When I first arrived to Shenzhen on an airplane midnight, Pearl River Delta was an enormous glowing sphere of lights from my aerial view. I was immediately drawn to the place with the fascination of a child; never had I seen a place were the lights still burn this bright this late into the night from all directions. Ancient legends have it that the Pearl River Delta was formed by two magical dragons, one silver and the other golden, transformed into the rivers that nurtured this blessed land by a goddess. Looking at that glowing sphere of fire at the edge of night, I almost believed that legend. Behind each of those little lights, there may be a person, may be a family, all existing in the humming hive of the city. This was the moment when I decided that after I settled in, I will take my time to explore this place on my own.
   My chance finally came at end of summer break. I woke up extra early that morning to find the sky in the most crisp shade of blue. Puffy clouds adorned the sky like marshmallows as I stared out my window eagerly. Even this early in the morning, busy people already lined the streets with their bikes and umbrellas, ready for this new day. Today can be my perfect day, I thought, all I need is to take a chance. So within an hour, I packed myself some food, got my sundress on, and set off for a journey out of Shenzhen to other cities in Guangdong.
   Following the map, I told my driver to drop me off at a temple tourist attraction; I even traced a careful travel route with a red marker on my map. But somewhere along the winding roads after more than two hours of riding, a series of small villages along the riverside caught my eyes. Even though I did not have a clue where the villages placed on the map, I felt this abrupt urge to ditch my original travel route and just explore those villages. So, following my instinct, I got off the car in excitement and begun moving towards those faraway houses. It wasn’t until the car was completely out of sight that I realized I had left my cell phone in it. Panic surged through me immediately when I realized that I was in the middle of no where without a communication tool.  Normally this is never a good sign, but strange it was that on second thought I did not regret this decision at all.
   The villages looked much closer than they were in reality, but I enjoyed the long walk. Flower fields where lavender and irises flourished stretched out in front of me like an ocean of fragrance, making it difficult to believe it wasn’t early spring. Butterflies of different shades frolicked around me and the sunbeams brushed across my cheeks like a gentle caress. Feeling pleased with my adventure so far, I took off my hat and lifted my head up to the sky like I used to as a child. Bathing in the sun’s warmth, I felt relieved, so I gradually relaxed. I began to think that perhaps losing my phone was a positive thing. Perhaps for one day, just one day, I can be free from constant calls and text messages pulling me away from everything else I saw. Perhaps just for one day, there will be nothing between me and the open road.
   It was well into the afternoon when I finally made it out of the flower fields and in to the villages. A smile found its way on to my lips as I surveyed the nearly empty streets signaling that this was an area untouched by mass tourism. I liked unexplored territories; there is no fun in going to a place where everyone has been. I strolled casually along the main streets of the town while villagers casted me curious glances. Ancient Chinese styled architecture and modern town houses with brightly colored roofs lined the streets. Suddenly, a tall building with a cross at its top came into sight. “A church!” I gasped in surprise as I stepped back to inspect it. This church was obviously built long ago and it wasn’t very large, but its antique beauties did not diminish with time. Looking up at it, three pointed arches rose into the sky as swirling patterns of humans and animals were carved into the marble walls. Filled with curiosity, I pushed open the door and slid in, careful not to make a single noise. There was no one in there that afternoon, and though I am not religious, something about the peace and sacredness in the halls kept me silent. I took a couple hesitant steps towards the center of the room and looked around. All around me hung heavy velvet drapes and oil paintings, and everywhere I looked there were more carved marble statues. It was as if time transcended and I was suddenly taken back to the Renaissance Ages, where the grandest cathedrals were built and people prayed to the rhythms of ancient hymns.            
  After a while, the church door cracked open as an old woman walked in, pulling me from my daze. With a broad smile on her face, she proudly explained to me that this faith was brought in by groups of missionaries who built this church even before she was born, and that her parents have both contributed to its cause. Then she lifted her weathered hand and stroked the marble walls with affection. Not wanting to interrupt her moment, I politely asked her where she would suggest me to go next as a tourist. “Everywhere in this town is unique to me,” she chuckled in Chinese, “but if you cross that bridge to the right of this church and walk straight ahead, you can go visit the riverside.” Warmed by her deep connections to this town, I thanked her and went on my way.
   Evening begun to fall when I approached the riverside and a true marvel was presented in front of my eyes. The sun was slowly sinking from the West into the river, and it was burning like a glowing orb of fire. Along the shore, I saw an artist who was painting alone on a wooden bridge that extended into the river, so I dropped my backpack in delight and flew towards the bridge. The painter did not notice my presence until I told him that I thought his blending of shades looked perfect. He laughed at the realization that I spoke English too as he told me that he was from Britain. “All I do is travel and paint; this is what I’ve dreamed of,” he said, “It wasn’t till I finally let go of everything I wanted before that I understand what true freedom is.”
   I took my sandals off to dip my toes into the water and pondered upon what he said. The sun set further and the colors became more vivid. Red and orange and pink intensified all around us until it felt like we were sitting in the center of Earth itself, right among its burning embers. The water beneath my feet turned into the color of molten lava, and I felt life running through my veins like this flowing river. This subtle stir started at the bottom of my heart then my spirit began to expand with the strangest sense of freedom and renewal I ever felt, like an invisible bond just bursted and disappeared into the sunset. Wasn’t this what the Pearl River Delta symbolized as a whole after all? Wasn’t this the place that was built up by groups of fearless youths who sought freedom, liberty, and renewal, into thriving cities? This used to be the place where the land was flat across the horizon and the place where farmlands flourished upon fertile soil. But over the last couple decades the skyline have been changed as jungles of concrete rose high up into the air, established upon generations of hard work and creation, until the day they finally saw their ideas and dreams come to fruition. This generation we presently see, their hopes and dreams still scrapes the sky like all those towering buildings attempting to reach upwards. Some of them have traveled a thousand miles just to be here, the place where they can recreate themselves and build something of their own. I’ve had dreams too, but over the years those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling but broken. Maybe it’s not too late to have a cleaned slate and start over, not too late to pick up the pieces and rebuild them into something better.
   The artist took out a candle and lit it up so he can continue to paint now that the night has fallen. I watched, intrigue by the large sphere of light a single candle can bring. This reminded me of the first time that I flew over Pearl River Delta on a plane at night when I saw all those little lights glittering. I was behind one of those lights that night by the riverside, releasing brightness to the world. Perhaps if someone happened to be looking from space, the whole of Pearl River Delta must have been tiny, but it must have been sparkling like that candle. I took a seat where I can see the canvas he was painting on, and I felt as if those warm colors were spreading across the canvas of my soul as well. I smiled to my self and felt a genuine sense of happiness. There was something in the night air that felt different now that I drew myself a new skyline in my heart. I didn’t know where I was, but somehow I felt safe. Just for that night, home is wherever I lay my head. Out on that open road, I was lost but I’ve never been so alive.