25℃ in Chongzuo takes "strolling with kids" to a whole new level

25℃ in Chongzuo takes "strolling with kids" to a whole new level||| It's the 17th day of the kids' summer vacation, and I'm already out of ideas. My best friend casually said, "Go to Chongzuo, 25℃," so I stayed up all night checking flights—landing in Nanning, renting a car for two hours, and heading straight into a summer so cool even the air conditioner’s outdoor unit feels cold. Day 1 Nanning Arrived on a red-eye flight, and the hotel driver’s “Thank you for your hard work” brought me back to reality. At Liyuan Metropark Hotel, they gave the kid a plush Yongjiang baby elephant, who hugged it and fell asleep instantly. I secretly ordered a bowl of Laoyou rice noodles at midnight—the sour and spicy aroma hit my nose, so good it brought tears to my eyes. Day 2 Tongnayuwan → Zaiye Suji The kid was still yawning in the morning, but the boat was already drifting into the "jade jar"—the water in Tongnayuwan was so green it almost looked black, and when the oars stirred, the sunlight sparkled like shattered silver. The kid stood up and said, "Mom, this is like a cartoon!" In the afternoon, we turned into Zaiye Suji. The front desk girl handed over the bike keys and said, "The island loop is 3 kilometers; if you fall, it’s on me." The kid pedaled the little bike into the rice fields, the wind turning their hair into a broom, and I shouted from behind, "Brake! Brake!"—of course, no stopping, and they plunged headfirst into a wildflower patch, laughing louder than the bees. At night, the guesthouse announced an outdoor movie: "My Neighbor Totoro." The kid grabbed a mango pudding and took the front row. Halfway through, they turned to me and gave an OK sign: "We can skip check-in today; I forgive you." Day 3 Detian Waterfall → Mingshi Pastoral The GPS showed "Entering Vietnam ahead," and I gripped the steering wheel tight—Detian Waterfall spans two countries, and the phone signal crossed the border and back. At the waterfall’s base, there was a coffee cart selling "Vietnamese drip coffee" for 15 yuan a cup. The kid took photos, making mom and dad look like 2-centimeter-tall figures with a 70-meter waterfall curtain in the background—instantly a "cross-border working photo" on social media. In the afternoon, we slipped into Mingshi Pastoral and rented two electric-assist bikes, cruising on "auto-pilot." The kid thought it was too slow, turned the throttle to max, and zoomed into the sugarcane fields. I chased after shouting, "Did you bring your passport?" Day 4 Tongling Grand Canyon → Old Town → Jingxi Tongling Canyon is a natural "energy outlet for wild kids." The whole route is shaded, the steps are wet but not slippery, and the kid treated every waterfall like a shower, finally stepping into the water to catch tadpoles. When they came ashore, their shoes squished with water, laughing like they had just stolen candy. In the afternoon, we visited Old Town’s Zhuang brocade grandma, who taught us tie-dyeing live—"tie-dye = blind box opening." The kid picked a white handkerchief and tied it up messily; the finished product looked like spilled milk, but grandma still gave a thumbs up: "Abstract art!" At night, we stayed in Jingxi. In the hotel elevator, we met a family who was also soaked like drowned rats, and we laughed together—turns out the canyon’s end was a "social death" scene. Day 5 Quyang Lake → Return Trip Quyang Lake was today’s "cool-down exercise." The boat sailed into the karst peak forest, the phone lost signal automatically, and the world was left with only cicadas and paddling sounds. The kid suddenly got quiet and said, "Mom, let’s throw dad into the lake to raise fish."—Okay, I’ll order a fish tank as soon as we get back to the city. On the way back, the kid counted on their fingers: "Today we caught tadpoles, dyed cloth, almost sent mom and dad abroad... Mom, can we come again next time?" I didn’t answer but opened the calendar first—September is off-season, tickets are half price, and 25℃ is still waiting for me.