Annecy, this small French town hidden in the foothills of the Alps, is the pure land that Rousseau once cherished and placed his soul in for a long time. The clear and mirror like Annaxi Lake reflects the outline of the snow capped mountains, with colorful wooden houses connected by winding bluestone roads, and the murmuring water of the canal bridges, exuding French romance and the tranquility of the mountains. There is no hustle and bustle of the city, only the gentle sound of the wind brushing against the vegetation, the ripples on the lake, and the warmth of time settling in the old city. Strolling through it, wherever you can see, there is poetry. Your heart will slowly calm down, and worries will quietly dissipate. This kind of beauty, untainted by the hustle and bustle, is like the ideal secret realm in Rousseau's works. It cleanses the soul at first encounter, making people willing to immerse themselves in the gentle embrace of the Alps and unwilling to leave.