Hangzhou Songcheng Eternal Love: Giving Time Stories and Childhood Memories

That morning, we set off together for Songcheng, Hangzhou. The weather was beautiful, the sun shone on the streets, and the air was filled with the faint fragrance of osmanthus. The children were incredibly excited. My sister, dressed in a purple coat, looked incredibly energetic. My brother, while eating breakfast, asked, "Can we see the emperor in Songcheng?" I smiled and said, "Yes, there are princesses, young ladies in ancient costumes, and dinosaurs!" His eyes widened. "Dinosaurs? There were dinosaurs in the Song Dynasty?" The whole car burst into laughter.

After driving about half an hour from the city center, when the large stone tablet with the inscription "Give me one day, I'll give you a thousand years" appeared ahead, the children immediately pressed their lips against the car windows and shouted, "We're here! We're here!" The entrance was packed, and the red archway was draped with lanterns and curtains, creating a lively atmosphere. The moment we entered, we felt like we had traveled directly from modern times into the bustling marketplace of ancient times.

The moment we entered, we saw the famous red corridor, festooned with lanterns and emblazoned with the words "I'm Back to the Great Song Dynasty." My sister ran in first, the red light bathing her in a warm glow. My brother chased after her, laughing, "Wait for me! If you run too fast, you'll travel back in time and never come back!" They both burst out laughing. At the end, we reached the main entrance to "Songcheng Dreams of Hualu," where we took a family photo. Dad held the camera, my sister raised her legs and gestured, and my brother, held in the middle, was puckering up with laughter. The backdrop was a large red fish and yellow lanterns, creating a festive photo. At that moment, everything felt perfect.

Once inside, the street was filled with traditional stalls selling candied haws, handmade fans, dyed fabrics, and carved trinkets. Young women dressed in Song Dynasty costumes walked around, handing out snacks. One stall sold osmanthus cakes, so fragrant it made people stop. My brother clamored for some, then tucked into it and declared, "It's better than the donuts at school!" Mom smiled and said, "This is a Song Dynasty pastry."

We also bought a cup of Songcheng's special milk tea. The cup had "Songcheng" written on it, and it was filled with fresh cream and sugar flowers. It also came with a small paper fan with the phrase "Contentment is happiness" written on it. My sister loved this phrase and said as she drank, "It sounds like it's talking about Mom." Mom laughed out loud, "Then you should learn to be content!"

When we reached a square, a performance of "Throwing the Embroidered Ball to Find a Marriage" was happening upstairs. The host shouted, "Who wants to catch the ball?" Several girls in ancient costumes were smiling and holding up red embroidered balls, creating a lively atmosphere. My brother raised his hands and shouted, "Me!" The ball went flying, a little off the mark, and landed squarely in the arms of a young man nearby, bringing laughter to the entire audience. My sister immediately added, "Brother, you're almost getting married!" My brother blushed and, laughing, exclaimed, "I don't want to get married!"

While strolling, we came across a "Guqin Shop." Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and inside, a teacher was teaching children to play the guqin. My sister's eyes lit up, and she said she wanted to try. She sat at the instrument, her posture surprisingly steady, and gently plucked the strings, producing a long, clear sound. The whole room suddenly fell silent, with only the sound of the instrument flowing. My father whispered, "She's really grown up." My brother leaned over and asked, "Can I play the drums then?" The teacher smiled and said, "Wait until you're taller, and then try the chime." We all laughed.

Leaving the Guqin Shop, my brother was immediately drawn to the "Dinosaur Museum." A Tyrannosaurus Rex head poked out from the wall outside, looking incredibly lifelike. Inside, there were many dinosaur models that moved and roared. The ceiling was painted with a starry sky, and the floor was covered in dinosaur footprints. My younger brother was a little scared at first and took two steps back, but when he saw his older sister strike a heroic pose and say, "I'll defeat the dinosaur!" he immediately rushed over and pretended to be a dinosaur. The two of them had a blast. At that moment, I thought, the power of Songcheng isn't just its ancient charm, but how it unleashes children's imaginations.

For lunch, we ate at the restaurant inside. We had Songsao fish soup, sweet and sour pork ribs, and lotus root with osmanthus and glutinous rice. The children enjoyed their meal and said it was much better than their school lunch. After lunch, we slowly walked to the riverside. There was a wooden bridge, and the red rooftops were reflected in the water. My younger brother, leaning over the railing to watch the fish, asked, "Will this river flow into West Lake?" Dad said, "Maybe, but it will definitely flow into our memories today." That remark suddenly warmed my heart.

In the afternoon, we visited the "Golden Palace." It was ablaze with gold, decorated with carved dragons and phoenixes, and in its center stood a golden dragon throne. Dad half-jokingly sat on it, and my sister immediately shouted, "The Emperor has arrived!" My brother followed suit, standing nearby and saying, "The Crown Prince is here!" Mom added with a smile, "Then I'm the Empress!" The four of us took our "enthronement photo" there, our laughter echoing through the Golden Palace.

Later, we went to the Light and Shadow Forest. The entire space was bathed in blue light, like a dream. Thin strands of light cascaded down from the ceiling, shimmering like rain, and a vast sea of white flowers spread across the ground. As my sister walked in, she whispered, "It's like I've stepped into the world of Frozen." My brother's eyes widened, "Are there elves here?" The scene was truly surreal, captivating even the adults.

As the sky darkened, we returned to the main theater for the grand finale, "Songcheng Eternal Love." As we entered, the children were still asking, "Will there really be water?" Less than ten minutes into the performance, the entire audience erupted in exclamations of "Wow!" The water curtain rose, the lights flickered, and the first act, depicting the Liangzhu civilization, was awe-inspiring. The stage effects of the fusion of water and fire were breathtaking. The second act depicted war and love in the Southern Song Dynasty. Performers danced amidst smoke and light, like a movie. When White Snake and Xu Xian met on the Broken Bridge, a real waterfall cascaded down from the stage, splashing the audience in the front row. My brother laughed and exclaimed, "It's real water!" My sister clutched my hand tightly and whispered, "I'm so moved."

The final act was "Charming Hangzhou." Hundreds of performers danced together, and the lights, music, and splashes of water all erupted simultaneously, illuminating the entire theater like daylight. Everyone stood up and applauded, the atmosphere reaching its climax. At that moment, I looked at the two children, their faces lit up. It wasn't just the light from the lights, but the light of emotion in their hearts.

After the performance, we slowly walked out. Songcheng at night had become much gentler. Red lanterns lined the streets, and the fragrance of osmanthus wafted back. My sister wrote a postcard at the "Love Post Office," saying, "Today I feel like I've really been to ancient times." My brother bought a small dinosaur model and said he wanted to put it by his bed.

Before leaving the city gate, I looked back at the stone tablet inscribed with the words, "Give me one day, and I'll give you a thousand." The words suddenly took on new meaning. It wasn't that Songcheng gave us a thousand years, but rather that we spent that day capturing our family's laughter, curiosity, and wonder in our memories.

In the car, the children fell asleep instantly. My sister still held the little paper fan, and my brother cradled the dinosaur. Looking at them, I felt that this day was truly worthwhile. Perhaps when they grow up and look at these photos again, they'll smile and say, "We've been to such a beautiful place."

The day in Songcheng ended, but the memories lingered. It allowed us to temporarily escape the hustle and bustle of daily life and rediscover the simple joy of family. So happiness is this: no need to travel far, just being together makes everywhere feel like an ancient dream.