Biographies of Tea Masters (27) Tea Farmer

Biographies of Tea Masters (27)

A is a tea farmer in an important tea village in a renowned tea region of Menghai. The first time I went to find A, I took a small bus, then a hand tractor, and finally A arranged for someone to give me a ride on a motorcycle to his home. That day A invited us to dinner. The room was dimly lit and smoky. A had about ten people as company, but only cooked four dishes, though several cases of beer were served. I didn't drink, finished my rice in a few minutes, and didn't dare eat much of the dishes. But the dozen or so villagers, as soon as they sat down, said how sumptuous it was, with chicken and fish, four or five dishes—who are these guests? Indeed, they drank for hours, several cases of beer down, but the dishes barely decreased, each still half full. That time A gave me some tea samples and said haltingly, 'Our village has mostly small trees, only a few ancient trees, suitable for bulk goods, which fits your online sales.' A also very politely invited me to stay in the village. What impressed me most was that after cooking, A's wife used the wok to fry tea leaves.

The second time I saw A was in the spring of the third year, when I went to buy tea from A. By then A had already bought a car and picked me up from Menghai county town. The house had been renovated, much brighter, with several woks for tea frying, and tea was still dried in front and behind the house. During the meal, there were other guests. A still served several cases of beer, but there were already about ten dishes, quite sumptuous. He very skillfully said to that group of guests, 'Our village is well protected, mainly ancient trees. You can buy without worry, no need to supervise; all are ancient trees. Hurry and grab some. Many customers are making tea in our village now; if you delay, you might not get any.'

The most recent time I saw A was in their village. A's new house is several hundred square meters. The first floor has a dedicated tea-frying area with seven or eight workers and over a dozen shiny woks. The third floor is a nearly 300-square-meter drying ground with a glass roof and rows of neat bamboo trays on stainless steel racks, quite impressive. Now there are several luxury SUVs. He directly tossed me a key, saying he was busy and I could look around on my own. At dinner, there were still over a dozen dishes, but now each had a story: the chicken was 'garden flying chicken,' the pork was 'garden dwarf pig,' the shrimp was a gift from a customer in Zhuhai, the dried meat was wild boar jerky, and the yam soup was made with wild yams from the mountains and stewed with American ginseng sent by a Shanghai customer. Every dish had a significant origin. The liquor served was an aged sauce-aroma baijiu from a Beijing customer. According to A, the guests at the table, except me, were all wealthy or influential. A handled the socializing very gracefully, and the whole banquet atmosphere was harmonious. The house was luxuriously decorated, and at first glance, it felt like dining in a small banquet hall of the Great Hall of the People. Finally, A said to me, 'Mr. Lü, they have reserved several hundred single-tree teas from my tea garden. I don't have enough now, but you are an old customer. Should I leave some for you?'

I shook my head and said, 'A gentleman does not take what others cherish.'

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