"There was not a whiff of smoke or mist, and the colour of the sky matched the hills. We drifted with the current, which bore us now in one direction, now in another. Thus we traversed the hundred odd li from Fuyang to Tunglu, through some of the best scenery in the world…. There were hundreds of jutting peaks. The torrents dashed against the rocks as they came rushing down the hill-sides, humming and gurgling. The birds sang melodiously in chorus. The chirping of cicadas was interrupted now and then by the ape’s shrill cries. Even as the eagle desists from its soaring flight when confronted with a massive mountain, so those engaged in governmental affairs would forgo their worldly ambitions if they set eyes on one of the mysterious ravines, shrouded in perpetual twilight by thick overhanging trees forming a screen through which the sun but seldom penetrates."
—Wu Chun (469-520 CE)