The Riverside of Released Time

Resting my legs here today, just as I once rested my horse... Walking along the cobblestone paths and listening to the stories of this town, I can't help but feel moved. This place was named 'Xiemaqiao' (Resting Horse Bridge) because General Han Shizhong of the Southern Song Dynasty once stopped here to rest his horse. Now, the horses and riders have long vanished into history, leaving only clusters of wild chrysanthemums swaying gently in the breeze. At the corner of the town entrance, a newly opened café is wafting the aroma of Yirgacheffe coffee. Strangely, this scent seems to meet the echoes of warhorses' hooves from 800 years ago in a peculiar convergence. If the ancients could glimpse this fleeting moment of parallel time, they might mistake it for their souls leaping into the heavens. It is said that the princess of Wu Yue, who fled south, once released fish and shrimp here to pray for blessings. But now, by the riverside, only a young tea artist brews cold brew tea in a glass pot, where the reflection of the glass merges quietly with the post-rain glimmer. And me, who released my time? Crossing the Guangfu Bridge from the Yuan Dynasty, the waters below once mirrored countless merchant ships. Today, they reflect the floor-to-ceiling windows of boutique tea houses on the shore. The silk, tea leaves, and grain of the past now mingle with hand-brewed coffee and French desserts, gently rippling on the water's surface. The faded plaque of the Qing Dynasty's filial piety archway is half-hidden in vines, while a nearby cultural shop plays jazz music. The reading sounds of old private schools have been replaced by the rustling of young people flipping through magazines in the adjacent bookstore. Perhaps this is the faint gray melancholy of a town dyed by time. Standing on the bridge, I simply admire the slow flow of the river... Time passes. Yet the scenery, remains beautiful.