feel, but not without warmth. There is a swimming pool outside, embedded with soft light strips, like stars dotted under your feet. Pushing open the door, the warm light filled the room again, like the second moonlight welcoming me. The room is not big, but it is full of care. The curtains are off-white and fluttering gently. Outside the window is the dark night sky, and the sound of waves can be heard faintly in the distance, like some kind of gentle lullaby. That night, I slept very soundly. The bed was soft, like sleeping in the clouds. When I woke up in the morning, the sun had already shone through the curtains, weaving a golden spot on the floor. I lay in bed, listening to the crisp birdsong in the yard, and suddenly felt that this small southern city seemed to have been waiting for me for a long time. The homestay is always lively at night. The sound of guitar sounded from a corner, and then someone hummed along. The movie projector hummed, the light and shadow danced on the wall, and everyone ate fruit together in the evening breeze: the evening breeze blew gently, with fruit fragrance and laughter. Suddenly I felt that this scene was very much like the fruit in our hands - pineapple dipped in salt, green mango wrapped in chili powder, sweet and spicy intertwined on the tip of the tongue, just like us who met by chance. Everyone has their own characteristics, like different flavors, but in this southern night, they blend so naturally. As the night deepened, the starlight fell, as if it had coated this encounter with a layer of gentle light. Those sweet and spicy flavors, those laughter and conversations, will become the warmest fragments in memory, like the southern evening breeze, gently blowing, but lingering for a long time. On the night before leaving, we had a seafood dinner. On the table, accents from all over the world intertwined, sharing their travel stories. As the night deepened, the moonlight came in through the window and merged with the lights on the table. The plate gradually emptied, but the conversation became more and more heated. I looked at this table of people and thought, this may be the meaning of travel. It is not to see how many scenery, but to meet such a group of people, sitting together on a certain night, sharing food, sharing stories, and sharing life. Those laughs, those arguments, those inadvertent warmth, will all become the most precious part of my memory. At that moment, I suddenly realized that the most beautiful scenery on the journey is not the coconut beach, but these people who met by chance but are still warm. When I left, I looked back at Shengge Courtyard. Dant and Jinzhuan (two little dogs) were still sleeping. The warm yellow light was still on, like the eyes of a night watchman, like a lamp that never goes out. The wind in the south is still blowing, with the smell of the sea and the warmth of home. The light sprinkled on the wooden floor of the porch, on the rattan chairs in the yard, and on the flowers in the corner, as if silently retaining. I know that this light will always be on, lighting the way for the next person to come, just as it once lit up for me. The wind in the south is still blowing, with the smell of the sea, salty and fresh. It brushed my cheek, like some kind of gentle farewell. I took a deep breath, as if I wanted to keep this breath in my memory forever. The wind is still mixed with the warmth of home - those night laughters, those times sitting together, those inadvertent warmth, all gently echoing in the wind. The wind in the south is still blowing, carrying the smell of the sea and the warmth of home. I turned and walked towards the street in the morning light, saying silently in my heart: Goodbye, Shengge. Goodbye, those warm nights. Goodbye, those people who met by chance but are still warm. The wind is still blowing, carrying my thoughts, gently drifting away. May Shengge always be as warm as before, and may everyone who passes by find the feeling of home here. The songs, laughter, arguments at those nights, the food, stories, and moods shared, will all become the warmest footnotes in memory.

This place is beautiful and clean, the staff is very kind and helped me in every way. Great hostel!