Stay at Flower Inn Mendong and enjoy a poetic residence amidst the blue bricks and black tiles!

Pushing open the wooden lattice windows, the morning mist of Laomendong hides the entire poetic tale of Jinling. At the foot of the 600-year-old Ming Dynasty city wall, this courtyard of blue bricks and black tiles was once the residence of craftsmen from the Jiangnan Weaving Bureau, now transformed into Flower Inn·Mendong Hotel, where even the moss in the crevices of the steps is steeped in the misty charm of the Six Dynasties. Sitting in the courtyard sipping Yuhua tea at dawn, you might suddenly catch sight of the crooked pomegranate tree in the corner—it’s said to have witnessed the decisive moment when Li Xiangjun threw away her peach blossom fan. Walking over the worn grooves of the bluestone slabs on Santiaoying Road, you’ll turn a corner and stumble into the lively theater of Laomendong. Jiang Youji’s beef potstickers are still fried on ancestral iron griddles, their crispy skins hiding juices that trace back to Ming Dynasty military rations. Nearby, the Jieziyuan stage is performing *The Peony Pavilion*—this is where Li Yu once taught his family troupe to rehearse, declaring, "Every stone and tree in the garden is a character in the play." For a special treat, climb the remnants of the Ming city wall at dusk to watch the sunset gild the rooftops of the old southern city, where the silhouettes of horse-head walls hold reflections of Shen Wansan’s grain fleet. Hidden deep in the alleyways, the avant-garde Librairie Avant-Garde bookstore is a renovated old mansion, once the "Baowentang" publishing house during the Republic of China era. Here, you might stumble upon a yellowed copy of *Jinling Scenes and Poems*, only to discover that the hotel’s location was once marked as the "Weavers’ Secret Gate"—a hidden passage used by Ming craftsmen to transport brocade. The butler chuckles as he explains that the wooden key fobs are made from leftover sandalwood brought back by Zheng He’s voyages. On your way back at night, you might encounter tipsy poets murmuring, "Swallows that once graced the halls of kings," before ducking into Old Lan’s Sweet Lotus Root Congee shop for a bowl of osmanthus red bean paste.