Stay at a B&B on Haiyun Mountain and encounter the poetic slow life between the sea and mountains

Deep in the hidden paradise of Lianyungang, Haiyun Mountain stands in serene isolation. The B&Bs nestled within this landscape painting of mountains and sea are pure sanctuaries far from the hustle and bustle of the world. Stepping into the core area of Sucheng, known as the "Shangri-La," you'll find Su Garden quietly resting at the foot of Haiyun Mountain, gently embraced by ten nearly century-old trees. Here, tea culture blends perfectly with traditional Chinese courtyard architecture, creating a natural oxygen bar for tranquility. Every step reveals ancient blue bricks and tiles, with each turn offering a new vista. The panoramic views of the mountains, sea, and port city are breathtaking. Combining accommodation, tea appreciation, and dining, it’s truly an elegant retreat hidden in this "Shangri-La." After descending from Haiyun Mountain, we arrived at Su Garden and were pleasantly surprised to find Sucheng Reservoir, Tangwang Lake, and Maple Tree Bay just a few hundred meters away. The B&B’s wooden furniture and minimalist decor exude natural simplicity in every detail. Inside the rooms, floor-to-ceiling windows frame the stunning mountain and sea views. I walked along the bluestone path and knocked on Su Garden’s wooden door. The soft chime of the brass ring announced our arrival, and the manager, dressed in plain linen, greeted us with a nod, offering a cup of Yunwu tea. The tea’s misty surface seemed to blend the twilight hues of the mountains into its warmth. The B&B is full of delightful surprises and thoughtful touches. The Guanyu Tea Hall, bathed in the breeze and surrounded by trees, rustles softly as the wind carries the fragrance of tea through the air. Pushing open the guest room door, a small cat curled up by the entrance, smiling at us as if it had been waiting. In the scripture-copying room, the ink on the rice paper was still wet, likely left by someone seeking peace and mindfulness through the ancient practice. Waking at dawn to the aroma of tea, sunlight filtered through the window lattices, illuminating dancing dust particles. Following the stone path to the tea room, I watched the tea master rinse the cups with boiling water, her movements fluid and graceful. She placed a warm teacup before me and patiently explained, "This is our local specialty, Yunwu tea." The tea’s initial bitterness gave way to a lingering sweetness, like swirling mountain mist in the throat. In the afternoon, I brewed tea by the dappled window, savoring each step—boiling water, warming the cup, adding leaves—as if sculpting time itself. Amid the curling steam, I watched the tree branches sway in the courtyard breeze, suddenly understanding the poetic line: "Where the stream ends, sit and watch the clouds rise." Imagine dusk settling in, the scent of sandalwood incense mingling with tea, transforming the entire space into a meditative haven far from the mundane world. On the journey back, gazing at the passing green mountains through the car window, the tea’s bittersweet aftertaste lingered on my lips. True Zen, it seems, was hidden in those quiet moments of pouring and sipping. Read, listen to Zen. Burn incense, copy scriptures. Steal a half-day of leisure in this fleeting life, with a pot of tea under rolling clouds and gentle winds. Why ask more of life’s fleeting matters? This very life is but a dream. A simple heart is joy enough. At the foot of Haiyun Mountain, encounter a Zen-inspired dwelling between sea and peaks. Fall in love with Sucheng, live with a bare heart, and cherish Su Garden.