Jiangnan, afternoon, distant mountains, the present.

That afternoon, we returned to Hongcun from Xidi. It started to drizzle outside, and the summer heat in Jiangnan subsided for a while. The three of us decided to drive into the mountains to see what we could find. We drove aimlessly and stopped wherever we wanted. At that moment, I realized what a real trip was. It was a trip without a destination, a trip to rest, to release, and to feel. The villages in Huangshan, the curling smoke, seemed to have a magic power to free people from all shackles. The distant mountains, the rivers, the clouds. I came to Jiangnan just to see them. On the way back, we found a small house in the lush greenery. It was a cafe. Dad jokingly called it "Miss Rabbit's" (everywhere) cafe. We decided to stop and visit. I can't describe how relaxed we were that afternoon because I probably won't be that relaxed again. The busy "Miss Rabbit" served only the three of us (there were no other guests). A glass of milk, a cup of Huangshan Maofeng, and a cup of Taiping Houkui. We enjoyed the rare August breeze in Jiangnan, calm and relaxed. We didn't talk or think, just quietly felt the present. Where we were yesterday and where we would go tomorrow didn't matter. We just immersed ourselves in today and this moment.