The Citrus Chronicles: Yiling’s 4,000-Year Love Affair with Oranges

In Yiling District, Yichang—a land hugged by the Yangtze River—oranges aren’t just fruit. They’re living history. Imagine this: over 4,000 years ago, emperors demanded Yiling’s citrus as tribute, raving about them in ancient texts like China’s first "foodie guidebook," the Yu Gong (禹贡). Even mythical beasts in the Shan Hai Jing (山海经) probably craved these golden globes.

But Yiling’s citrus fame isn’t just an old gossip. This place is nature’s citrus lab:

Sunshine: Like a VIP tanning bed for oranges;

Rain: Just enough to quench thirst, not drown the vibe;

Frost-free days: A whopping 300+ per year (take that, Siberia!);

Here, wild citrus ancestors still party in the hills. In 1907, British plant detective Ernest Wilson stumbled upon a feral orange species near the Three Travelers Cave. By 1913, American botanist Walter Swingle slapped it with a scientific name: Citrus ichangensis, aka the "Yichang Orange"—the OG of citrus. Today, protected groves in Dongwan Village guard these genetic VIPs.

Now, let's move back to the history and culture in this land. Qu Yuan (340–278 BC), China’s OG poet-patriot, wrote Ode to the Orange here: “Born to thrive in the south, never bending to frost…”

Song dynasty rockstar Ouyang Xiu dropped rhymes like “Frozen thunder wakes bamboo shoots, snow clings to orange branches”—the ancient equivalent of posting orange aesthetic pics with deep captions.

Fast-forward to today: Yiling’s orange groves aren’t just farms but Instagram playgrounds. Thanks to China’s agritourism boom, you can:

Pick ’em fresh: Channel your inner farmer at U-Pick orchards;

Taste-test history: Sip orange-infused cocktails where emperors once snacked;

Locals joke that even Yiling’s soil smells like orange zest. However, as one farmer grinned while weighing a basket of sun-warmed oranges, “Qu Yuan wrote poems about these. I just make ‘em juicy.”