This is the tranquility of time.

On days when the sky is as clear as a wash, sunlight lazily spills over the mottled walls, and the sound of music and laughter echoes from deep within the alley. Walking through the bustling market, I casually pick up a string of bright red peppers and exchange a few words with the vendor, feeling a warmth in my heart. A cat stretches lazily under the eaves, and the melodious sound of an old man's flute at the street corner in the morning makes one take a deep breath, inhaling the simple happiness into the chest. The nights in Lijiang have a unique charm. The lights of the ancient town are soft and warm, reflecting on the cobblestones like the fine sand of time slowly flowing. When tired, I lodge at a guesthouse by the mountain stream. The beauty there exceeds any expectations. The shadows of bamboo sway, the stream murmurs, and the rooms are simple yet comfortable, with every detail revealing the owner's care. Closing my eyes, the nocturne of the mountains and fields plays in my ears, and even in dreams, one can feel this serene tranquility. When the morning light awakens the dream, the scenery outside the window is the most beautiful good morning. This is the tranquility of time, not just the distant poetry and fields, but also the simple life around and the peace within. In Lijiang, every scene is a poem, and every experience is worth cherishing.