“Tea leaves! I need tea leaves! I need fresh tea leaves!”

Grandmother Yun was running around anxiously. Her grandson had returned from the river outing and told the steward he wanted fresh tea leaves, but she didn’t know what he needed them for. There weren’t many places in Chang’an that grew tea trees.

Qian Tong ran all over a thirty-li radius and heard that only one wealthy household that traded in Shu brocade had a few dozen trees, but they wouldn’t sell. Their words were quite firm too—these were specially planted for their own master, and having no relationship with the Yun family, they wouldn’t discuss it further.

Who was this? A mere merchant daring to speak to a national marquis like this? Never mind a few broken tea trees—even if he wanted your entire family fortune, you’d have to obediently offer it up, and that would still depend on whether the Marquis was in a good mood. Even if your family had powerful backing, when a marquis household spoke politely, by rights even if you didn’t want to deal with the Yun family, you had to give them this much face. So ignorant! Inviting disaster upon yourself for no reason. Expecting such a person to do business successfully for long—that was underestimating a marquis’s influence too much.

She didn’t dare tell her grandson about this. Today when he returned home, he was smashing cups and bowls—who knew what had angered him outside.

What could anger him? Who would dare anger me? Yun Ye was furious beyond measure.

Master Yushan was immersed in the elegant atmosphere of Shu’s boiled tea and couldn’t extricate himself. He got a broken stove, several earthen jars, several dark tea bowls, and learned Zhao Yanling’s tea-making method. Scallions and ginger were indispensable, nutmeg was indispensable, Sichuan pepper was indispensable, salt was indispensable. Thinking lamb fat was somewhat beneath his status, he had people find some beef tallow, and innovatively added vinegar, saying it would create one more transformation.

After Li Gang (Li Wenji), He Tu (He Yuanzhang), and Gu Yuan (Gu Lishi) tasted it, they deemed it feasible. They encouraged him to conduct several more experiments before they’d taste it again, and solemnly recommended that Yun Ye (Yun Buqi) replace them in appreciating Xin Xuanyu (Xin Yushan)’s marvelous tea-making skills.

Poor Yun Ye couldn’t even accept Chang’an’s raw tea powder, and they wanted him to drink Old Xin’s oily soup?

There was no escape. Every morning, Old Xin’s class required extensive memorization, so he always taught first. By the time it was Yun Ye’s turn, it was almost noon. The old master was always waiting outside the classroom with a smile.

“Marquis Yun, this old man specially changed the secret formula today, increasing the portions of Sichuan pepper and nutmeg. Come taste and evaluate it again.”

To escape his tragic fate, Yun Ye had even used such utterly unfilial excuses as his grandmother being ill, yet he still couldn’t escape the destiny of being a guinea pig.

Li Tai, not knowing death was near, jumped out saying Master Yushan’s exclusive secret technique must be tasted, and even dragged his own brother Li Ke along, insisting they go.

Now these were good disciples! “When there’s work, disciples serve their labor”—that ancient saying was so right!

Master Yushan felt it was very face-giving that his craft could be favored by the imperial clan. Left hand pulling Li Tai, right hand leading Li Ke, he had no time to concern himself with Yun Ye, this small marquis.

Racing down the mountain on his fast horse, today he wasn’t going home for dinner—he was going to raid a household! Not giving Marquis Yun any face—if this spread to Chang’an, he’d be laughed at by all the titled families. Whoever’s lackey you are, as long as you’re not the Emperor’s, today I’ll smash you to smithereens! A few broken tea leaves—does the Marquis care?

Old killers retired from the military now happily guarded the Yun household and tended some fields on the side. The Marquis had built new courtyards for everyone—a row of green-tiled blue-brick buildings on the slope that made the villagers gasp. They had just moved arrogantly into their new homes when they heard the Marquis had been insulted. Their eyes turned red—without a word, they grabbed their weapons.

Qian Tong led the way in front, riding his horse with considerable style. Over forty riders with rolling dust charged toward that place called Hu Village. Just by the name, it wasn’t a good place.

Zhuang Santing was skilled at horsemanship. The village guards blocking the way were sent rolling all over the ground by his single whip strike. The black steed raised its front hooves and kicked heavily at the tightly closed gate. Dust flew but the gate didn’t open—it retreated back.

Behind him, a muscular old man stood on the ground, exhaled with a shout, and his watermelon-sized meteor hammer flew out. After a tremendous crash, the gate had a pitiful large hole in it. Two flying grappling hooks caught the gate, and two Yun household guards spurred their horses backward. The gate was dragged away as easily as if it were straw.

Sabers unsheathed, Zhuang Santing charged into the residence first.

In an instant, the entire residence was thrown into chaos. Over forty warhorses rampaged through the compound. The servants’ wails, the master’s pleas for mercy, women’s weeping, and children’s muffled sobs filled this large residence occupying over ten mu.

A fat old man was dragged by the neck by Zhuang Santing and brought before Yun Ye’s horse.

His legs shook like playing a pipa, his crotch was soaked with a large wet patch, sweat poured down his face like a small stream. He could only stammer: “This is Duke Jiangguo’s villa. Please preserve some face.”

“Chen Shuda? Duke Jiangguo? Imperial Secretary? So you’re a former minister of the Chen state—no wonder you don’t put a small marquis household in your eyes. Are you the Chen family’s son? Or grandson?”

“This humble person is a Jiannan brocade merchant residing here.”

“Break one of his legs. This Marquis wants to properly tour those rare tea trees.” Yun Ye had no patience to argue with him. Just relying on Chen Shuda’s official power to act big in the countryside—such a dog thief didn’t deserve any face.

The guard beside him swung his staff down on the fellow’s knee. With a crack, the fat old man curled on the ground screaming like a slaughtered pig. The other men kneeling under the corridor shook all over, shouting for mercy.

In the garden indeed grew several dozen tea trees. Unfortunately, the first picking of leaves had already been harvested. The second picking had only recently sprouted—the tree was full of tender green buds, perfect for roasting tea. He pinched a piece and put it in his mouth. The light tea fragrance filled his mouth, only somewhat bitter with a heavier grassy smell.

With a wave of his hand, the guards used their sabers to cut down the tea trees one by one and carried them on their backs.

He didn’t plan to leave him any. How Sun Wukong acted at the Wuzhuang Temple, that’s how we’ll act.

To the fat old man who had already fainted, he said: “This Marquis likes looking at tea trees, so I’m taking them back to examine carefully. When I’m tired of looking, naturally I’ll send them back to you.”

Everyone rode horses carrying tea trees, returning home in grand procession, leaving behind a stretch of miserable crying.

The tea was brought back. He sent the household maids to pick the leaves bit by bit and dry them on winnowing baskets in the sun.

Yun Ye hid in his room recalling how tea was roasted. Did it require firewood? Did it require an iron wok? Did it need to be roasted by hand? Did it need kneading?

What was “kill-green”? Why couldn’t he remember?

Green tea, light tea, red tea, oolong—what did they all mean?

Flower tea put jasmine buds in—what was its difference from green tea?

Yun Ye’s head was as big as a bushel. He’d thought things too simple. Something that took thousands of years in history to perfect, and he wanted to figure it out in one morning—that was somewhat fanciful.

The spirit of experimentation still had to be maintained. Looking at his paws, then thinking of his stomach—there was no perfect solution in the world. If you wanted one place to be comfortable, you had to make another place suffer. Recalling Master Yushan’s terrifying tea ceremony, better to sacrifice the paws.

From noon to sunset, Yun Ye’s screams occasionally came from the back garden, making several young maids cry. Grandmother repeatedly urged her grandson: “We don’t want any treasures anymore. Our family has enough good things. Ye’er, you absolutely mustn’t hurt yourself.”

Finally, the back garden door opened. Yun Ye, his face covered in black ash, emerged holding a glazed jar. Both his hands were wrapped full of cloth strips, and he occasionally grimaced. Seeing Grandmother approaching, he said happily: “I finally know how to roast tea!”

After Grandmother’s heartfelt distress and affection, Yun Ye looked sadly at his hands wrapped full of cloth strips and said viciously: “Nobody else is allowed to drink this jar of tea!”