Walking with Zhou Run 2: the Middle Journey of Jiangnan Painting

The train slowly drove into Xiamen North Railway Station. It was like a dragon ready to go, ready to take me to Hangzhou, a city wrapped in poetry and tenderness. Holding my ticket in hand, I walked lightly through the bustling crowd and found my seat. It was a second-class carriage. Although it was not luxurious, it was warm and friendly. Outside the window, the scenery of Xiamen gradually blurred, replaced by the fields, mountains and rivers that flew by, as well as the occasional rural hut. In their own way, they told the story of this land to me, a passerby.