“Huang Shan does not exist. Only the furtive moments of its appearances remain, and it is the sky that decides — when the mist releases its grip around the range in eastern China, when the fog finally parts to reveal fragments of its stone body to the eye. Then, here and there, like the pieces of a puzzle scattered in the clouds, sharp islets of land emerge: crenellated and level peaks, steep slopes, sharp sides pricked by a few stubborn trees, thousand-year-old pines with foliage flattened under the weight of the mists, which defy the laws of gravity and beg for the void, unless they have fallen in love with it.” — Virginie Luc