Past the silent, weathered stones of the century-old post office and beyond the contemplative quiet of museum halls, a different rhythm unfolds in the mountain villages of Kuliang (also known as Guling), just outside downtown Fuzhou, Fujian province.
It is poured into teacups, folded into meals, carried in music drifting through pine forests, and embedded in restored stone houses where modern lives now take root.
On the wooden veranda of her guesthouse, surrounded by towering trees and flowering plants, Wang Xiaojing pours jasmine tea for her guests.
"Try this," she says with a smile."It's made from flowers, and it brings good fortune."
Nearby, her husband strums a guitar, singing a self-composed song about growing up on this mountain. For visitors who have traveled from afar, the moment feels both intimate and timeless.
Wang's Sharon Cloud House has become a living window into Kuliang's quiet revival, highlighting memory, lifestyle and human connection.
Although Wang married into a local family whose roots in Kuliang stretch back generations, her own life once unfolded far from the mountain. For years, she worked in downtown Fuzhou as a high-end wedding planner, immersed in schedules, contracts and city rhythms.
The turning point came nearly a decade ago during a trip to Austria. Staying in a rural guesthouse, she was struck by the simplicity of village life — blooming gardens, quiet courtyards and music drifting through open windows.
"I realized this was the life people truly long for. Naturally, I thought of Kuliang, where my husband came from," she says.
In 2017, Wang returned to the family's long-neglected house on the mountain. She began modestly, planting flowers one pot at a time. Over the years, the collection grew to more than a thousand plants.
"At first, it was just for myself," she says. "Later, I realized that if I loved this way of life, others might too."
By 2018, Wang had become one of Kuliang's earliest boutique guesthouse operators. Rather than pursuing a large-scale renovation, she preserved the architectural wisdom of the old Western-style villas that dot the mountain, featuring open verandas, shaded corridors, and shared spaces designed for lingering conversations, while blending them with understated Chinese aesthetics.
This balance has attracted urban travelers seeking respite and descendants of Western families whose ancestors once spent summers in Kuliang to Sharon Cloud House.
Tea gradually became Wang's cultural bridge. Over cups of jasmine tea, she wove together stories of Kuliang's past, Sino-foreign encounters, and the mountain's long tradition of afternoon gatherings. Today, her tea has traveled home with guests to 17 cities across six countries.
She vividly remembers one stormy evening in 2023, when a sudden power outage plunged the guesthouse into darkness.
Candles were lit, and dinner continued by the flickering flames.
"The elderly guests were delighted," Wang recalls. "They told us this must have been exactly how their parents lived here a century ago."
If Wang preserves Kuliang through a slow, attentive way of living, Yu Jianhui approaches the mountain as a place that naturally invites dialogue.
A former general manager at a language services company in downtown Fuzhou, Yu spent years working in multilingual environments. As Kuliang's layered history began gaining wider attention, he felt the mountain still held untapped potential for contemporary cultural exchange.
"Kuliang once gathered people from various countries," Yu says. "I felt my background in languages could find a role here."
In 2023, he opened Qifenshu, a garden-style restaurant centered on succulents, live music and shared tables. Today, the courtyard regularly draws young locals, music lovers and plant enthusiasts. On some evenings, conversations shift effortlessly between Chinese and foreign languages.
Yu's background has made a vast difference. His restaurant has quietly become an informal stop for foreign residents and visitors, from German engineers working in Fuzhou to travelers from the Middle East and Africa.
For Yu, food is a universal entry point. Rather than serving the same traditional mountain dishes, he experiments thoughtfully.
Chayote, a local vegetable introduced to Kuliang by Westerners more than a century ago, appears as a pizza topping.
"If people are curious about what they're eating, they will ask questions," Yu says. "That's when the story begins."
Drawing on historical accounts of foreign residents drinking milk tea on the mountain, Yu also re-created the blend using jasmine tea and milk. It was later served at a China-US cultural exchange event in Kuliang.
"These small adaptations lower the threshold for people to approach history," Yu explains.
Kuliang's evolving atmosphere has also drawn the attention of Zhou Huamei, a veteran interior and villa designer based in Fuzhou.
Zhou spent nearly eight years searching for the right location before committing to the mountain. About a year ago, he opened the Shan Yu Hotel, targeting younger visitors seeking what he describes as "micro-vacations" — short, nearby escapes focused on atmosphere, aesthetics and emotional comfort.
"You don't need to travel far," Zhou says. "Poetry and distance are already here."
At the hotel, large windows frame the surrounding forest while water features provide gentle, natural white noise. During renovation, original stonework was preserved, and mature trees remained.
"In the mountains, design should take a step back. Nature is already the best installation," Zhou notes.
Beyond serving as accommodation, the hotel functions as a cultural space. Calligraphy, lacquer painting, flower art, tea culture, the Chinese guqin (a plucked seven-string instrument), and a Western piano coexist under one roof, reflecting what Zhou sees as Kuliang's long-standing East-West fusion.
The hotel's 18 rooms, ranging from suites to camping-style spaces, are often fully booked on weekends and holidays.
Zhou attributes the project's viability to Kuliang's improved infrastructure and governance. Roads, public security, sanitation, and landscaping are well maintained, while the presence of long-term residents ensures a stable labor pool.
"It's close to the city, but once you're here, everything slows down," he says.
For Zeng Lingfeng, the decision to move to Kuliang in 2022 meant trading urban certainty for a slower, more grounded life.
Originally from Gutian county, about a two-hour drive away, Zeng moved her entire family to the mountain after years working in the service industry.
"We traveled a lot and were drawn to the homestay lifestyle," she recalls."The first time I stayed in Kuliang, I felt the rhythm immediately slow."
Her guesthouse, Shiguang Guli (Time's Old Home), sits midway up the mountain at an elevation of over 600 meters. The site was once a dilapidated stone-and-wood structure used for pig farming.
