enya FASHION QUEEN

EDITOR Enya Huang｜PHOTO AMAN

有些旅程，不為奔波，也不為遠方。只是當生活的節奏太快，心開始渴望一處能慢下來的所在。杭州這座被詩人讚為「上有天堂，下有蘇杭」的城市，總能以山水為心、以禪意為骨，讓人不知不覺地沉靜。
而隱於靈隱寺旁的「法雲安縵」，更像是藏在塵世邊緣的一方淨土。沒有過多裝飾，卻自帶一種時光靜止的氣場。在這裡，旅人不只是住宿，而是展開一場身心的回歸之旅。

Hangzhou | Amanfayun
When travel becomes an act of stillness, only then can we witness the true landscape of the soul.

Some journeys are not about distance, nor are they driven by the rush of arrival. Rather, they arise from a quiet longing—to step away from the hurried pace of everyday life and find a place where time itself seems to pause. In Hangzhou, a city lauded by poets as “Heaven above, Suzhou and Hangzhou below,” one discovers such stillness—where mountains cradle the spirit and Zen permeates the air.
Tucked beside the serene Lingyin Temple lies Amanfayun, a retreat that feels more like a hidden sanctuary than a hotel. There are no elaborate flourishes, only a quiet, timeless atmosphere. Here, one does not merely stay, but begins a journey inward—toward rest, reflection, and return.

初入古城，一念安然

青磚黛瓦裡的第一縷靜謐。上有天堂，下有蘇杭。直到親自走進靈隱寺旁的法云古城，入住安縵，我才明白所謂「天堂」，不是傳說中的彼岸，而是藏在雲霧繚繞的山林深處。車緩緩駛入古巷，青磚黛瓦間透著靜謐。安縵隱於樹影之間，無招牌、無喧囂，只有木門、石徑與光影。推開門，一縷茶香夾著檀香撲面而來，彷彿一場對心的問候，讓人瞬間沉靜。步入庭院，流水潺潺，竹影搖曳，時光似乎在此放慢了腳步。迎面而來的服務人員聲音輕柔，遞上一杯溫熱的龍井茶，茶香與山氣交融，像是一場無聲的洗禮。遠處鐘聲迴盪，伴著風過松林的沙沙聲，讓人不由得放下塵囂與慣性的思緒。那一刻，我明白，「安然」並非外在的寧靜，而是內心的一種歸位，一種在天地之間重新找到自己的平衡與呼吸。

First Glimpse of the Ancient City — A Quiet State of Being

Beneath the weathered blue-tiled roofs lies a hush of timeless serenity. Above, the heavens; below, Suzhou and Hangzhou. It wasn’t until I stepped through the gates of Amanfayun—this hidden enclave beside Lingyin Temple—that I understood what the “Heavenly Abode” truly meant. It is not a distant shore of legend, but a sanctuary veiled in mist, cradled deep within the folds of the mountains.
The car rolled slowly through the narrow lanes, the roofs of grey brick and blue tile filtering the light into stillness. The resort hid quietly among the shadows of ancient trees—no signboard, no sound of commerce, only a wooden gate, stone path, and the play of light and shade. Pushing open the door, a faint fragrance of tea and sandalwood drifted through the air, like an invitation to a silent dialogue with one’s inner self.
Stepping into the courtyard, I heard the murmur of water and the whisper of bamboo; time itself seemed to slow its pace. A staff member approached softly, offering a cup of warm Longjing tea. The aroma intertwined with the rising steam, wrapping me in a ceremony of calm. From afar came the gentle toll of temple bells, mingling with the rustle of pine trees—a harmony that dissolved thought and loosened the grip of habit.
In that moment, I understood—peace is not the stillness of the world outside, but the quiet alignment within. It is a kind of homecoming, a rediscovery of balance between heaven and earth, where the soul exhales and simply exists.

 

尺八清音 心隨音遠

音如山風，拂過心間。走進法云安縵「藝文」空間，正好聽見老師在吹奏尺八。那是我第一次近距離聆聽這樣的聲音：清澈、悠遠，如風穿林、如水入心。看著滿紙日文的樂譜，我忍不住莞爾，心想自己大概就像劉姥姥進了大觀園，一切都那麼新奇又陌生。音聲在空氣中流轉，時間也彷彿慢了下來。這一刻，旅行不再是抵達某處，而是讓自己，靜靜存在。閉上眼，尺八的音韻彷彿化成一道無形的風，帶我穿越歲月的山河。每一個呼吸之間，都藏著深深的節制與自在，那是一種源自心底的修行。老師神情專注，指尖輕移間流露著一種「無為而有」的從容。那聲音不求取悅，卻能直抵人心深處，像是在對話，也像在安撫。當最後一聲漸漸散入空氣，室內只剩下微光與寂靜，我才恍然發現，原來真正的遠行，不在路途萬里之外，而在聽懂一段旋律的當下。

The Whisper of the Shakuhachi — Where the Heart Wanders with the Sound

The sound of the shakuhachi drifts like mountain wind, brushing gently across the heart.
Stepping into Amanfayun’s Art & Culture Space, I chance upon a teacher playing this ancient flute. It is my first time hearing its tone so closely—clear and unhurried, as if wind moves through a forest, as if water seeps into the soul. I glance at the music sheet filled with Japanese characters and smile quietly to myself, feeling like a newcomer wandering into a hidden garden—curious, humbled, and enthralled.
The melody flows through the air, and time seems to slow. In that suspended moment, travel ceases to be about reaching somewhere; it becomes about being—simply, quietly, wholly present. Closing my eyes, the shakuhachi turns into an invisible breeze carrying me across the mountains of memory. Every breath holds a balance between restraint and release—a quiet form of meditation. The teacher’s gaze is calm, his movements effortless, his music free from desire to please yet deeply moving. When the final note dissolves into the stillness, only the dim light and silence remain. I realize then that true journeys are not measured by distance, but by the instant we understand a single melody.

 

 

茶香入浴 溫柔時光

茶香裡，洗去日子的疲憊。傍晚時分，法云安縵貼心準備以龍井茶為基底的草本溫浴。蒸氣裊裊，茶香滲進皮膚，洗去一路風塵。夜幕低垂，回到房間，床上悄悄放著一串佛珠作為迎賓禮。那不是昂貴的贈品，卻像一個安靜的祝福，讓人放下塵心，在夜色裡安然入眠。浴池邊的燭光閃爍，倒映著細緻的水氣與柔和的光影，彷彿時間也被浸潤得溫柔起來。手指撥動水面，看著茶葉在熱氣中舒展，如同身心逐漸被喚醒又重新安頓。那份淡淡的香氣，不只停留在肌膚，更滲入心底，讓人領悟到真正的放鬆，不在遠行與繁華，而是在這一刻，讓自己與世界都靜下來。

 

Tea-Infused Serenity — A Gentle Hour in the Steam

In the scent of tea, weariness quietly melts away.
As dusk descends, Amanfayun prepares a herbal bath infused with Longjing tea—fragrant steam rising in soft swirls, seeping gently into the skin, washing away the dust of travel. Returning to my room, I find a simple mala bead bracelet resting on the bed as a welcome gift. It is not costly, yet it feels like a blessing—a quiet wish for peace of mind and restful sleep beneath the night sky.
By the bathtub, candlelight flickers against the mist and polished stone, tenderly softening time itself. I trail my fingers across the water’s surface, watching tea leaves unfurl in the heat—awakening and then settling again, much like the mind finding its rhythm. The subtle fragrance lingers not only on the skin but deep within the heart, reminding me that true relaxation does not come from distance or luxury, but from allowing both body and spirit to be still—right here, right now.

 

 

清晨禪行 永福之境

桂花香裡，心也慢下來。翌日清晨，我們前往法云安縵旁的靈隱寺與永福寺參拜。晨霧在山間流動，鐘聲從遠方傳來。靈隱寺始建於東晉，為「江南禪宗五山之一」，松柏蒼翠，梵音繚繞；而毗鄰的永福寺，幽靜而清雅，滿地桂花，香氣如夢。那是一場靜心之旅，求參悟，只求片刻的寧靜。踏在石徑上，每一步都似乎帶著歲月的回聲，微風拂過臉頰，帶來桂花與古木的清香，令人不自覺地放慢呼吸。僧侶們的誦經聲如遠山回響，提醒著人心的安定與單純。這片刻的禪意，讓人明白，旅行的意義不在於匆忙走過景點，而在於與時間、與自然、與自己的心靈，靜靜對話，體會永福之境的恬淡與祥和。

Morning Zen — The Tranquility of Yongfu

In the sweet scent of osmanthus, the heart finds its calm.
At dawn, we visit Lingyin Temple and Yongfu Temple, both neighboring Amanfayun. Morning mist glides between mountains as temple bells echo in the distance. Lingyin, founded in the Eastern Jin dynasty, is one of the “Five Zen Mountains of Jiangnan,” surrounded by ancient pines and resonant chants. Beside it, Yongfu Temple rests in quiet grace, its grounds carpeted with osmanthus petals, their fragrance dreamlike.
This is not a journey of sightseeing, but one of stillness—seeking no enlightenment, only a moment of peace. Every step upon the stone path carries the echo of time. A soft breeze brushes the face, bringing the mingled scent of flowers and aged cypress, urging one to slow their breath. The monks’ chanting hums like a distant mountain wind, reminding us of simplicity and serenity. In that stillness, I realize travel’s true meaning lies not in the number of places we pass, but in the dialogue we share—with time, with nature, and with our own soul—in this tranquil realm of eternal grace.

登高望遠 財神聽願

鐘聲迴盪，願望隨風遠。之後搭乘纜車登上「天下第一財神廟」。西湖煙波、茶園翠綠，映襯藍天白雲，美得令人屏息。寺鐘迴盪，人們合掌祈願。那一刻，我也在心裡默念：願自己保持這樣的平靜，不被紅塵所擾。鐘聲未落，煩惱早已隨風遠去。站在山巔，俯瞰整片湖光山色，心中生出一種寬闊與釋然。微風拂面，帶來花香與松香交融的氣息，似乎連呼吸都變得清明。每一次敲鐘的回聲都像是在提醒：心若安，則境自寧。此刻，願望不僅是祈求外在的順遂，更是對自己心境的一份承諾與守護。

The Temple of Fortune — Echoes of a Wish

The bell tolls, and wishes drift away with the wind.
Later, we take the cable car up to the Temple of Wealth, known as “The World’s First God of Fortune Temple.” From the summit, the misty ripples of West Lake meet the emerald slopes of tea plantations under a flawless blue sky—a view so breathtaking, it silences thought.
As the temple bell resounds, worshippers fold their palms in prayer. I too whisper a wish within—may I keep this stillness, untouched by worldly dust. Before the bell’s echo fades, my worries have already dispersed into the wind. Standing atop the mountain, gazing at the vast lake below, I feel a widening sense of release. The breeze carries a mingled fragrance of pine and blossoms, each breath turning crystalline. Every peal of the bell seems to murmur: When the heart is at peace, so too is the world. In that instant, wishing becomes less about seeking fortune, and more about safeguarding the quiet clarity within.

 

頌缽之夜 靜心回響

低沉的共鳴，回到內心深處。夜裡，參加了法云安縵的頌缽儀式。老師輕敲缽緣，低沉的共鳴在空氣中一圈圈擴散。閉上眼，呼吸與振動交融，思緒漸息。那是一種從內而外的療癒，不靠語言，只靠共鳴。此刻，我才真正懂得「法喜自在」的含義。振動像水波般在身體流動，每一個細胞都被柔和地喚醒，心頭的緊繃隨之溶解。燭光映照下的房間靜謐而溫暖，仿佛世界只剩下當下的呼吸與聲音。當最後一聲頌缽的迴響消散，心底卻留下一片澄明與安寧，那份平和像夜色般深沉而持久，讓人願意在寂靜中細細品味生命的每一次呼吸與存在。

The Night of Singing Bowls — Resonance of Stillness

A deep vibration reaches inward, touching the soul’s quietest chamber.
That evening, I join Amanfayun’s singing bowl ceremony. The teacher gently strikes the rim of the bowl, and a low, resonant hum ripples through the air. Eyes closed, breath and vibration merge until thoughts fall away. It is healing without words—only sound and silence entwined.
For the first time, I understand the meaning of Dharma joy and freedom. The resonance moves like water within the body, awakening each cell, dissolving every tension. In the candlelit room, warmth and stillness coexist—the world reduced to breath and tone. When the final echo fades, a profound clarity remains. Peace settles deep and quiet, like night itself, inviting me to savor each breath as a moment of pure existence.

山水有悟 心歸於簡

旅程的終點，是回到心的原處。旅行的意義，也許不在於走多遠，而在於能否讓心靜下來。夜風拂過窗櫺，月光灑在古牆上，我在靜謐中微笑。風月無邊，不是景無限，而是心無限；法喜自在，不是尋得答案，而是懂得放下。在法云安縵，旅程的終點，不是離開，而是回到心的原處。當山靜、水明、心清——這裡，就是天堂。晨霧漸散，鳥鳴聲聲入耳，每一縷光線都溫柔地撫過心頭。回望一路的風景，從古城的青磚黛瓦，到禪寺的鐘聲，再到茶香入浴的溫暖，所有感官的經歷都被細細消化，融入內心的安然。這一刻，時間像被拉長，世界像被柔化，我終於明白，真正的旅行，不在於外在的山水，而在於心能在片刻間，找到屬於自己的清明與自在。

Where Mountains Teach Stillness, and the Heart Returns Home

The end of a journey is a return—to the heart’s original place.
Perhaps the purpose of travel is not how far we go, but how deeply we can be still. As night wind brushes the window frame and moonlight spills over ancient walls, I smile into the quiet.
Boundless wind and moon do not mean endless scenery, but an unbounded heart.
To live in Dharma joy is not to find answers, but to learn the art of letting go.
At Amanfayun, the journey’s end is not departure—it is homecoming.
When mountains fall silent, waters turn clear, and the heart becomes light—this, truly, is paradise.
Morning mist lifts, birds begin to sing, and every ray of light touches gently upon the soul. Looking back at the path traveled—from the moss-green rooftops of old Hangzhou to the temple bells and tea-scented baths—each sensory note blends into a quiet peace within. In this moment, time stretches, the world softens, and I finally understand: the truest journey lies not in the outer landscape, but in finding one’s own stillness, one breath at a time.