Chapter 84: The Old House in the Deep Mountains, Artistic Yearnings

But now it was deep into the night. The Blue Whale was probably asleep as well. Lin Shenlu sat down, feeling a little awkward, amused by her own sudden burst of inspiration. Well, she might as well keep writing.

...

"The night scenes of Lishui are equally enchanting. When darkness falls, pairs and trios of fishing boats along the shore hang red lanterns..."
"The riverbank has returned to calm."
"Only the occasional domestic chatter from the boats drifts like a faint nocturne, imbuing the air with a strong sense of ordinary life..."

...

Over two thousand words poured out, forty minutes of relentless typing. At last, she had finished the opening chapter of her travel notes about Lishui. The rest would have to wait a few days. After a brief wash, Lin Shenlu lay down on the bed. Yet her mind drifted back to the old house she had encountered that morning.

If she had to describe it in the most fitting terms, Lin Shenlu thought "a rare secluded retreat" was most apt. Nestled halfway up the mountain, the ridges around it were covered in varied vegetation, each hour of the day likely painting a new shade of green. Living there was almost like being granted a chance to choose life anew.

With a proper renovation—adding a touch of subtle luxury—it would exude the perfect sense of wild elegance. Lin Shenlu was enthralled. Her mind conjured vivid images of the inn once finished: the lobby adorned with solid wood tables and chairs, plain fabrics set against unadorned earthen walls. The pillars were raw timber, untouched by any processing. Through the windows, she imagined distant white walls and dark tiles, or earthen walls reflecting sunlight in shifting hues. Nearby, swaying bamboo shadows and mountains awash in green.

From a room's vantage, she saw the arched stone bridge spanning a babbling creek, mossy stone steps. The scene brimmed with poetic meaning. To reach such a place, one had to traverse the entire village; each daily journey back and forth would instill a sense of returning to simplicity—becoming a villager anew.

The abundance of lush greenery reminded Lin Shenlu of a poem by Ai Qing.
It was as if a bottle of green ink had been overturned—
Everywhere was green.
Where else could one find such verdant beauty?

...

Such a renovation must ensure the original façade and structure remain untouched, while the interior is transformed to make the space comfortable. It should maximize the dreams of city dwellers, letting them open the door and instantly immerse themselves in the pristine world outside.

Whether seeking urban comfort or closeness to nature, guests could simply push open their doors and switch between worlds at will. Whether longing for serenity or the experience of life, all who stayed would find fulfillment. As for the rooms themselves...

Lin Shenlu felt uncertain. With an inn of such high taste and style, surely there must be an array of decorative paintings. The choice of artwork was especially crucial. After all, this wasn't Zhouzhuang, Wuzhen, Lijiang, or Dali, where random online purchases could suffice for room decor.

This was Lishui—the land of painters. A place where the alleys and streets were filled with accomplished artists, where one could witness oil painting masters at work within a few steps, where true artists gathered. In such a place, opening an inn meant paintings mattered most—and were the hardest to procure. Even with money, some rare or uniquely evocative pieces simply couldn't be bought.

For the Blue Whale, any problem solvable with money was no problem at all. What Lin Shenlu needed to provide was genuine sentiment. Suddenly, inspiration struck—her eyes lit up.

She truly was gifted, for she had found the perfect solution! Lin Shenlu took a deep breath. At last, she had solved the mystery of sentiment, perfectly addressing what the Blue Whale had described. The previous lack of sentiment was only because the Ancient Dam Painting Village was too perfect.

Lin Shenlu felt no regrets. At least for now, in this place, there was nothing to regret. This, too, was why the Blue Whale sought sentiment, while she herself had no ideas. Sentiment is a kind of design, but true sentiment always arises from the heart. Lin Shenlu finally found her point of inspiration.

This was the Ancient Dam Painting Village! For someone who loved painting and photography, this was a second homeland. What could be more dazzling, more heartfelt, than launching a grand venture here? Lin Shenlu closed her eyes, utterly satisfied.

...

Tomorrow morning, she would take the Blue Whale jogging. After crossing the whole village, they could witness the thick morning mist, see clouds rising from terraced fields, and then visit the old house hidden amid infinite green—where sentiment dwelled.

Good night.

...

The next morning, Lin Shenlu rose early. Her biological clock had finally adjusted over these days. As dawn broke, she woke without an alarm. Dressed and ready, she sent the Blue Whale a message. The Blue Whale, half-asleep, needed about fifteen minutes to get herself together. Lin Shenlu stepped into the courtyard to smoke.

What piqued her curiosity was the courtyard she had rented. Lin Shenlu had only leased half—the half with two rooms. The other side, with a single house, had always been vacant. But this morning, before dawn, the empty house was lit up.

When did it become occupied?

As Lin Shenlu wondered, the door swung open. A man and a woman stepped out. Judging by their attire, they too were preparing for a morning jog to catch the sunrise.

The man looked twenty-seven or twenty-eight, ordinary, tall and thin, with a dark complexion. The girl was about twenty-one, lively and cheerful, though still yawning from the early hour.

Lin Shenlu watched as the girl covered her mouth, yawning and saying, "Brother Little Hand, did you bring the keys?"

"Yes, I have them, Xiao Wu. I'm just going to watch the sunrise and look for inspiration—you don't need to come with me. Why not go back to sleep? I won't be long," the man replied with some resignation.

The girl, called Xiao Wu, shook her head vigorously.
"Brother Little Hand... ah... I'm sleepy, but I want to stay by your side. Before we came, our boss said if you don't submit enough drafts this month, I'll lose my bonus..." Xiao Wu rubbed her eyes as she spoke.

The man sighed.
"Alright, let's go. Your boss is something else—assigning you as my assistant just to chase my writing..."

The two walked out of the courtyard, unaware of Lin Shenlu smoking in the corner. Lin Shenlu smiled. As expected, everyone living here was an artist. This man was clearly a writer...