The others could barely contain their excitement and said, “Tomorrow at 9 AM, let’s all go to the Fragrance Collection Tower together.”

“Good, good, good.” Everyone agreed.

The next day, the group went to the Fragrance Collection Tower. Seeing the various tea sets displayed upstairs and listening to the Second Master Ye explain the arrangement of tea settings, they recalled the scene Fan Yu had demonstrated yesterday. They immediately went on a shopping spree, with each person buying several sets.

Seeing his friends so satisfied with today’s outing, eager to buy almost every tea set in the tower, Fan Yu was also very happy.

He asked Ye Hongsheng, “Hongsheng, did you find that book you mentioned yesterday? Did you bring it?”

“I brought it, I brought it.” Ye Hongsheng smiled and cupped his hands. “Lord Fan, please wait a moment. I’ll go get it for you right away.”

“Hurry, hurry.”

After Ye Hongsheng left, Tan Xuan and the others curiously asked, “What book? Why are you so eager to get it?”

It was well known that Ye Hongsheng was a merchant who probably hadn’t read many books. They could understand Fan Yu coming here to buy tea sets and tea leaves, but to eagerly pursue a book from a merchant was quite unusual.

“A book about tea,” Fan Yu replied.

“About tea? Who wrote it?” Everyone became even more curious.

In Great Jin, many scholars had written tea essays and tea poems. However, these were usually written on impulse while drinking tea with friends, using tea drinking to express their inner feelings.

Fan Yu himself was a great talent, and not many poems or essays could catch his eye. But how would such masterpieces end up in the hands of the Fragrance Collection Tower’s owner? Perhaps those masters had tasted the tea here, found it excellent, and written a poem for Ye Hongsheng?

Fan Yu let everyone’s imagination run wild, smiling without saying a word, only remarking, “You’ll know soon enough.”

A few days ago when he came, he heard Ye Hongsheng speak knowledgeably about tea, offering many brilliant insights. When he asked where these excellent views came from, Ye Hongsheng said some were his own impressions and others were from reading a tea book.

Fan Yu became very interested in this book and asked Ye Hongsheng to bring it to the tea tower so he could borrow and read it when he visited.

But he had never read this book before and didn’t know if it was well-written or who the author was, so he hesitated to recommend it to his friends.

Soon, Ye Hongsheng brought the book.

Fan Yu took the book and looked at the title—”The Tea Classic”; the author—Lu Yu.

With his excellent memory since childhood and having read countless books, he was certain he had never seen this book before, nor did he know this author.

Although the calligraphy in the book was vigorous and powerful, to be honest, it was only of average quality, not particularly outstanding.

The first impression this book gave him was one of mediocrity. He even slightly disliked it.

For no other reason than that an unknown person with unremarkable calligraphy dared to name their book “The Tea Classic”!

What is a “Classic”? It means a classic work.

This was simply boastful and ignorant of one’s limitations.

His interest in the book immediately diminished by half.

However, having requested this book in front of all his friends, it would be unreasonable to leave in a huff without even opening it.

With slightly furrowed brows, he began to flip through the book.

The writing inside matched the cover, clearly written by the same person.

But after reading a few pages, he gradually became engrossed, his gaze increasingly focused. As he read further, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Oh?”

Those standing behind him or sitting beside him, looking at the book together, understood perfectly what his exclamation meant.

“As for the land, the best tea grows in rocky soil, the second-best in gravelly soil, and the third-best in yellow earth… The south-facing slopes and north-facing forests, purple leaves are superior, green leaves are secondary; bamboo shoot-shaped buds are superior, tooth-shaped buds are secondary; curled leaves are superior, spread leaves are secondary…”

“As for the day, do not pick on rainy days, nor sunny days with clouds.”

To be honest, although they drank tea regularly, they neither understood nor were interested in learning about tea picking and processing. They even disdained such knowledge.

It would be like eating crisp, sweet, emerald green vegetables, then going to learn how they grew from the muddy soil, how many times they were fertilized during growth, and how they were picked and sold by old farmers with dirt under their fingernails—wouldn’t that spoil one’s appetite?

Yet reading about tea picking and processing in this book seemed perfectly acceptable, and they found themselves fascinated by the process.

They discovered that even a tiny tea leaf required so much attention during picking, not to mention the processing.

The book continued: “Heaven nurtures all things, and there are wonders among them… Tea has nine difficulties: first is the making, second is the distinguishing… For precious, fresh, and fragrant tea, serve three bowls; for the next best, serve five bowls. If there are five guests, serve three bowls… Let the excellent tea compensate for what people lack.”

Reading this line, Tan Xuan repeatedly exclaimed, “Brilliant insight, brilliant insight!”

Someone shamefully said, “After seeing this master’s profound views, I realize we are all vulgar folk who have been drinking tea like oxen.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

“Look, the book says that tea with added green onions, ginger, and orange peel is ‘like discarded water from gutters, yet the common custom persists,’ which shows this old fellow is one of our kind!”

“Indeed, indeed.”

After finishing the book, Fan Yu couldn’t bear to put it down. He had completely forgotten his initial disdain and felt nothing but admiration.

As a connoisseur, one must trace everything back to its source. They called themselves tea lovers, yet didn’t know that tea should be picked on clear days, that purple, bamboo shoot-shaped buds should be selected, or that one should only drink three bowls. This person, called “Lu Yu,” was a true refined individual.

“Brother Hongsheng, who is Lu Yu?” he asked.

“A relative of mine,” Ye Hongsheng said. “However, she doesn’t seek fame and doesn’t like meeting guests. She once said, ‘If you know eggs taste good, just eat more; there’s no need to specially meet the hen that laid them.'”

Everyone was stunned, then burst into laughter.

After laughing, they exclaimed, “How amusing!”

“What a wonderful saying!”

“This is truly profound!”

Fan Yu wasn’t satisfied. He rolled his eyes thoughtfully and probed, “This book, did you copy it?”

“Yes,” Ye Hongsheng replied.

His daughter’s calligraphy was not something any random man could criticize.

Fan Yu nodded. This explained why the calligraphy in the book was merely average.

He asked again, “Has Master Zhineng read this book?” He suspected the book might have been written by Master Zhineng.

The author of this book was skilled in tea picking, processing, and drinking, and was even particular about the water used for brewing tea. From the latter especially, one could deduce that the author was a person of leisure and wealth. Furthermore, they were a well-learned scholar, evident from the writing style.

Meeting all these criteria, it could only be Master Zhineng.

But who was Master Zhineng? How dare Ye Hongsheng, a Lin’an merchant, claim him as a relative? Would he have such audacity?

Ye Hongsheng, unaware of Fan Yu’s thoughts, beamed with joy at the mention of Master Zhineng, recalling the master’s praise for his daughter: “He has read it. Master Zhineng spoke very highly of this book and even wrote a postscript for it.”