The closest island to Shanghai: Fuxing Island

Stepping onto Fuxing Island, one seems to fall into the folds of time. The wind here carries the damp river mist, sweeping across weathered brick walls and laying bare the traces of years in every corner.
The houses on the island resemble elders forgotten by time: walls peeling to reveal the dark red bricks beneath, window frames askew, glass covered in thick layers of dust. Some rooftops have missing tiles, where clumps of green weeds sprout, swaying gently in the wind. Clotheslines crisscross the narrow alleyways, with faded bedsheets and whitened shirts fluttering like banners of time, wordlessly telling stories of the past.
Like a forgotten isolated isle, it stands quietly on the edge of the bustling metropolis, guarding a stretch of old time that fades away.