Chapter 78: The Riverside Town

“Brother, I was wrong!”
“Slow down... I can’t take it anymore...”
“No, be gentle...”
Round two began, and the little girl cried out wildly, pressed beneath him, her body soft and yielding like braised pork belly—rich but not cloying, warm and juicy.

Both were drenched in sweat; after their passionate entanglement, they soaked in a lovers’ bath and replenished their energy with Western steak in the presidential suite. Lying on the bed, Zhuang Chen caressed Qianqian’s treasures with satisfaction and said, “Accompany me to Wuzhen tomorrow.”

The girl’s eyes sparkled—not only did she earn twenty thousand each night, but her partner was young and vigorous. She hurriedly licked Zhuang Chen’s rocket with her little tongue and said coyly, “Wuzhen needs at least a whole day, and Qiandao Lake is also a lot of fun!”

Zhuang Chen slapped her bottom, feigning ferocity, “Little rascal, didn’t get enough just now?”

Qianqian waved her hands, begging, “Please, you’re too fierce, I feel swollen down there. Let me rest tonight. Tomorrow, let’s visit the water towns of Jiangnan—that’s even more romantic.”

Zhuang Chen was only teasing; after a day’s run, two rounds were enough. The main reason was that the girl was adorable, easy to play with, and enjoyable; spending a few more days together was not bad.

Women from Jiangnan were gentler than those from the big city, with a delicate, dependent nature. No wonder it’s been known as the tomb of heroes since ancient times—it made sense.

They slept until late morning, had breakfast in the room, and drove to Wuzhen. He relished the feeling of wandering down a long corridor, letting himself go, turning away from bridges, flowing water, and homes, gazing at flowers with drunken, hazy eyes.

Sixty kilometers passed quickly, and on the streets of Wuzhen, whether turning left or right, one would inevitably encounter a narrow alley. The alleys by the river were as brief as a flute’s note, with willow trees swaying at the water’s edge.

Those stretching beyond the town were long and lingering, like the melody of a pipa, telling stories in their own way. It felt like the rhythm of Song lyrics—rising and falling, uneven emotions.

“We can stay at ALILA, the world’s first five-star concept hotel, which only opened officially earlier this year.”

The hotel bordered a wetland scenic area in the southeast of Wuzhen, less than three kilometers from the famous West Gate scenic area. From afar, the architecture and its reflection in the water seemed inseparable.

Getting out to explore, it was clear why it was called a concept hotel—the first impression was simply: abstract.

It seemed to seek a geometric approach, giving new functions and spirit to streets, alleys, and courtyards, reshaping the winding, layered spatial charm.

Walking across the tranquil water, the pure architectural forms echoed each other, exuding a tenderness unique to Wuzhen. No wonder the hotel entrance featured the words:
By the water’s edge, even in such tranquility, who could bear to sleep early?

Inside, the surroundings were rendered in subtle, warm wooden tones. The dining room lights hung like stars, and the transparent glass windows brought the outside scenery in, capturing every change of the seasons.

After checking in at the front desk—thirty thousand square meters, one hundred and twenty villa suites—they stood by the window, gazing at the peaceful town. Qianqian leaned beside him, moved, “Life in the water towns seems unchanged for years, warm because of its familiarity. Time here feels forever suspended. Time truly never stops for anyone, but good things are left behind.”

Zhuang Chen looked around; the interior design didn’t simply extract Jiangnan elements or regional motifs but instead used light and materials to create a serene, elegant water town atmosphere—simple and bright.

The natural wooden walls were neat and fresh. Sunlight filtered through carved windows, casting flecks on the wall like water stains spreading across paper, drifting over the bed’s edge and climbing onto the quilt, blooming into white flowers. The shadowy room was instantly suffused with a gentle warmth.

The overall design followed minimalist aesthetics, capturing the essence of Jiangnan architecture—simplicity, refinement, and tranquility. All ornamental elements were discarded; instead, delicate materials, concise structures, and elegant colors were used with care.

After tidying up, they set out to tour the ancient town. The old buildings were built along the water, staggered and harmonious, everywhere adorned with gray tiles and white walls. Even the garbage bins along the streets were amusing, shaped like laughing children, yet obediently stationed in their spots.

“The East Gate was the filming location for the TV drama ‘Time Like Water.’ It’s always been a place I long for,” Qianqian said as she pulled Zhuang Chen along. “Many original residents still live here. It doesn’t have the bustle or scale of the West Gate, nor even its cleanliness, but I love it more than West Gate.”

“Because here a love story once unfolded between a man and a woman, separated by mountains and seas between Wuzhen and Taipei—it still moves me to this day...”

Zhuang Chen didn’t reply, savoring the serenity of the alleys. They were slender and tranquil, paved with blue bricks, flanked by tall white walls. At the other end, the exit opened onto a family’s courtyard, half-closed, lush with grass, as if separated from the earlier bustle by a world.

Passing an old post office, the girl insisted on buying two postcards—one for a friend, one for her future self, as a cherished memory.

The gentle sound of flowing water, the mottled light on ancient bridges, graceful ladies beneath oil-paper umbrellas, moss-covered stone paths, and antique pavilions and towers...

Strolling through the water town, white walls and black tiles, high ridges and eaves, riverside arcades, overhanging corridors, crossing bamboo stone railings, riverside pavilions, and bridges connecting streets...

White walls, black tiles, small bridges, flowing water—all carried the aura of an ink painting. Carved beams, painted columns, stone alleys, and old houses bore witness to the passage of history.

It had to be said—the beauty of Wuzhen was utterly different from West Lake. The latter was lovely, but compared to here, the pace was faster, more commercialized. Wuzhen was the kind of place one could stay for days without growing tired of it.

Qianqian exclaimed, “West Gate is bigger, its night scenes even more stunning. Though there are some handicraft shops inside, and the commercial atmosphere is strong, in my eyes West Gate is truly beautiful.”

“Especially at night, when the lights come on and reflect in the river—it’s absolutely gorgeous!”

Seeing the girl’s bright smile, Zhuang Chen smiled too. The scenery was indeed wonderful—should he consider buying a house here?

“Look, this is Hongyuan Tai Dyehouse, established in the Song Dynasty, a base for blue-printed cloth. The blue fabric flutters in the wind, so beautiful, and the printed patterns have their unique charm...”

“Gongsheng Distillery—this is where local wine culture is showcased. Visitors can see the entire brewing process...”

“Huiyuan Pawnshop, though tucked away in a less conspicuous corner, is worth a visit. It bears witness to Wuzhen’s former prosperity as a Jiangnan commercial center. The items displayed inside are truly antique...”

“Just ahead is the food street—bullfrog stew, steamed bass, duck in sauce, lamb, all delicious. So many snacks: radish cakes, pastries, buns, spring rolls, stinky tofu, crabapple cakes, egg pancakes...”

As they walked, they looked, sampled, and ate. Though most of the food wasn’t very good, a bite here and there, they eventually ate themselves full.