“That’s enough for now. Bai Rui, light an incense stick and call me when it burns out,” Ye Yaming said as she took a book and sat down on the cushioned couch by the window, beginning to read.

Lu’E was a year younger than Bai Rui and had a more lively personality.

She followed Bai Rui out the door, and after walking some distance, checked that no one was around before whispering, “How can Young Miss make tea this way? It doesn’t seem right to me.”

Neither of them was born into the Ye family; they were children of tea garden tenant families. Since childhood, they had watched their parents process tea. They had never seen tea being made without steaming or baking.

Bai Rui glared at her. “Young Miss has her reasons for doing it this way. Do you think you’re smarter than her?”

Lu’E puffed her cheeks. “I never said that.”

She rolled her eyes thoughtfully. “But have you noticed that Young Miss seems different these past few days? She feels unlike her former self.”

After transmigrating, although Ye Yaming had tried to match the original owner’s living habits, speech patterns, and small gestures as much as possible, they were ultimately not the same person.

These subtle differences could fool Madam Yin and other Ye family members who only saw her once or twice a day. They could fool Nanny Xia, who had been somewhat distant from the original owner and rarely approached her. But they couldn’t escape the notice of Bai Rui and Lu’E, who served her closely.

However, these changes were so minute that although Lu’E had her doubts, she didn’t dare mention them to others, thinking she was overthinking. Now, stimulated by Ye Yaming’s ability to make osmanthus tea, she couldn’t help voicing her confusion.

Hearing this, Bai Rui grew even angrier. “If you keep talking nonsense, I’ll tell Young Miss.”

Seeing Lu’E’s defiant expression, she sighed. “Young Miss was gravely ill. After waking, she said she had walked to the gates of hell and back. In her delirium, she dreamed that the Ye family fell from grace, that she was tortured to death by the Song family, and that both of us died too.”

Lu’E’s face changed dramatically. “What?” she exclaimed.

Bai Rui quickly covered her mouth and glared at her.

When Lu’E indicated she wouldn’t make another sound, Bai Rui removed her hand and continued, “People say that a journey to the gates of hell can profoundly change one’s temperament. Isn’t it normal that Young Miss’s character has changed? Besides, as people grow up, their thoughts change, especially after experiencing something traumatic. You’re just overthinking. If others heard you, who knows what trouble it might cause.”

Being more attentive than Lu’E, Bai Rui had long noticed the subtle differences in Ye Yaming. But with Ye Yaming’s explanation and her rationalization, she quickly accepted these small changes.

Moreover, she knew that if others discovered these differences, it might cause unwanted complications. The Ye family had enough troubles lately, so she kept her doubts to herself and never mentioned them to anyone.

After all, she could feel Young Miss’s kindness toward her, and Young Miss still trusted her completely. That was enough.

Lu’E hastily replied, “Don’t worry, Sister. I’m just talking to you about this and won’t mention it to anyone else. Now that you explain it, I think you’re right. Young Miss had a serious illness, experienced an epiphany, and changed her temperament—nothing could be more normal.”

“Exactly.”

At this point, Lu’E felt somewhat displeased. “Why did Young Miss tell you about these things but not me?”

“Isn’t it because you’re careless and sometimes speak without thinking? That’s why Young Miss doesn’t want to tell you,” Bai Rui replied.

Lu’E quickly covered her mouth, her large eyes blinking rapidly. Bai Rui found it amusing and couldn’t resist reaching out to poke her forehead.

Bai Rui went inside to get her embroidery frame, then sat on the chaise lounge in the corridor. She listened for any sounds from Ye Yaming’s room while keeping an eye on the burning incense inside, casually stitching her embroidery.

Inside the room, Ye Yaming heard the two maids stop talking. Relieved, she returned to the soft couch by the north window, sat down, and earnestly resumed reading.

Influenced by her maternal grandfather and Madam Yin, and being engaged to Song Yifeng, the original owner believed that poetry and literature were refined pursuits. She aspired to be like a great scholar and devoted much of her time and energy to studying poetry and books.

Ye Yaming had inherited these memories and naturally absorbed this knowledge. However, modern knowledge and vernacular language still dominated her mind. To properly digest the poetry and prose of this era, she needed to read the books again to reinforce her understanding.

Fortunately, books in this era were expensive and scarce. The Ye family was not a scholarly household and had very few books—the original owner only had access to about a dozen. Ye Yaming could read through them several times without much effort.

Over an hour later, Bai Rui came to remind her that the time was up.

Ye Yaming rose and felt the tea pile. When she sensed that its temperature was slightly higher than body temperature, she instructed Bai Rui and Lu’E to spread the pile and turn it over to dissipate the heat.

After the temperature dropped somewhat, she gathered them back into a pile for a second osmanthus scenting, allowing the tea embryo to absorb the fragrance evenly.

“When the osmanthus flowers wilt and turn purplish-red, and the tea embryo becomes soft but doesn’t stick to your hands, it’s ready,” Ye Yaming explained to them.

The two maids would only be freed from servitude after they married, so they would need to help with making osmanthus tea in the future. Naturally, Ye Yaming was willing to teach them the craft of making flower tea.

Within two or three years, the Ye family could change their fate and establish their reputation through this flower tea. By then, whether the technique spread to others would no longer matter so much.

In modern times, everyone knew how to make various teas, or could simply buy a tea-making machine. Yet teas made by different producers tasted distinctly different, and their prices varied greatly due to branding.

Therefore, Ye Yaming wasn’t concerned that teaching the two of them would negatively impact the Ye family’s tea business if they married or left the family.

“Lu’E, go to the corridor and add some charcoal to the stove to build up the fire. Bai Rui, help me sift out these flower residues,” Ye Yaming instructed.

The two maids immediately set to work.

After all the tea was roasted into osmanthus tea and left in the room to cool naturally, the osmanthus tea was considered made. They only needed to put it into jars the next day at the same time to complete the entire process of making osmanthus tea.

…

Deep down, Ye Chongming didn’t believe that Ye Yaming could successfully make osmanthus tea. Five generations ago, the Ye family had been ordinary tenant farmers on the tea mountain, with only a dozen or so acres of tea gardens. They gradually accumulated wealth through several generations of hard work to achieve their current status. Tea-making had seeped into their bones for generations.

Yet in all these years, they hadn’t developed any new teas. Even Ye Hongrong, the most gifted tea maker, had only managed to slightly improve the flavor of the Ye family’s tea. He experimented daily, hoping to innovate, but always failed.

Now, fifteen-year-old Ye Yaming, who had never made tea before, suddenly wanted to create tea. Ye Chongming thought it was merely foolish whimsy.

Ideas might sound good in one’s mind, but execution was difficult, and the final results were often completely disappointing. Several generations of his family had been young once and had hoped to create new teas, only to be utterly defeated in their attempts.