Chapter 59: Tea Tasting
"Come, have a seat, Xiao Fang. What tea would you like? Green tea or Tieguanyin? I also have the finest Da Hong Pao; would you care to try it?"
After ushering Fang Yi and Fatty into his office, Zhao Hongtao inquired, revealing his passion for tea alongside his interest in cultural artifacts. His desk was adorned with an array of tea leaves.
"Brother Zhao, is it the Da Hong Pao harvested from the ancient mother trees of Wuyi Mountain?"
Upon hearing Zhao Hongtao's offer, Fang Yi's eyes sparkled with excitement. Although he had only sampled tea from wild tea trees in the mountains, the old Taoist had instilled in him a love for tea from a young age, having made him memorize Lu Yu's "The Classic of Tea" at the tender age of seven or eight, and explaining the distinctions among various regional teas.
Yet, despite his theoretical knowledge, the finest tea Fang Yi had ever tasted was the West Lake Longjing he had enjoyed in Man Jun's home just days prior, not to mention the highly esteemed Wuyi Da Hong Pao revered by his master.
"You rascal, do you think I can just procure that kind of tea for you?"
Zhao Hongtao was momentarily taken aback by Fang Yi's remark, then broke into a wry smile. Wuyi Da Hong Pao is a gem in the realm of Chinese tea, often referred to as the "champion of tea," the king of rock teas, and a national treasure, celebrated as the "King of Wuyi Tea."
The ancient mother trees Fang Yi mentioned were among the last four remaining millennium-old tea trees precariously perched on the steep cliffs of Jiulongke in Wuyi Mountain, yielding a meager harvest and regarded as a rare treasure, historically reserved as tribute, thus entirely unattainable in the market.
A tea enthusiast, Zhao Hongtao once made a special trip to Jiulongke during a business trip, hoping to procure some tea. However, he was stopped by the armed police just a few dozen meters from the mother trees, forced to gaze at them from afar.
"Oh, so it's not tea from the mother trees..."
Fang Yi's disappointment was palpable. His master had once clandestinely harvested leaves from those ancient trees when he was young, claiming them to be the best tea he had ever tasted, leaving a lasting impression on Fang Yi.
"Do you think such treasures can be bought with money?" Zhao Hongtao shot Fang Yi an exasperated glance. Not only could one not purchase tea from those trees with money, but even if it were available, it would likely be exorbitantly priced—beyond his means.
"I'll let you sample my exquisite tea..." Initially intending to serve Fang Yi some ordinary tea, Zhao Hongtao, spurred by Fang Yi's words, decided to present his prized stock instead.
"Fang Yi, this tea costs fifty-eight thousand per kilogram. Give it a taste, but if you can't say something nice about it, I won't let you off easily..."
Being a tea aficionado, Zhao Hongtao had a complete set of tea utensils. After retrieving his finest tea set, he expertly brewed a bowl of Da Hong Pao using traditional kung fu tea techniques.
"Hey, Brother Zhao, what about mine?" Seeing that Zhao Hongtao had only brewed a single bowl of tea, Fatty grew anxious, his thirst unquenched after just finishing a meal, and he was dismayed that there was none for him.
"I have tea leaves on my desk; help yourself..."
Zhao Hongtao waved his hand dismissively. What a joke! He had only brewed this top-tier tea for his mentor, Sun Lianda, and the current director had never tasted it. Had it not been for Fang Yi's earlier remark, Zhao Hongtao would never have brought it out.
"Fine, I'll brew my own then..." Fatty was indifferent about the type of tea; even if it were a mix of top-tier Da Hong Pao and some cheap tea costing just a few yuan a kilogram, he likely wouldn't discern any difference.
"Xiao Fang, how does it taste? Give it a try," Zhao Hongtao said, pouring tea for Fang Yi with practiced ease, a hint of pride gracing his features.
"Brother Zhao, your technique is commendable; you've executed the 'high pour, low pour, skim the foam, and cover the lid' method flawlessly..." After Zhao Hongtao finished brewing, Fang Yi refrained from immediately lifting the bowl. Instead, he offered a thumbs-up, recognizing Zhao Hongtao's skill, which he admired but could not replicate with the same finesse.
"Ah, you actually know about tea?" Zhao Hongtao regarded Fang Yi with newfound respect, for the terminology he used was specific to tea brewing, not easily grasped by casual drinkers.
"Hehe, I have a modest understanding..."
Fang Yi chuckled, holding the tea bowl with his right hand, fingers poised delicately, bringing it to his lips. However, he did not drink just yet; instead, he inhaled the fragrant aroma of the tea.
"Interesting, who taught you this?"
Witnessing Fang Yi's actions, Zhao Hongtao's curiosity deepened, while Fatty looked on in confusion. Zhao Hongtao recognized that Fang Yi's grip on the tea bowl was a gesture affectionately dubbed "Three Dragons Guarding the Cauldron" among seasoned tea drinkers.
"I often drank tea with my master when there was nothing else to do in the mountains..." Fang Yi replied with a smile, finally taking a small sip from the bowl.
"Well? What do you think?" Zhao Hongtao's gaze was fixed intently on Fang Yi, eager to hear his evaluation. Unbeknownst to him, he had begun to regard Fang Yi as an equal in understanding tea.
"This is exquisite tea. Although I have never tasted the Da Hong Pao from the mother trees, I believe this is quite comparable..."
After praising the tea, Fang Yi took another sip before placing the bowl on the table. "With its 'polished jade, woven crimson gauze, simmered yellow stamen, and melodious floral notes,' I shall use these four lines to critique this tea..."
"You rascal, you even know Yuan Zhen's poetry?"
Zhao Hongtao was astounded, nearly dropping his jaw. He recognized the lines as coming from Yuan Zhen's poem "From One Character to Seven Characters: Tea," which was not widely known among tea verses. He was surprised that Fang Yi could recite it.
"Fang Yi, you truly haven't attended school?"
Zhao Hongtao couldn't help but ask, knowing that even graduate students studying ancient texts might struggle to memorize Yuan Zhen's poem. This alone revealed Fang Yi's profound grasp of classical literature.
"No, but I have read extensively, including many ancient texts..." At this moment, Fang Yi felt a pang of nostalgia, recalling how his master had once amassed a vast collection of books, only to give them away in the end, leaving Fang Yi with a sense of loss.
From his earliest memories, Fang Yi recalled the old Taoist's room overflowing with books. According to his master, these tomes were collected during the tumultuous years when he sought to protect them from destruction.
At that time, Fang Yi did not fully grasp his master's words, but as he matured and learned about the chaotic decade, he understood that had his master not brought those books to the mountains, they would likely have been reduced to ashes, with not a single scrap remaining.
However, when Fang Yi turned twelve and had nearly memorized all the content within those books, he returned from playing one day to find a throng of people in the temple, both Taoists and laypeople, packing up his master's books to take away.
Afterward, Fang Yi inquired about the fate of the books. The old Taoist simply said he had given them away, asserting that books were meant for learning, not for hoarding, and as long as their knowledge was retained in one's heart, they would always belong to him.
"Your master sounds like a truly enlightened individual!"
Hearing Fang Yi recount tales of the old Taoist, Zhao Hongtao expressed admiration. Having lived through that era, he understood the madness of the times, where even Confucius's tomb was nearly desecrated, let alone the countless precious artifacts and ancient texts destroyed.
"What enlightened individual? Just a scruffy Taoist..."
Fatty, who had been silent until now, couldn't help but interject upon hearing Zhao Hongtao praise the old Taoist. He had spent considerable time in the temple and his impression of the old man was one of dishevelment and eccentricity; the nickname "little diviner" for Fang Yi had originated from the old Taoist.
"What do you know..."
Zhao Hongtao shook his head, now understanding why his mentor valued Fang Yi so highly. This young man's historical knowledge surpassed that of many graduate students; with a little guidance, he could easily thrive in the antique trade.
"Fang Yi, from now on, feel free to sample any tea in my office, except for this one..."
Having encountered someone who appreciated tea, Zhao Hongtao was generous, though he could not allow Fang Yi to indulge in the fifty-eight thousand per kilogram tea, akin to the rare ancient Pu'er tea from the Forbidden City, as once consumed, it would be irreplaceable.
"Thank you, Brother Zhao, but I don't drink tea; I merely savor it..."
Fang Yi's response brought a smile to Zhao Hongtao's face, for it was the mark of a true tea connoisseur. Unlike Fatty, who would pour boiling water into a large cup and brew a haphazard tea, Zhao Hongtao found such behavior akin to chewing on peony petals, lamenting the waste even if the tea cost merely ten yuan a kilogram.
"By the way, there's one more thing..."
Zhao Hongtao retrieved a card from his desk drawer and said, "Fang Yi, the museum has a cafeteria. My mentor asked me to arrange meal cards for you all, so you can have lunch here; the food outside isn't very sanitary..."
"Brother Zhao, that's too kind! We could easily grab a quick meal outside..."
Touched by Zhao Hongtao's thoughtful gesture, Fang Yi felt a warmth in his heart; apart from his master, who had raised him like a shepherd tending sheep, no one had ever shown such genuine concern for him.
"Your master has taken you as his disciple; we are now family..." Zhao Hongtao pushed the meal card toward Fang Yi with a smile, adding, "Your Brother Zhao is also not wealthy; this card holds only three hundred yuan. You can recharge it at the cafeteria and spend according to what you eat..."
The arrangement of the meal card was indeed a request from Old Sun, who understood that Fang Yi and his companions would be too busy to cook while setting up their stalls. The cafeteria's meals were both affordable and hygienic, and Old Sun was particularly attentive to Fang Yi, his disciple.
"Brother Zhao, thank you and the teacher for this..."
Fang Yi stood and respectfully bowed to Zhao Hongtao, his gratitude stemming not from the meal card or the modest sum of money, but from the heartfelt care Zhao Hongtao and his mentor had shown him.
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