Wuyi Mountain

Wuyi Mountain is one of China's most treasured scenic destinations, celebrated for its natural beauty and cultural significance. During the reign of Emperor Qianlong of the Qing Dynasty, it’s said that the area was strictly protected from development. Because of this, many of its mountains, rivers, and landscapes have remained in a pristine, untouched state. The mountain boasts 100% green coverage and stays lush and verdant all year round.

In the past, this region was quite poor. But in recent decades, the growth of the tea industry has brought prosperity to the area. Interestingly, black tea in the West traces its origins to Wuyi Mountain. Today, Wuyi rock teas continue to flourish, with famous varieties like Da Hong Pao, Tie Guan Yin, Jin Jun Mei, Zheng Shan Xiao Zhong, and Rou Gui gaining international recognition. Wuyi’s black teas have truly taken center stage, captivating tea lovers worldwide.

In the realm of traditional Chinese landscape painting, styles are generally divided into two main schools: the Northern School and the Southern School. The Northern School has produced many renowned artists, both past and present. Esteemed figures include older masters like Liu Haisu, Guan Shanyue, and Zhang Daqian, as well as modern artists like Wang Yongnian. The Northern School features several sub-styles, all united by a focus on depicting the rocky, majestic mountains of the north. These mountains, with their clearly defined textures and imposing grandeur, are illustrated using various texturing techniques, such as hemp-fiber strokes, axe-cut strokes, and rice-dot strokes.

In contrast, the Southern School is best represented by artists like Bai Xue. Southern landscapes, common in regions such as Guangdong, Guangxi, Guizhou, and southern Hunan, are known for their karst landforms. These mountains are not particularly tall but have a soft, rolling appearance, resembling steamed buns. They are covered in dense vegetation and surrounded by water, creating serene, mirror-like reflections that enhance their picturesque beauty.

Tianxin Yongle Zen Temple is perched atop the summit of Wuyi Mountain’s Dawang Peak, accessible by a winding road that spirals up the mountain. The temple is said to have been originally built during the Tang Dynasty’s Zhenguan era and later rebuilt in the Ming Dynasty’s Yongle period. It is renowned far and wide as a celebrated temple, with its incense offerings flourishing. The temple is also known for producing its own tea, with its "Buddha tea" being notably expensive, which makes this temple one of the wealthiest in the region.

At the entrance of the main hall, Daxiong Baodian, a couplet carved on the pillars immediately caught my attention:

Upper line: “Seek freedom, but find it elusive; understand freedom, and it comes naturally.”

Lower line: “Ponder the Buddha, but he is not as imagined; understand the Buddha, and he is as he is.”

This couplet explores the dialectical relationship between seeking, pondering, and understanding. Can ordinary people truly grasp its depth?

In Wuyi Mountain, breakfast means “fen’er”—a beloved local delicacy. Early in the morning, the eateries selling fen’er are packed with diners, and at the more popular spots, people often have to wait in line.

A note on pronunciation: “Fen’er” features a distinctly local tone with the rhotacized "er" at the end. Make sure not to pronounce it as “fen...er...” in a broken or overly formal way—it’s meant to sound natural and endearing.

Fen’er refers to noodles made from rice flour. The rice is finely milled into a smooth flour, then pressed into springy white noodles. The cooking process is simple yet precise: the noodles are boiled in hot water, rinsed in cool water, and then served in a bowl. A ladle of aromatic broth is poured over the noodles, followed by a dollop of vibrant red chili paste, creating a dish so tempting it’s hard to resist.

The bowls used to serve fen’er are large, with a diameter of around 20 centimeters, wide at the rim and narrow at the base. The hearty servings make it a satisfying breakfast.

The true secret to delicious fen’er lies in the broth. In Wuyi, the broth comes in a variety of flavors: shiitake mushroom and shredded pork, pork liver and beef tripe, pork chop soup, and more. Each broth is fragrant but never greasy, adding depth and richness to the dish. With a bowl of spicy, aromatic, and tender fen’er warming their bellies, diners leave with glowing faces and cheerful spirits.

The town of Wuyishan sits just a few miles away from the scenic area. Outside the tourist zone, you won’t see any high-rise buildings or residential complexes — instead, nearly every building here is dedicated to the tea business. The architecture is charming and distinct: no towering structures, just two- or three-story buildings with white walls and tall parapets, reminiscent of traditional Huizhou-style design.

Most of these tea shops follow a simple layout: the upper floor is for processing tea, while the ground floor serves as a space for retail and wholesale sales. The sheer variety of tea is staggering! You’ll find an endless selection, with countless grades and types. Sorting through what’s authentic or not can be quite a challenge.

When you arrive at Wuyi Mountain, the first thing that strikes you is the overwhelming presence of green. Everywhere you look, the landscape is covered in verdant hues. The mountains are cloaked in greenery, and the waters reflect the vibrant foliage, creating a seamless harmony of colors. Apart from the houses and roads, it’s a world filled with trees, grass, and life.

Wuyi Mountain, with its Danxia landforms, offers an incredible contrast: amidst the sea of green, striking red, rugged rocks emerge. These bold red stones and the lush vegetation play off each other beautifully, creating a scene of breathtaking natural grandeur.

From the base of the mountain to its slopes, rows of tea trees stand neatly pruned and meticulously maintained. The glossy green leaves shine like the armor of soldiers, standing tall and ready for action. The people of Wuyi are hardworking and have a deep appreciation for beauty, evident in the well-manicured trees along the streets. These trees come in a variety of shapes—spherical, layered, bowl-shaped—each one unique and charming. Some tree species are so exotic that you won’t find them in the northern regions of China.

Thanks to the subtropical climate, Wuyi Mountain enjoys abundant rainfall, lush vegetation, and evergreen landscapes all year round. It truly feels like a natural green oxygen bar, offering fresh air, tranquility, and an endless sense of rejuvenation.

The clouds of Wuyi Mountain are perhaps the most affectionate clouds in the world!

When it rains, the clouds cling tightly to the mountains. Whether it’s a heavy downpour or a gentle drizzle, they lovingly shower the trees and tea plants with their refreshing droplets. When the rain finally stops, the clouds lighten, breaking apart into soft, cotton-like wisps. Yet even then, they linger, unwilling to leave, caressing the tea leaves and gently kissing their shiny, green surfaces, expressing their tenderness and devotion.

When the sun peeks out with a warm smile, the clouds and tea plants—like two lovers—finally bid each other a heartfelt goodbye. The clouds drift back up into the sky, their parting filled with quiet affection.

Wuyi Mountain is famous for its fragrant oolong tea, celebrated far and wide. But we owe some of that tea’s wonderful flavor to the gentle care and nourishment provided by Wuyi’s affectionate clouds.

After a refreshing autumn rain yesterday, the weather turned delightfully cool. This morning, the clouds were thin, and the mist had completely cleared. As we strolled along the roadside, something caught my eye: a delicate layer of tiny white specks clung to the branches of a purple ornamental tree. Could it be foam?

I stopped to take a closer look and realized — they were dewdrops! Pure, flawless, and glistening like tiny pearls, they sparkled in the morning light. I couldn’t help but smile at their charm. When I reached out to touch them, they playfully scattered, bouncing away. I tried to cup them in my hands, but they slipped through my fingers and danced away. For a moment, I felt as if I could hear their laughter.

Since ancient times, Wuyi Mountain has embraced a spirit of leisure that feels as eternal as the carvings on the cliffs along the Nine-Bend Creek. This essence of relaxation is etched deeply into its 36 peaks and 99 rock formations, flows through the winding waters of the creek, and drifts with the mist that wraps around the mountains.

Wuyi Mountain’s culture of leisure is expressed in many forms. Tangible legacies are found in the scenic landscapes, elegant pavilions, temples, and ancient ruins — each one whispering stories of the past and the beauty of a simpler, more contemplative way of life. Intangible heritage flows just as deeply: in poetry, inscriptions on stones, and ancient legends, all echoing with the rhythms of distant morning bells and evening drums.

Every stone, every breeze, and every swirl of mist in Wuyi Mountain invites you to step back, slow down, and experience a timeless art of living.

At the bottom of Citadel Hill is Wa­sat Al-Balad, the oldest part of Amman. Here’s where you can discover real Jordanian life through its old buildings, crumbling archeological ruins by the side of the road, cute cafes and bookstores, fresh produce markets, and stores selling scarves, gold, herbs and spices, fresh juices, and delicious desserts like Kunafeh (goats cheese. topped with wheat and pistachio).

With this in mind, we set off to collect some spring water ourselves. We drove about ten kilometers north from the scenic town, passing village after village dedicated to growing, producing, and selling tea. Along a narrow road, nestled at the foot of a mountain and surrounded by green trees, we found a stone marker that read "Eternal Spring" (永生泉). Beside it, a simple concrete basin caught a thin, steady stream of water flowing down from the mountain.

Just 10 kilometers from the Wuyi Mountain scenic area lies Xiamei Ancient Town. Surrounded by mountains on three sides and bisected by the gentle flow of the Mei River, the town's name — Xiamei, meaning "Lower Mei" — reflects its position downstream. This picturesque place is dotted with terraced tea fields climbing up the hillsides, earning it the title of the birthplace of oolong tea.

Xiamei’s history dates back centuries. The village was established during the Song Dynasty (960–1279), and by the Qing Dynasty (1644–1912), it had grown into a bustling hub for tea trade and transportation. Merchants from Shanxi partnered with local tea growers to set up tea houses, exporting Wuyi’s finest oolong tea across China and beyond. This small town even played a crucial role in international tea trade, sending oolong tea to Russia, Europe, Singapore, Malaysia, and other countries, marking the start of the famous Tea Horse Road.

The cultural heritage of Xiamei runs deep. Today, the town is home to around 300 households and over 6,000 people. The most prominent family, the Zou clan, can trace their lineage back to an official who served during Emperor Qianlong’s reign. Their sprawling family compound includes a grand ancestral hall and over 70 beautifully designed houses. The intricate brick carvings on the gates and the delicate wood carvings inside are treasures of craftsmanship, offering rich insights for historians and visitors alike.

Xiamei Ancient Town is a place where history, tea culture, and stunning landscapes come together, offering a glimpse into a vibrant past that still thrives today.

I used to wonder what it meant when people said osmanthus blooms "everywhere." Did the flowers cover the ground like fields of buckwheat or sesame?

It wasn’t until I visited Wuyi Mountain that I finally understood. Osmanthus trees here grow tall — around five to six meters high — and are found everywhere: along the streets, at the foot of the mountains, in fields, and in parks. When autumn arrives, these trees are covered with clusters of tiny, orange blossoms, just a bit larger than grains of rice.

In Wuyi Mountain, the osmanthus fragrance isn’t just a scent — it’s a beautiful part of the landscape that lifts your spirits and sparks your imagination.

During the eighth lunar month, the flowers bloom fully and release a sweet, delicate fragrance into the air. No matter where you go in Wuyi Mountain during this season, the air is filled with a gentle, lingering aroma. Sometimes the scent is rich and heady, and sometimes it’s soft and subtle. Either way, it wraps around you, bringing a sense of calm and renewed energy.

Breathing in this fragrant air feels like a magical experience. You can easily lose yourself in daydreams, imagining a vast meadow, blue skies, and lush green grass, where everything is peaceful and serene.

On a bright, sunny day, Wuyi Mountain takes on an entirely different character. The sky seems higher and bluer than ever, and the clouds drift away from the mountain peaks to put on a show of their own. They twist and transform into an endless array of shapes, inviting boundless imagination.

At one moment, the clouds gather and stretch across the sky like a never-ending mountain range, with majestic peaks standing tall, their tops adorned with lush greenery.

The next moment, the clouds flatten and stretch out, resembling a serene lake nestled between mountains, with gentle ripples on its surface and fish leaping playfully.

In another instant, the clouds cluster together to form a quaint village. Shapes of animals emerge: fluffy white lambs, graceful camels, and galloping horses, all brought to life by the shifting sky.

As I sit on the balcony of a seventh-floor building, gazing at the ever-changing clouds, I can’t help but wonder: Are my loved ones also looking up at the same clouds, sharing this moment across the miles?

Wuyi Mountain is a celebrated landmark in China, known as the birthplace of both oolong tea and black tea. The mountain itself is named after Wuyi Jun, a legendary figure in Chinese tea history.

In the ancient eras, Shennong, the mythical "Father of Tea," is believed to have discovered tea leaves. Later, during the medieval period, Wuyi Jun, revered as the Tea Deity, cultivated wild tea into organized plantations. In the Tang Dynasty, Lu Yu, the “Sage of Tea,” spread tea culture widely, transforming tea from a drink reserved for emperors and nobles into a beloved beverage for common households.

Wuyi Jun, considered an ancestor of the people of Wuyi Mountain, played a pivotal role in establishing China’s tea-growing tradition. His contributions earned him deep respect and admiration from generations of people, as well as emperors, generals, and scholars.

In recognition of his legacy, the "Chinese Tea Deity Hall" was built in June 2022 to honor Wuyi Jun’s achievements. Furthermore, in December 2021, UNESCO officially recognized Wuyi Jun’s outstanding contributions to tea cultivation and history, bestowing upon him the title of “Chinese Tea Deity.”

Watching the sunrise has always been one of my favorite things to do. I've witnessed the breathtaking sunrise atop Huangshan’s famous Bright Summit, where I saw the entire process unfold in stunning beauty. I’ve also seen the sunrise from Mount Tai, where we climbed through the night, stayed at the peak, and watched a fiery red sun float above a sea of clouds. It was incredible — though, amusingly, I was convinced the sun rose from the west that day, and I still haven’t made sense of it!

In the Wuyi Mountain scenic town, the streets are nestled against the mountains. Without the sun, it’s easy to lose your sense of direction. The sunrise and sunset here both happen around 6:00 AM, but because the mountains surround the town, at 6:00 AM, all you can see is a pale gray light over the southeastern peaks, with mist shrouding everything in a delicate veil.

Gradually, the gray turns into creamy white, soft yellow, warm gold, and then a gentle orange. As the hues deepen, hints of pale red emerge — but by this point, it’s already been an hour since the official sunrise time. The soft glow eventually turns into a burst of dazzling light. Just when I feel like dozing off, the brilliant sun has already risen above the mountaintops as if launched by a rocket!

Today, according to the lunar calendar, is the fifth day of the ninth month, and it’s raining in Wuyi Mountain, China!

Located in a subtropical region, Wuyi Mountain doesn’t have four distinct seasons. Instead, it experiences a rainy season and a dry season. During winter and spring, long stretches of drizzly, overcast days are common, sometimes going weeks without seeing the sun. The air can feel damp and cool. In contrast, summer and autumn bring much less rain, and the sun beats down relentlessly. During these hot months, people often eagerly await a refreshing rain shower to cool things down.

Autumn rain in Wuyi Mountain is gentle and delicate. The raindrops are small and fine, falling like thin threads, blurring the line between sky and earth in a misty gray haze. It feels like a giant veil has been drawn over the mountains, rivers, and tea fields.

The rain works its magic like a guardian of nature, quenching the thirst of trees, flowers, and tea plants, making them stand tall and vibrant again. It’s also like a caretaker, washing the streets, houses, and landscapes until they are spotless and refreshed.

I love the autumn rain in Wuyi Mountain. Each delicate drop feels like a quiet expression of care, nurturing everything in its path with a silent, tender embrace.

I had the pleasure of experiencing an unforgettable Double Ninth Festival in the charming town of Wuyi Mountain’s scenic area — a celebration full of warmth and community spirit that left a lasting impression!

On this special day, the atmosphere in Wuyi was lively and festive. As soon as we entered the temple grounds, we were greeted by fluttering banners, the hum of conversation, and the excitement of the crowd. The streets were lined with beautifully arranged food stalls, all clean and orderly, each offering delicious treats. Long lines formed in front of each stall, and to our surprise, all the vegetarian snacks were being handed out for free — such a heartwarming tradition!

We eagerly joined in, waiting in line to try an assortment of local delicacies: Qinggao cakes, spring rolls, Ruyi mushroom soup, dumplings, rice noodles, and more. After sampling a few, we were full and satisfied. Each dish was delicious, but the Ruyi mushroom soup stood out — a warm, flavorful broth made with a variety of fresh mushrooms.

Chatting with some of the volunteers, I learned that this event had been running for two years. The festival was organized by a kind-hearted Taoist nun named Baiyun from Qingyun Temple. Funds for the event were raised through donations, and local residents enthusiastically volunteered to prepare food, distribute it, and maintain order.

On November 5th, at 5 a.m., we set off to Qiyun Peak in Wuyi Mountain to catch the sunrise. The journey wasn’t long, but the thick fog made visibility less than 10 meters. The road was silent and the surroundings were cloaked in darkness. After about ten minutes, we arrived at the summit of Qiyun Peak, an old but cherished scenic spot. At the center of the mountaintop plaza stood a white Guanyin statue, over ten meters tall — imposing yet serene. To the right of the plaza was the Qiyun Pavilion, a hall dedicated to Guanyin.

The plaza was enclosed by stone railings. I quickly found a spot facing southeast and eagerly waited for the sunrise. The sky was already starting to lighten, but with the dense fog, I couldn’t see the sky or the land. We were enveloped in a vast sea of clouds. A lone mountain peak jutted out above the clouds, like a ship sailing on a vast ocean. Sometimes, the clouds concealed it; other times, the fog revealed it, creating a mirage-like effect. The clouds surged like waves, adding to the mystique of the scene.

Suddenly, a faint red glow appeared in the southeast. This must be the morning glow. I watched intently as the colors deepened, spreading like water seeping into paper. The soft red gradually turned to a brilliant orange-red. The sky brightened, and the sea of clouds seemed to retreat, revealing a peaceful calm. The “ships” in the cloud ocean turned out to be treetops on distant peaks, lush and green. The sky transformed into a clear, radiant blue.

Out of the glowing clouds and mist, a red crescent of the sun appeared. Cheers erupted from the crowd. In just moments, the crescent expanded to half a sun. “It’s rising so quickly!” I exclaimed. Before I could finish speaking, the full, round red sun had leapt above the sea of clouds. It was like watching the Earth’s rotation in real time.

At 6:50 a.m., the sun emerged as a glowing red sphere, still soft and without its usual glare. Ten minutes later, its brilliant rays shone through, and the fog began to dissolve, retreating into the valleys below. The town below bathed in golden sunlight, marking the start of a beautiful new day.

I was eager to try the flavors of Northern Fujian cuisine! My friend Xiao Wei took us to a small restaurant called “Li Po’s Eatery.” The place had a modest storefront with a cozy, guesthouse-style interior — clean, tidy, and inviting.The four of us ordered five dishes, a soup, and a pitcher of beer. Our selection included:

<sub>Stir-fried Beef with Pickled Radish Shreds

Green Peas with Tofu

Stir-fried Pork with Bamboo Shoots

Braised Pork Knuckle

Braised River Fish

Minced Pork and Greens Soup</sub>

We also had a big bowl of steamed rice.

Northern Fujian cuisine isn’t as widely known as other regional Chinese cuisines, but it’s delicious, affordable, and famously spicy! We asked for less spice, but the chef laughed and said, “If it’s not spicy, it’s not Fujian food!” In the end, we settled for a mildly spicy version.

The dishes were fantastic, though we were sweating from the heat! The standout was the tofu — crispy and golden on the outside, yet tender and smooth on the inside. The vegetable soup was light, fresh, and flavorful.

After enjoying this satisfying meal, we were surprised that the bill for all four of us was just 220 yuan (about $30 USD). A delicious, spicy feast at a great price!

Anyone familiar with Wuyi Mountain likely knows of its most famous tea: Da Hong Pao. On November 10th, I visited the Da Hong Pao Mother Tree site, an iconic stop for tea enthusiasts. Since 2006, harvesting leaves from these original trees has been banned to preserve them, turning the area into a must-see tourist destination. Located in the northern part of Wuyi’s scenic area, reaching the site requires a scenic 5-kilometer hike up the mountain.

Da Hong Pao’s legendary status is tied to an old story. According to the tale, a scholar on his way to take the imperial exams fell ill while passing through Wuyi Mountain. A kind monk from nearby Tianxin Temple cured him with tea from the mountain. The scholar recovered, passed the exams with top honors, and as a gesture of gratitude, returned to the mountain and draped a royal red robe over the tea bush. This act of appreciation gave the tea its name, Da Hong Pao — meaning “Big Red Robe.” The legend fostered local traditions of tea ceremonies, offerings, and rituals to honor this special tea.

Entering the site, I was greeted by towering mountains featuring the dramatic Danxia landforms — steep cliffs and striking rock formations. Ancient poets and scholars have left their mark here, carving poems and philosophical musings into the rocks.

After a determined climb, I finally arrived at the Mother Tree site. There, nestled halfway up the mountain, stood six tea bushes behind a bright red railing. These tea plants are over 300 years old. In the 1980s, experts successfully propagated these trees through cuttings, allowing large-scale cultivation and ensuring the originals were safeguarded.

Da Hong Pao belongs to the oolong tea family, specifically the rock tea (yancha) variety. Known for its rich, robust flavor and smooth aroma, Da Hong Pao is often called the “King of Wuyi Rock Tea.”

When it comes to tea culture, I admit that many of us from northern China are novices. Although I’ve studied Lu Yu's “The Classic of Tea”, the foundational text written by the Tang Dynasty’s “Tea Sage”, and taken detailed notes, the modern tea industry has evolved at a breakneck pace. Tea culture today is so diverse and vibrant that it can be overwhelming. Even Lu Yu would be hard-pressed to narrow it down to just the “Top Ten Famous Teas of China” as he once did — there are simply too many exceptional teas now.

Tea classification has also grown increasingly complex. With new varieties constantly being introduced, tea culture today feels like an endless ocean. From the classic Longjing (Dragon Well) green tea, to the aged richness of Pu-erh, to the nuanced flavors of oolong tea, each type carries a legacy spanning centuries. Yet, people’s tastes continue to evolve.

Now that I’m in Wuyi Mountain, let’s explore Wuyi Rock Tea (yancha). Tea is generally categorized based on its fermentation level into six main types: green, black, yellow, white, dark (Pu-erh), and oolong. Wuyi Rock Tea, despite being called “red tea” locally, belongs to the oolong tea category. It comes from northern Fujian (Minbei) and is regarded as the finest among the region's oolong teas.

Some of the most famous Wuyi Rock Teas include:

Da Hong Pao (Big Red Robe)
Shui Xian (Water Fairy)
Rou Gui (Cinnamon)

These teas are known for their rich flavor and aromatic complexity. What sets Wuyi Rock Tea apart is the high-roasting process, which enhances the tea’s quality and allows it to be stored for long periods. Each variety offers a distinctive fragrance and taste, making every cup a unique experience.

Wuyi Rock Tea is further divided into three categories:

Zheng Yan Cha (Authentic Rock Tea) – Grown within the core Wuyi Mountain area, prized for its authentic terroir.
Ban Yan Cha (Half Rock Tea) – Grown just outside the core area.
Zhou Cha (Riverbank Tea) – Grown in lower-altitude regions along the riverbanks.

Exploring Wuyi Rock Tea is like discovering a hidden treasure trove. Each sip carries the essence of the mountain's rich history and natural beauty.