I am not Ximen Qing.

The beauty of West Lake is sentimental; its sentimentality can rejuvenate all who are downcast, making it a dreamlike paradise for sentimental gentlemen. This is the reason for West Lake's sentimentality. In this world, only emotion is the most beautiful thing. Sentimental West Lake! Zhang Sheng now realizes that he hasn't truly left Bai Juyi's most romantic Baisha Causeway. This Lonely Hill, this West Lake, holds too many dreamlike shadows of Bai Letian, Su Dongpo, and Lin Bu. With a touch of romantic flair, West Lake always makes everything sentimental. A visit to West Lake might even make ordinary people more rational!

He Xinlang

Swallows fly over the ornate house, all is quiet, the shade of the paulownia tree turns to midday, the evening coolness is fresh after a bath. She plays with a white silk fan, her hand like jade. Gradually, drowsiness sets in, and she falls into a deep, solitary sleep. Who comes to push open the embroidered door outside the curtain? In vain, her dream of the Jade Terrace is shattered, only to be broken by the wind rustling the bamboo.

The pomegranate, half-open, its red petals like a furrowed kerchief, awaits the end of all the floating blossoms and drifting stamens, to keep you company in your solitude. A single branch, vibrant and beautiful, reveals a heart bound in a thousand layers. Yet, I fear the west wind will startle its verdant beauty. If you were to come here, I would not bear to touch it before the flowers, to drink wine with you. Together we would shed tears, two streams falling.

Oh, what a beautiful dream of love! Swallows fly into the magnificent hall, a beauty emerges from her bath, playing with a white fan. The beauty is affectionate, her words carrying a deep meaning, her jade-like hand holding the fan. As clear and translucent as white jade, she seems weary from their first encounter. Unable to sleep, she seems to hear the sound of a door opening outside, a dreamlike love song. Abruptly, a startled awakening, only the wind rustling through the bamboo. The pomegranate blossoms of Immortal Beauty reveal only half their petals, awaiting full bloom. The delicate, amorous flower accompanies Immortal Beauty alone as she plucks a vibrant red blossom, breathing in its heart, enveloped in its red petals. Afraid of the west wind's disturbance, how she longs for a passionate young man to come here, to drink wine together under the romantic pomegranate blossoms. Unable to contain her emotions, beautiful tears well up. Pink and fluttering, tears stream down her cheeks, the waters of passionate love! This is the feeling that arises unconsciously, entering a passionate dream. It's been a long time since I've felt this way. I don't know if it's West Lake or Su Shi who brought the inspiration for love. This is the vitality of imagination and love. Now, I don't know if it's the words of Shu Zi or Zhang Sheng, but I've returned from Gushan to the shores of West Lake, my heart filled with endless reverie and longing. I can feel love sharing, physical beauty, and the passionate young man in the court will always be dissatisfied, because he exists for the beauty of the country. If there hadn't been the Wutai Corpse Case, Chinese culture would be missing a romantic and elegant touch, a profound imprint of West Lake. In the past, West Lake was rich and colorful, with many talented men and beautiful women starting societies there. Ladies and gentlemen would come up with all sorts of societies, all of which were just a kind of performance, but weren't their real purpose all about love and romance? So-called societies are all like this. Regardless, the Xiling Seal Society on Gushan Island still carries on the cultural banner of Su Dongpo and Bai Juyi. West Lake is like that—everywhere is elegance, everywhere is culture, and everywhere is beauty. Thinking of West Lake, which embodies elegance, culture, and beauty all at once, Zhang Sheng didn't want to imitate it, much less try to show off his skills before an expert, because Su Causeway was right before him, and he was familiar with the place. However, because of West Lake and Su Shi's poems, he accidentally entered the dream of an immortal beauty emerging from a bath, a dream of ethereal beauty, just a fleeting sentiment. This world becomes a place of passionate love, how wonderful! One can use love to startle a dream; immortal beauty needs love dreams. The dream of an immortal beauty emerging from a bath—how many loves are like the knocking of bamboo!

Dongxiange

Her skin was like ice, her bones like jade, naturally cool and free of sweat. A breeze wafted through the water pavilion, filling it with a subtle fragrance. The embroidered curtains opened, and a sliver of moonlight peeked in. She was not yet asleep; her pillow was askew, her hair disheveled. She rose and took her fair hand. The courtyard was silent, with only a few stars occasionally seen crossing the Milky Way. But what then? The night was already past midnight, the golden waves were pale, the Jade Rope star slanted low, and when would the west wind arrive? Yet another year had secretly slipped away.

Her ethereal beauty, cool and free of perspiration, was enveloped in a gentle breeze that carried her fragrance. The embroidered curtains were drawn back, and under the moonlight, she admired her own beauty. She was still awake, leaning against her pillow with her hair disheveled, holding her lover's hand in silent solitude, gazing at the sparse stars in the sky. The night was romantic. The night was deep! The stars shifted in the sky, the moonlight fading, yet she was still wasting time, lest her love for her ethereal beauty vanish. She dared to love and hate, lest love slip away.

Ji Shen Liao Zi

A gentle breeze carries the tide from afar, while a heartless wind sends it away. I ask the Qiantang River, at the Xixing ferry crossing: how many times has the setting sun shone? No need to ponder the past or present; the people of yesteryear are gone. Who is like Su Shi, who, in his old age, forgot worldly concerns? Remember the western shore of West Lake, where spring mountains are at their best, shrouded in misty green. Such poets are truly kindred spirits. Few are like you and me. Let us promise to meet again someday, returning east by sea, hoping that Xie Lingyun's noble aspirations will not be fulfilled. The road to Xizhou, I should not look back, lest it bring tears to my eyes.

Can Liaozi was Su Shi's confidant; wasn't Can Liaozi another Wang Lun of Li Bai?

Gift to Wang Lun

Li Bai was about to set sail when he suddenly heard singing on the shore.

The water in Peach Blossom Pool is a thousand feet deep, but it cannot compare to the affection Wang Lun showed me.

Can Liaozi is remembered in history for becoming a close friend of Su Dongpo, while Wang Lun, a recluse, is even more famous for becoming a close friend of Li Bai. The friendship between Dongpo and Can Liaozi was like the tide of the Qiantang River, a perfect match in thought and spirit.

Ji Shen Liao Zi

The Venerable Master studied the emptiness of suffering, but a hundred years have passed and all is now ashes.

The sword tip has only one acupoint, while the scorched valley has no new spots.

Hu Wei, like us, strives to make our writings shine.

New poems are like jade dust, released into the distant mirror.

When discussing cursive script, Han Yu never considered anything else.

Feeling sorrowful and resentful, I wrote this down.

It's quite strange that Buddhist monks treat their bodies like worn-out shoes.

Unable to forget words. Curiosity led me to Jiangling.

Laugh at me for my bitter love for you, for I never stop reciting poems.

How can you be so capable, composing beautiful verses without ceasing?

You say that you find joy in the Dharma and have no attachment to external things.

They laugh at my sentimentality, for too much sentimentality leads to nothing.

The Taoist's heart is like a mirror, reflecting the rise and fall of all things.

I long to roam the rivers and seas, for I find joy in this and never tire of it.

What is real in this world? What we see is neither true nor false.

The black and yellow robes were everywhere, numbering in the millions.

Monks who hold this ambition often face ridicule and slander.

It's better to learn nothing than to learn nothing, thus washing away the barriers of written words.

I was born to be ordained by Heaven, and this matter has been resolved in my lifetime.

Every thought creates its own cause; how can cause and effect be entrusted to anyone else?

My actions and whereabouts are beyond my control; life and death are not my concern.

Suddenly, I heard the Taoist say something that felt like drinking a fine cup of wine.

I dejectedly put down my pen, as a thunderstorm arose in my heart.

I write poems to send to old friends, hoping our paths will cross again from the sea.

Su Shi and his close friend Can Liao Zi discussed Buddhism and the fleeting nature of life. They were kindred spirits, like Bo Ya and Zi Qi. I wonder, between Su Shi and Can Liao Zi, who was Bo Ya and who was Zi Qi? Listening to Su Shi's Buddhist teachings is like listening to the beautiful music of a flowing zither, like a mountain stream. Su Shi added lyrics to his teacher's "The Drunken Old Man's Song," which should have been "The Drunken Old Man's Melody," but now only the lyrics remain, while the original score has disappeared. It seems the ancients' pursuit of beauty was endless, like the friendship between Bo Ya and Zi Qi, like a flowing zither. Can Liao Zi was Su Shi's most loyal confidant and believer, because Su Shi's beauty is like the beauty of the zither music. But Zhang Sheng still prefers Su Shi. The world of immortal beauty.

Jiang Chengzi

Sending off the ancients at the Bamboo Pavilion on Gushan Mountain

Her delicate eyebrows, shy and bashful, dared not be seen; she hid her tears behind her silk handkerchief. She finished her cup, wiped away her tears, and sang "Yangguan." Though the clouds over the city are said to be unchanging, the sky is easy to see, but seeing you is difficult.

A newly built hall stands near Lonely Hill, its winding balustrade—for whom is it situated? Flying catkins and falling blossoms—spring's beauty belongs to next year. I wish to mourn the passing of the small boat and seek out old stories, but there is nowhere to ask; the water stretches to the horizon.

The Gushan Bamboo Pavilion in Gushan Temple was built by Bai Juyi. Such a scene evokes deep emotions and poignant reflections. A beautiful woman, her delicate features blushing with shyness, sheds tears and sings "Yangguan," for she is leaving Hangzhou, and her love and romance will end. Immortal beauty, tears of love; there is no hope of seeing him again. Joy and sorrow, separation and reunion; people are both affectionate and indifferent. Why is this so? Everything will fall like willow catkins, and new spring will be born next year. She wants to row a small boat to recall past memories, but there is nowhere to ask or know. The waters of West Lake stretch to the horizon, influencing Su Dongpo's era, and even Bai Juyi's ancestral hall. These two great figures were at least in harmony in their souls. They both had their friends, their confidants, and their own courtesans. In Su Dongpo and Bai Juyi's time, at least the shores of West Lake were a stage for courtesans and entertainers. Scenes like Bai Juyi's "Pipa Xing" were common on West Lake.

Jiang Chengzi

On the lake, I composed poems with Zhang Xian, and sometimes I heard the sound of zithers.

The rain has just stopped at Phoenix Mountain, the water is clear, the breeze is gentle, and the evening glow is bright. A lotus flower, though past its bloom, still lingers gracefully. From where do two white egrets fly by? As if intentionally admiring her beauty.

Suddenly, I heard a mournful zither playing on the river, its mournful strains echoing in the cold. Who could hear it? The smoke cleared and the clouds dispersed, and I vaguely recognized it as the spirit of the Xiang River. I wanted to wait until the music ended to inquire further, but the person was nowhere to be seen; only the green peaks remained.

Picking mulberries

Deeply sentimental and often ill, I reside in the Duojing Tower. We meet over wine, and a smile graces my face as we reminisce over joyful moments.

Stop drinking and listen to the pipa's gentle melody, a soft and subtle disturbance. A flushed face, like spring's warmth, is bathed in the slanting sunlight, a touch of red against the river and sky.

It seems as if Su Dongpo, a figure from a thousand years ago, has traveled back to the modern era. His eternal themes are beautiful women, love, romance, fine wine, and music. Su Dongpo's elegance wasn't deliberately pursued, but rather natural; he captured fleeting moments of elegance existing in the world, making them eternally beautiful. Su Dongpo's aesthetics are forever rooted in the beauty of literary tradition. In this poem, one can see traces of Bai Juyi, and even more so, the greatness of Qu Yuan. This is the beauty of Su Dongpo, who could traverse different times and spaces. Returning to the Song Dynasty, it seems as if the West Lake of that era, both the Northern and Southern Song, is still vivid in our minds. The Tang Dynasty feels somewhat distant. Why is the Song Dynasty so close? Because the literati of the Song Dynasty were among the most vibrant and free-spirited in the world. From the most open-minded literati perspective, Zhang Sheng seems to have entered the West Lake circle of the Song Dynasty. Because the center of the Tang Dynasty was Chang'an, while the center of the Song Dynasty was far from Youzhou, the Song emperors bore the shadow of Li Yu's romantic and amorous life, and the shadow of his Stone City, Jinling. In fact, the entire culture still lived within that dynasty. Song Dynasty culture had the deepest influence on China, to the point that we forgot the existence of Tang Dynasty culture, only remembering the Tang tri-colored pottery in the Forbidden City. At least Tang tri-colored pottery preserved a trace of the Tang Dynasty, leaving our impression of the Tang Dynasty at West Lake. The impression of *Journey to the West* is a product of Ming Dynasty culture, but it is also part of Tang Dynasty history—all cultural exports. I like reading *Journey to the West* because of Tang Dynasty culture, I like *Water Margin* because of Song Dynasty culture, and I like *Jin Ping Mei* because of the turning point in Northern Song history. The Song Dynasty was a culturally confident dynasty, which is particularly important. Isn't the Liao Pagoda in Beijing evidence of the strength of Tang Dynasty culture? The pagodas of Tianning Temple and Yunju Temple, the Tang tri-colored pottery—the openness of the Tang Dynasty immediately comes to mind. Before the Tang Dynasty, Beijing was inhabited by Khitans, Turks, Caucasians, and Arabs. The true secrets of history are often hidden within culture. Culture and art, a journey through time and space, even at West Lake, one can think of Emperor Qianlong's deep love for Empress Fucha. The emperor kept all his love in the Changchun Palace where Empress Fucha resided. Why was the amorous Qianlong so fond of West Lake? Here, one can encounter the famous courtesan Su Xiaoxiao's "Dream of Xiling Bridge." West Lake in the Song Dynasty was the most beautiful and romantic, its atmosphere the most open. This world is strange; I've seen Su Shi's original paintings and calligraphy in the Forbidden City, along with "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" and Li Bai's calligraphy—national treasures. I've read many of Su Dongpo's works, his poems. Su Dongpo, one of the Eight Great Prose Masters of the Tang and Song Dynasties, has an influence that transcends time and place. His art is always exquisite and refined. To appreciate his works is merely to experience them through books; it's just a matter of liking them. But the difference between visiting West Lake and climbing Gushan Island versus not visiting it is striking. Su Dongpo's poetry truly captures the essence of West Lake. Zhang Sheng has now fallen into Su Dongpo's dreamlike state, hasn't he? One cannot enter Su Dongpo's dreamlike state without visiting West Lake. Zhang Sheng believes West Lake is a mirror reflecting Su Dongpo's beautiful art. West Lake is not only a mirror of Hangzhou; wasn't Emperor Qianlong's perspective on the culture of the Western Hills a reflection of West Lake? The entire Yuanmingyuan Garden in Haidian District, including Fuhai Lake and later the Summer Palace, is essentially a miniature version of West Lake. The Summer Palace's garden art is world-class because the most beautiful garden of gardens, the Yuanmingyuan, was destroyed. Don't worry, the source of all beauty still lies in West Lake; the tranquil beauty of West Lake's waters seems truly genuine. Arriving at West Lake, it's like stepping back in time to the Wu-Yue Kingdom, to the era of Su Dongpo, to the beauty of the Song Dynasty in Lin'an. It's precisely because of this historical journey, because West Lake embodies the birth of beauty, the solitude of beauty, and the beauty of time and space, that I feel so incredibly beautiful at West Lake. It's like a dream, so beautiful, as if I were feasting, singing, and composing poems with Su Dongpo. Even when I wake up, it doesn't matter; I feel Su Dongpo is still there. Standing on the Su Causeway, looking back at Gushan Island, Bai Causeway, Broken Bridge in Lingering Snow, and Xiling Bridge…

"Su Zi, can I find the existence of immortal beauty?"