Liang Ma River illuminates Beijing’s soul for global delegates

BEIJING: THERE are places that tell their stories in stone and steel. Others, like the Liang Ma River, speak in light, water, and breath.

Nestled in the heart of Beijing, flowing calmly past the elegant storefronts of You Yi Shopping City near the bustling Yansha Centre, the Liang Ma River isn’t merely a stretch of water—it’s a living corridor where history and innovation dance together, where nature and modernity clasp hands under the glow of twilight.

It was just as the sun was setting, casting a soft gold upon the skyline, that we boarded a gently drifting boat.

On board were 23 delegates—media representatives from 12 countries across Africa and Asia—visiting China to participate in a media dialogue organised by Contemporary World Magazine of the International Department of the CPC Central Committee. And where better to begin that dialogue than along this radiant river—where every ripple carries both memory and meaning?

As the boat glided forward, the Liang Ma River revealed itself, not in haste, but in harmony.

Its waters shimmered beneath the Yan Shaw Bridge, reflecting the early lights of evening. Green-tinted Chinese characters glowed on the bridge’s side like gentle lanterns, proclaiming the river’s name with pride.

On either bank, modern buildings framed the waterway like quiet sentinels, while illuminated stairs guided visitors toward this central, sacred thread of the city.

Passing under Friendship Bridge felt like crossing a ceremonial gate. There was an unmistakable shift—day surrendered to dream.

The banks came alive with projected animation: dragons soared across virtual skies, their golden scales gleaming against a digitally rendered firmament. Stars glittered above us—not from the heavens, but from clever, subtle light.

A phoenix, resplendent as the morning sun, rose into view, spreading glowing wings that reached out to all of us.

Beneath the shimmer of this crafted sky, vegetation bloomed, waterfalls poured, and the walls of buildings morphed into storytelling screens.

Ancient temples, camels crossing deserts, horses at full gallop—the river became a moving canvas of Chinese heritage. The music, soft and evocative, echoed across the water like wind through bamboo.

And the journey did not stop in the past. The river gently swept us into the present and beyond: high-tech cityscapes emerged, then space itself—a breathtaking leap through time. Satellites orbited above, planets turned, and asteroids fell so convincingly across the projection dome that more than one guest ducked instinctively.

The Liang Ma River—ancient yet alive—now carried us through a digital universe.

As we reached Mai Jai Bridge, the moment was hushed, contemplative. The beauty wasn’t loud. It was breathing. The soft tones of traditional music filled the air, and the water’s rhythm matched the pulse of the city’s soul.

Under Lucky Bridge, the river’s magic erupted again—light spilled across every surface, glowing violet and emerald. Around me, cameras lifted like clockwork. But photos could not fully hold what we were feeling: joy, luck, and a quiet sense of being in exactly the right place at the right time.

We passed Len Meng Bridge, where the banks revealed yet another layer of river life. Children played in pocket parks, couples strolled under the trees, and friends laughed together by the water.

Dogs padded alongside their owners, tails wagging beneath the lights.

Then came Liu Li Bridge and Yin Ma Bridge, each unveiling another act in this visual symphony.

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Butterfly-shaped lights twinkled at the riverside, their colourful wings casting reflections on the dark water like whispers of spring. Guan Lan Bridge appeared, followed by Shui Dui Bridge, where a final burst of playfulness awaited—giant floating balloons, adorned with painted emojis in bright blues, pinks, greens, and oranges.

Each one smiled, winked, or grinned back at us as if the river itself was waving farewell.

From ancient myth to cosmic wonder, from quiet parklands to shining bridges, the Liang Ma River had not only told its own story—it had invited us to become part of it.