写几个字介绍下凤凰古城吧。

我们是昨天下午六点多到的凤凰古城。起初没细看地图，还以为要开到湘西苗族自治州、吉首一带。后来拐下乡村公路，才发现古城其实并不远，心里这才松了口气，不用急着找地方充电。从郴州一路赶来，八个多小时的车程，说实话，强度不小。女儿倒很简单，该吃吃、该睡睡，反正后排三个座位，她一个人轻轻松松就能躺下。

途中自动驾驶帮了我一把，长途奔波也没有那么累。七年多来，这辆车和我彼此早已熟悉，各自的脾气都摸得清清楚楚。

其实现在开电车出行已经很方便了。几乎每五十公里就有一个服务区，每个服务区有六到十二个充电桩。即便是暑假，孩子们出行多，这样的配置也完全够用。

蜿蜒的乡村公路带着我们很快抵达沱江边，路面一下子变窄了许多，我也放慢了速度。沿途不时能见到广东来的车。门口红色发烫的招牌在提醒我们，古城区就在面前。

慢慢挤到酒店旁边，我又赶紧去找地方充电。本来打算半路上充一次，结果最后一个服务区太拥挤，索性直接冲到了凤凰。

找到充电站时，刚好有一辆湘A的特斯拉快充满了。虹桥附近只有两个超充，确实有些紧张。等车停好开始充电，我赶紧带女儿在旁边找了家馆子简单吃了点东西。充电速度不算快，我们索性信步走到江边。沱江边上的灯都亮了起来，和别的古镇一样，人群涌动，大家缓慢地挪动着脚步。女儿不知何时拉着我走进一家小店，每样东西她都喜欢，每个小玩具都是她的心头好。

好不容易抓拍了两张照片，又被她叫了回去。想让她学会别乱买东西，上次在云南古镇，我给了她二百块预算，三天用完，结果不到两个小时就花光了。还好后来她明白了这样花钱太快不好，接下来的两天一件东西都没买。

但这次我没有限定预算，只答应她可以选三个礼物，不看价格，只看数量。她明显懂事多了，没有每样都坚持要买。其实后来变卦的反倒是我们大人，经常想着再给她添点什么。比如今天在沱江边玩水枪，葫芦丝的声音悦耳，口琴也不错，再坐坐船，买点小首饰……

一下午下来，包里已经装了十几个小礼物。

干脆坐船吧，这样只能静静地看和慢慢地想。沈从文先生不是说过吗？我就这样一面看水，一面想着你。

清凉的沱江水，在炎热的夏天让人觉得分外舒畅。真希望时光就停在这一刻，只看水，只想你。如果人们不用那么辛苦上班，能这样慢慢闲逛，人生是不是会更加幸福？

似乎也未必，因为女儿又拉着我的手说饿了。玩完水，她只喝了点饮料，又去坐船，三个小时很快过去。路边食物的香气想必早已钻进她鼻子，这个想吃，那个也想尝。

好不容易牵着她回到酒店，赶紧凉快一下。我又打开电脑，敲起代码，写写字。不知不觉一抬头，已经八点多了，我们还没吃晚饭呢。

“走吧，咱们去吃烧烤！”

这世上，有什么是一顿烧烤解决不了的呢？

Fenghuang Ancient Town

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Tucked away in western Hunan, Fenghuang (Phoenix) Ancient Town sits on the emerald-green Tuo River, its stilted wooden houses, stone alleys and Miao embroidery stalls all woven into a postcard-perfect riverscape. Lanterns glow at dusk, boats glide past covered bridges, and the scent of charcoal skewers drifts through the night air—equal parts history and holiday mood.

We rolled into Fenghuang a little after six yesterday evening. I’d skimmed the map earlier and assumed we’d have to press on toward Jishou in the Xiangxi Autonomous Prefecture; only when we ducked onto a country road did I realise the old town was practically around the corner. Big relief—no frantic hunt for a charger. The haul from Chenzhou had taken us more than eight hours, no small feat. My daughter had the easy life in the back seat: snacks, naps, and three seats all to herself.

Autopilot did most of the heavy lifting, so the miles weren’t nearly as draining. After seven-plus years, this car and I know each other’s quirks by heart.

Driving an EV these days is a breeze: a service area every fifty kilometres, six to twelve chargers each. Even in peak summer-holiday traffic, that setup more than covers it.

A winding rural lane dropped us at the Tuo River. The road pinched tight, I eased off the accelerator, and Guangdong plates kept popping up in front of us. The bright-red neon at the gate told us the old town was right ahead.

I squeezed the car beside the hotel, then dashed off to top up the battery. I’d meant to charge once en-route, but the last service area was jam-packed, so I simply pushed on to Fenghuang. At the station a Tesla with Hunan tags was just finishing up—only two Superchargers near Hong Bridge, so turnover felt tense. While the car sipped electrons, my daughter and I grabbed a quick bite, then drifted down to the riverfront. Lamps along the Tuo flicked on; crowds thickened; everyone shuffled along at the classic ancient-town crawl. My daughter slipped into a tiny shop and loved everything in sight—every trinket her new favourite.

I barely snapped two photos before she dragged me back. I’m trying to teach her not to impulse-buy: last time in a Yunnan old town I gave her a ¥200, three-day budget—she torched it in under two hours. Lesson learned; she bought nothing the next two days.

This time I skipped the cash cap and told her she could pick three presents, price no object, quantity fixed. She was far more selective—funnily enough, it was the adults who kept wanting to add “just one more.” A water gun by the river, a mellow-toned hulusi, a harmonica, a boat ride, a pair of earrings …

By late afternoon the tote bulged with a dozen souvenirs.

We finally climbed into a little boat—nothing left to do but watch and think. As Shen Congwen wrote, “I look at the water and think of you.”

The Tuo’s cool current felt heavenly in the summer heat. I wished time would stall—just water, just thoughts. If people didn’t have to grind away at work, if they could wander like this, would life be happier?

Maybe, maybe not—my daughter tugged my hand, starving. Three hours of water fights, drinks, and a boat ride had flown by, and every street-food aroma was whispering to her.

We corralled ourselves back to the hotel to cool off. I cracked open my laptop, tapped out some code, scribbled a few notes. Looked up—past eight already, still no dinner.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s find some barbecue.”

Because honestly, what problem can’t a late-night barbecue fix?