Rain-soaked Qiaozhai! The rainy day at Caijiazhai hides the gentle atmosphere of the first mansion in the hometown of overseas Chinese

Drizzling rain falls into Qionghai, draping Caijiazhai in a layer of misty veil. This century-old building, known as the "First Mansion of the Overseas Chinese Hometown," usually exudes exquisite Nanyang style. When it rains, it gains an indescribable tenderness, as if time itself slows down here. Pushing open the creaking wooden door, raindrops tap on the arcade-style corridor pillars, then slide down the carved eaves, splashing tiny droplets on the bluestone slabs. The Nanyang paintings, Roman columns, and Chinese brick carvings inside the mansion become clearer with the rain’s touch. The entwined floral patterns carved on the wooden beams and the geometric designs between the window panes seem to come alive in the mist, quietly telling stories of the overseas merchants returning home to build their mansions. Standing in the courtyard and looking up, a square skylight lets down a curtain of rain. Raindrops fall into the bluestone water trough, the tinkling sound echoing through the spacious mansion like an old song with its own rhythm. Walking slowly up the wooden stairs, the handrail is polished smooth by time. Occasionally, raindrops sneak in through the window cracks, spreading faint water stains on the yellowed walls. The viewing platform on the second floor offers a perfect view of Caijiazhai layered in the rain curtain. The gray tiles shine warmly in the rain, surrounding coconut trees sway gently in the wind, raindrops dripping from the leaves, and even the distant rice fields become blurred green shadows. Without deliberately searching for an angle, every snapshot captures the misty charm of the overseas Chinese hometown—no noise, only the whisper of rain and the mansion. If tired, sit on an old rattan chair on the first floor and listen to the owner slowly recount stories about the overseas Chinese hometown and the old mansion. The sound of rain becomes the best background music. Occasionally, the wind blows by, carrying the damp scent of grass and wood, making one feel as if they have traveled back a hundred years, almost able to see the lively scene of the mansion brightly lit and family members sitting leisurely. When the rain stops, water droplets still hang from the eaves, sunlight breaks through the clouds, casting mottled shadows on the ground, and Caijiazhai gains a few more touches of clear tenderness. It turns out that rainy days at Caijiazhai are never an "accident" for visitors but the best time to understand the first mansion of the overseas Chinese hometown—those stories hidden between bricks and tiles, the charm embedded in the architecture, all become more vivid and moving under the rain’s nourishment.