Wuyuan sits where Jiangxi, Anhui and Zhejiang meet, and its villages are Huizhou villages — whitewashed walls, black-tiled roofs, horse-head gables — strung along streams and terraced into the hills. There are dozens of them, and they are the whole reason to come. The countryside here was once rich on Huizhou merchants' money and still carries the carved halls, ancestral temples and stone-flagged lanes they paid for.
For most of the year Wuyuan is a slow, quiet place of rice and tea. Then, for two weeks in late March and early April, the rapeseed flowers open and the whole county turns gold: terraces of it at Jiangling, village after village ringed by it. It is the single most photographed landscape in southern China. A second, quieter season comes in November, when the maples at Shicheng go red and the villagers at Huangling spread chillies, corn and persimmons on round bamboo trays to dry.
The villages are scattered and each is paid for separately or with a five-day pass, so Wuyuan is not a place you wander into — you plan it. The two main routes, East and North, run out from the county town of Ziyang, and the best of the county is often the road between the sights rather than the sights themselves.
It is genuinely rural: the food is Huizhou and spicy, the guesthouses are converted farmhouses, and the evenings are silent. If you want nightlife or polish, this is not the place — if you want to walk into a Chinese ink painting, it is.