For an Unforgettable Experience in Leshan, Don't Miss Emeishan Yuquanwan Hotel

## Hot Springs at Night I arrived at Yuquanwan Hotel as dusk was settling. The nights in Emeishan are always cold, especially in early winter. Several lamps lined up in front of the hotel door, casting a yellow glow that illuminated the shadows of three or five travelers. The shadows stretched long and short on the stone steps, resembling a few ghosts silently queuing and waiting for something. The receptionist was a young woman with a smile on her face, but it didn't seem genuine. She handed over the room card and said things like, "The hot springs are open during these hours," and "Breakfast is on the second floor." Her voice was monotonous, as if she had repeated these words countless times, and her tongue had grown calloused. I took the room card, which was cold and imprinted with golden patterns, shimmering slightly in the light, like some kind of spell. The room was quite spacious, with a large bed in the center, glaringly white. A painting hung on the wall, depicting the scenery of Emeishan. The Golden Summit was faintly visible in the clouds, but I didn't know which artist had painted it. They had managed to make the mountain so rigid, and even the clouds looked like solidified plaster. I put down my luggage and heard the sound of rushing water from next door, probably someone taking a bath. The sound of water was intermittent, sounding a bit like someone sobbing. After dinner, I went to soak in the hot springs. There were many pools scattered throughout the courtyard, with hot steam rising and condensing into white mist in the cold air. I chose an empty pool, took off my bathrobe, and slowly immersed myself in the water. The water temperature was just right, neither too hot nor too cold, but I felt like something was missing. The surrounding artificial rocks were arranged very neatly, and the lights shone from below, making the stones look like stage props, ready to be removed at any time. A wooden sign stood by the pool, inscribed with words like, "This spring contains sulfur and other minerals, which are beneficial to your health." Looking at the writing, I suddenly remembered the hot springs in my hometown when I was a child. Those were real wild springs, with hot water gushing from the cracks in the rocks, carrying a pungent smell of sulfur that made the skin turn red. Although this pool of water is also called a hot spring, it is like a tamed beast, so docile that it has lost its nature. As the night deepened, fewer people were in the pools. I looked up at the sky, but I couldn't see many stars in the night sky of Emeishan, probably because the lights were too bright. A young couple was talking and laughing softly in the next pool, and their laughter was wrapped in the water vapor, floating over as if it were an illusion. I suddenly felt that no matter how good these hot springs were, they were just a pool of hot water in reinforced concrete, which was completely different from the steaming heat in the mountains and fields. On the way back to my room, I passed a long corridor with photos of guests hanging on both sides, all smiling and posing in the same way in front of the same background. Their smiles seemed to be carved from the same mold, with the same angle of their mouths without any difference. In my sleep, I seemed to hear the hot spring water bubbling, and it sounded like many people were whispering at the same time, saying things I couldn't understand.