“How many apprentices are there in total?”

“Each master has three apprentice slots, so there are thirty-nine apprentices in total.”

“Then have each of them send two over, and they can keep one. They can recruit new apprentices later,” Ye Yaming said.

“But you should make it clear to them in advance. If they don’t follow instructions or don’t perform well, I will send them back. No one’s pleading will help at that time.” Ye Yaming took preventative measures.

“Also, pre-Ming Festival tea yield is small, so just my father and I can handle the pan-frying. This year we’ll only produce premium tea, not focusing on quantity. These apprentices can come to observe and familiarize themselves with the process, practicing with other leaves. They can start making tea during the pre-Rain season. You should decide whether to clarify this with them in advance.”

They only had these few hundred mu of tea gardens, and the few hundred mu of that time couldn’t be compared with the modern equivalent.

These tea trees were either arbor or small arbor trees with large plants covering extensive areas, but with relatively few tea buds. Even harvesting from several hundred mu of tea trees wouldn’t yield much fresh tea.

This year would be the first appearance of Longjing tea, and it had to make a spectacular debut. Low quantity, high price, and excellent taste would be the selling points. Hunger marketing would be the best sales strategy.

Premium tea was a luxury item. Whether Longjing tea could win the favor and pursuit of the nobles in the capital depended crucially on its taste.

Therefore, Ye Yaming would rather exhaust herself to ensure the pre-Ming batch was pan-fried properly. If Ye Hongsheng’s tea-making skills weren’t up to standard, she would make it alone, producing as much as she could.

As for the Longjing tea with inferior taste produced by Ye Hongsheng with the remaining fresh leaves, she would absolutely not allow it to be marketed, at most letting the Ye family consume it themselves.

Of course, if Ye Hongsheng could produce tea with as good a taste as hers, that would be the best outcome.

“Fine, we’ll do as you say,” Ye Chongming stood up. “I’ll handle this matter for you. You just focus on making tea with your father.”

“By the way,” he was about to leave but remembered something, “should we inform Young Masters Lu and Qi about this?”

It had been previously agreed that Ye family’s tea gardens, tea factories, teahouses, and tea pavilions were the Ye family’s own enterprises, outside the scope of cooperation. But with the teahouses in Huizhou, this now meant “tea gardens, tea factories, teahouses, and tea pavilions within Lin’an city.”

Therefore, making new tea was the Ye family’s own business. If both parties wanted to use this tea, just like with the osmanthus tea, they would need to pay Ye Yaming a substantial sum to buy the production method. But that was a matter for the future; it certainly wouldn’t happen this year, as they needed to wait until the Ye family had trained their tea masters.

But the cooperation had been very pleasant recently. Since this matter concerned subsequent business, Ye Chongming felt they should inform the two young masters.

Ye Yaming thought for a moment and divided the tea she had just made into two small jars.

The amount from one batch was limited. She still needed to keep some for Ye Hongsheng to compare with what he had made. Ye Chongming probably wanted to take some back to share with Old Lady Ye and Ye Hongrong. Therefore, each of these two small jars contained only about three to four liang.

Ye Chongming asked: “One jar for Young Master Lu and one for Young Master Qi?”

“No,” Ye Yaming said. “One jar for both Young Masters Lu and Qi, and one jar for Master Zhineng.”

“Yes, yes, we should send some to Master Zhineng first to taste,” Ye Chongming nodded repeatedly.

But looking at the two jars of tea, and then at the small amount left: “Isn’t this too little? Do you want to make another batch?”

He turned his head and looked at his second son with regretful eyes. The only small amount of fresh leaves had been wasted by this fellow.

“Less is more flavorful. Scarcity makes it precious,” Ye Yaming said. “Let my father practice more; he’ll need to guide those apprentices later.”

Ye Chongming thought this made sense.

A group of uncouth men—if his granddaughter had to guide them personally, even having to teach them hands-on, that would be too unfair. It would be better to let his second son instruct them.

With this thought, he had no objections and waved to call Lao Nu and Zan’er, instructing them each to take a guard down the mountain to deliver tea to Master Zhineng and Young Master Lu in Ye Yaming’s name.

He knew that compared to himself, Master Zhineng would be more pleased to receive tea from Ye Yaming or Ye Hongsheng.

At Chongshan Temple, Master Zhineng was receiving guests.

If Ye Hongsheng were here, he would discover that the visitors were his acquaintances: Fan Yu, the Prince Consort who had vigorously promoted tea utensils for the Jihong Tower in the capital, his wife Princess Yuning, and the great painter Tan Xuan.

They weren’t the only ones who had come to Lin’an; the entire group of friends who had gathered at the Princess’s mansion for tea and conversation had arrived.

They were wealthy and had leisure time. After reading “The Classic of Tea,” they had planned to come to Lin’an in spring to witness the tea-picking and tea-making process, having arranged this with Ye Hongsheng.

Upon arriving in Lin’an, they couldn’t help but first visit Master Zhineng. Fan Yu knew that Master Zhineng disliked socializing, so he came with only Princess Yuning and Tan Xuan.

Painting and calligraphy being related arts, Tan Xuan’s temperament suited Master Zhineng’s taste, and the two conversed pleasantly. Master Zhineng occasionally also attended to the younger couple, Fan Yu and his wife, chatting casually. The four sat around the brazier, brewing tea and warming wine, creating a harmonious atmosphere.

“Master, someone from the Ye family’s Third Miss has come, saying she has sent you a new type of tea she has made,” Jingchen reported.

“Oh?” Master Zhineng was delighted and quickly said, “Bring him in.”

Master Zhineng was usually composed. Fan Yu had visited the old master many times but had never seen him so visibly pleased. He couldn’t help but wonder who this “Ye family’s Third Miss” was.

This should be a young girl, right? How did Master Zhineng come to have dealings with a young girl?

Surname Ye? Could it be Ye Hongsheng’s family?

Thinking this, he voiced his question.

“Haha, indeed. This Third Miss is Ye Hongsheng’s eldest daughter. This child’s tea-making talent surpasses even her father’s. You just mentioned that you liked those tea utensils and greatly admired the person who proposed the theory of tea settings? The one who proposed the theory of tea settings is this Third Miss Ye.”

Master Zhineng pointed to “The Tea Setting,” a book they had just been discussing and which Fan Yu and Tan Xuan treasured greatly: “This book was written by that child.”

When Ye Yaming had presented “The Classic of Tea,” she had frankly told Master Zhineng about being taught tea knowledge in her dreams.

Far from looking down on Ye Yaming, Master Zhineng valued her even more—out of everyone in the world, only Ye Yaming had received divine favor. Didn’t this prove her extraordinary background?

And Ye Yaming’s insistence on attributing “The Classic of Tea” to Lu Yu, refusing to let it be known that she was the author, made Master Zhineng feel increasingly that this child was rare and precious.

How many people in the world sought fame and fortune? Ye Yaming’s ability to remain true to her original intention, not tempted by fame or profit, was truly remarkable.