I first met Emei on a slightly cool morning.
The morning mist has not yet dissipated, and the mountains are faintly visible in the thin veil of mist, like a painting of ink and blue.
Halfway up the mountain, passing by several quaint villages.
Typical houses in western Sichuan are scattered on mountain slopes, with smoke rising from cooking fires and interweaving with the mist in the mountains, forming a peaceful pastoral painting.
Passing through the village, a clear lake surface suddenly appears – the lake water is like a mirror, reflecting the sky, clouds, and surrounding greenery, naturally immersing one’s mind in tranquility and joy.
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