Last Friday, the whole class went on a study trip to an ancient town hidden in the hills. The moment they stepped onto the stone street, they felt they had walked into another period. Wooden houses stood on both sides, their windows decorated with carved patterns. A gentle stream ran through the town, and old bridges crossed it every few hundred metres. Even the air seemed to carry the smell of history.
Their first stop was the folk museum, which used to be the home of a famous writer. Inside, broken pottery and hand-made tools were shown in glass cases, and the original letters written by the writer were kept on the second floor. 'Look at this farming tool,' Lily said, pointing at a wooden plough. 'It was used by farmers two hundred years ago.' The collection, gathered from local families, told the story of ordinary people's lives.
After lunch, the students visited a workshop where paper umbrellas are still made by hand. An old craftsman showed them every step, from cutting bamboo to painting the cover. 'This skill has been passed down in my family for four generations,' he said. The students were amazed by his steady hands and tried to paint their own umbrellas, though the results were far from perfect. Everyone laughed, but the joy of learning was real.
In the evening, Cozy sat with the students by the river and talked about the meaning of tradition. 'A tradition is not a museum piece,' he said. 'It lives every time we honour it, share it and pass it on. Tonight, write a journal page about what you have seen, and try to recognise the small details that make this town typical of our culture.' Under the lanterns, the students wrote quietly, their pens moving like boats on the dark water.
On the way home, the students were unusually quiet, each lost in thought. Li Lei looked at the photos on his phone and realised that history is not far away; it is in the style of a roof, the position of a window, the landscape behind the town. 'We do not need to travel far to find treasure,' he said to Jack. 'We only need to look at the old things around us with new eyes.' Jack nodded, and the bus rolled on towards the bright city lights.