Take a night tour of Jinli and have a perfect encounter with time.

As dusk washes over the eaves of Wuhou Shrine, the red lanterns at the entrance of Jinli Ancient Street light up one after another. Thousands of silk lanterns hang down like ripe persimmons, winding through the black tiles and wooden windows like a warm river, outlining the ochre-gold contours of the Ming and Qing Dynasty style beams. The bluestone slabs are soaked with the lingering rain from the day, reflecting the shattered gold of the lantern's reflection. Tourists' clothes brush past the Three Kingdoms wine flags, and at the corner, a covered bridge lies across the water. Koi carp in the pond stir up the lamplight, shattering the hibiscus pattern embroidered on the water's surface. The aroma of Bitan Piaoxue tea drifts from the teahouse, mingling with the sweetness of caramel from the sugar painting stall. In front of the shadow puppet shop, an old artist is manipulating bamboo sticks. The light and shadow behind the curtain sweep across the window lattices of the western Sichuan dwellings, casting the silhouette of Zhuge Liang's feather fan on the century-old brick wall. The most wonderful time is near midnight, when the crowds gradually disperse. Lanterns sway gently in the wind, dyeing the night clouds with a vermilion glow. The whole street is like amber soaked in aged yellow wine—at this moment, Jinli becomes a fish that has escaped the net of time.