Wuyi Mountain: Let the Danxia Brew Tea, Invite the Nine-Bend Stream to Flow with Poetry

Dubbed the "Danxia Museum" by UNESCO, this site unfolds a living scroll of summer coolness, using the 9.5-kilometer Nine-Bend Stream as an inkstone and the floral essence of 360-year-old mother-tree Da Hong Pao as ink. In the summer of 2025, this dual World Heritage site extends an invitation with "free admission"—step into its 96.72% forest-covered sanctuary on 18°C mountain breezes, and you’ll hear every Danxia rock whisper: these landscapes can brew tea and compose poetry alike.

**Nine-Bend Stream: A Flowing Poem on Bamboo Rafts**
A two-meter-wide antique-style bamboo raft parts the emerald waves, the poleman’s call startling egrets as the Thirty-Six Peaks sway with the ripples. "The Tianyou Peak at the sixth bend looks like it’s steeped in jade," say travelers, their lenses capturing its 408.8-meter summit veiled in morning mist. At the fifth bend, the poleman points to the cliffs: "Those folds are fossilized waves from a billion years ago, lines of an ancient poem." The magic peaks when rain clears—water laps at bamboo chair legs, and the reflection of the Jade Maiden Peak trembles in your teacup, "as if swallowing the whole mountain."

**Rock Essence, Floral Fragrance: A Millennial Dialogue from Mother Trees to Teacups**
On the cliffs of Jiulongke, six mother-tree Da Hong Pao plants, insured for hundreds of millions, still weave legends. Gazing up at them through monitoring cameras, visitors are moved by the guide’s words: "They stopped being harvested in the Qing Dynasty—now every leaf is a letter to heaven and earth." Down 300 steps, tea farmers demonstrate ancient "yao qing" techniques, the rustling of leaves in bamboo trays echoing the Tang-Song tea feasts on the 360° rotating stage of *Impression Da Hong Pao*. When actors pass teacups through the audience, the cry of "Let go of worries" blends with the aroma of real rock tea, becoming the most healing mantra.

**Cool Sanctuaries: 200-Meter Cracks and Tea Sets Under the Stars**
At its narrowest, the "Thread of Sky" fissure is just 30 cm wide, funneling summer chills that slice visitors’ gasps into fragments—"like stepping into an ice-cellar time tunnel." The iron ladder to Baiyun Temple hides surprises: climb its 70-degree incline at 4 AM, and sea of clouds surge from Sancai Peak. On the "Land of Bliss" platform behind the temple, a tea set hovers over a 100-meter abyss. "This sip," says a monk, "is the reward for the brave."

By night, Chongyang Stream transforms. Pedal a tandem bike along the "Tea-Lit Promenade," where LED cobblestones bloom with tea-leaf patterns, while across the water, *Moonlit Wuyi*’s stage splashes with philosophy—"When spotlights cast the Great King Peak’s shadow on the water screen, Zhu Xi’s question, ‘How can the stream stay so clear?’ suddenly makes sense."

**Landscapes on the Tongue**
At the Old Street night market, smoked goose wafts on the breeze, and vendors grin as they heap extra spoonfuls of "Langu chili" into your bowl: "This spice carries Danxia’s fire." Around the corner, youths photograph latte art of tea landscapes at the Da Hong Pao milk tea stand, the frothy peaks rivaling the starry sky over Qiyun Peak. One traveler notes: "After soaking my shoes at Qinglong Waterfall by day, drying them by a barbecue stall’s smoky glow at night—that’s the true Wuyi way."

Contrasts lurk everywhere: at the Yulinting kiln ruins, someone brews rock tea beside Song Dynasty shards; in Tongmu Pass’s primal forest, silver pheasants might peek at your wild mushroom stew. As the rafters say: "Nine-Bend’s water carries boats and ferments wine; Danxia’s rocks carve tablets and kindle fires."

**Come Here**
Let Tianyou Peak’s clouds be your rice paper, the Nine-Bend’s waves your brush. Awakening to Yongle Temple’s dawn bells, you’ll understand: Wuyi Mountain is no checklist item, but an ongoing dialogue—its mother trees’ rings await your next chapter.

After all, a summer steeped in the stream Zhu Xi once pondered is one to savor for a lifetime.