During a business trip to Huzhou, I stumbled upon a tranquil little village.

Stepping out for a walk at 7 a.m., the air was filled with a refreshing sweetness. The natural symphony of birdsong reached my ears, while elderly locals sat on benches chatting leisurely in the soft Wu dialect. White-walled, black-tiled buildings reflected in the crystal-clear stream, with small bridges and flowing water composing a natural ink painting. The most delightful surprise was the absence of tourists—only gentle breezes, melodious birdsong, and the murmurs of elderly conversations remained. In that moment, I seemed to have discovered the truest essence of Jiangnan—unadorned yet profoundly poetic, far from the crowds yet brimming with vitality. Such a morning made me realize that the real Jiangnan isn't found in crowded attractions, but hidden in these unknown corners.