West Lake of Hangzhou

'You shui shou,' nudges the Chinese lad to his mate. Our sampan ferryman rows on stoically, unamused, his broad weather-beaten face focused on his task. I peer through the freezing fog at the ripples that skim the grey surface of the lake – hardly the sort to portend the stirring of some great creature of the deep. These schoolboy pranks…

It is colder than I expected, in the rickety sampan in the middle of the lake. The small table in front of me is covered with a lace cloth patterned with an apple and a pear and outlandishly outsized strawberries. I could do with a steaming cup of tea, but all there is is a glass of water with a yellowing cigarette extinguished in it.

Somewhere ahead of us, just discernible through the mist, is an artificial island with three pools for mirroring the moon.

一湖、二峰、三泉、四寺、五山
One lake, two peaks, three springs, four temples, five mountains
六园、七洞、八墓、九溪、十景
Six gardens, seven caves, eight tombs, nine streams, ten views

So the saying goes.

Where do the three pools come in, apart from being one of the ten celebrated views of the West Lake?

Or the pot-bellied pagodas, for that matter, that have now heaved into view: squat little things on the surface of the water – each one as round as, well, the moon. In the mid-autumn, they would light candles in the pagodas and hide them behind screens. The glow through the circular windows would reflect on still waters, creating the impression of a sea of floating moons dancing amidst the reflection of the harvest moon.