"Tea Talk on Paper" No. 9: The Temptation of Tree Age 2

Today, let's talk about some stories between tea merchants and tea farmers regarding ancient tree tea.

"See that old lady?" the village chief pointed to an old lady sitting by the door of a house not far away, dozing in the sun, and continued, "That old lady said that the ancient tea trees in our village were this big when she was a child, and she doesn't know how many years they've been there. We estimate they must be several hundred years old."

In a village on a famous tea mountain, the village chief introduced the age of their ancient tea trees to Mr. Huang, a tea merchant from Guangdong. Later, Mr. Huang became familiar with the village chief's son, who was in his twenties. After drinking one time, the son told Mr. Huang that those ancient tea trees were actually planted by his father (the village chief) when he was a child, and they are only about thirty years old now.

I have heard multiple versions of such stories, and the tellers often show a hint of helplessness. But those who love ancient tree tea, driven by both personal preference and business needs, continue to search for ancient tea trees in various parts of Yunnan. More and more tea merchants are going deep into the mountains, such as Guafengzhai and Tongqinghe. These places require riding motorcycles, and when the mountain roads become impassable, you have to walk another hour to reach the tea fields. They believe that deep in the mountains, untouched by humans, is nature, that good tea speaks for itself, and that these teas are genuine. So many tea enthusiasts wait at the roadside, scrambling for fresh leaves, and prices naturally keep rising. It is said that many local farmers, carrying a basket of fresh leaves, would take a detour up the mountain and then swagger out, quickly earning tens of thousands of yuan. Of course, this is just hearsay.

Tea farmers wading upstream to the tea trees (photo saved from Moments earlier; I forgot whose it was, sorry)

Tea farmers wading upstream to the tea trees (photo saved from Moments earlier; I forgot whose it was, sorry)

Tea merchants wading upstream to the tea trees (photo saved from Moments earlier; I forgot whose it was, sorry)

Picking tea from tall tea trees (photo saved from Moments earlier; I forgot whose it was, sorry)

There are also many tea farmers who tell the truth. The most common version I hear is this: many tea farmers say that regarding the age of ancient tea trees, they themselves originally had no idea and didn't know its importance. The previous generation didn't tell them how old these trees were, and they never dreamed that tree age could command such a premium. Initially, everyone sold the same way, mixing them with other small-tree tea. Later, many tea merchants came into the mountains to see the tea trees and specified that they only wanted to buy leaves from these large trees, telling them that these trees were very old, some over a hundred years, some over three hundred, and even some said over a thousand years. Only then did tea farmers start to care about the age of their tea trees. At first, they were confused and went along with whatever the tea merchants said, as long as they bought the tea. Later, as more people came, tea farmers gradually began to differentiate. Tea merchants considered some trees big and old, so tea farmers started selling those at higher prices. Eventually, someone would take the lead, and the village chief would organize unified pricing. Many tea farmers near water sources could clearly state the age of their tea trees, and those trees indeed looked very large, so they immediately upgraded them to ancient trees or big tea trees, selling at the same price as those whose age was unknown.

If you go to Lao Ban Zhang this April, you'll see many people guarding under the tea trees, watching the tea farmers pick, chatting, and directing which trees not to pick and which to pick. Otherwise, they take photos and post them on Moments. I've done that too, guarding with a few friends to pick fresh leaves from ancient trees. Later, we analyzed and discussed for a long time and concluded that there is no better way to ensure pure ancient tree tea. Because next to the ancient trees, there are many ecological small trees, and it's natural to casually pick from the small trees. There are even more legends about fresh leaves: some say leaves are hidden on the trees, some say leaves are swapped during withering. So, guarding the picking became common, and some even took the fresh leaves away to process themselves. This is the new, time-consuming and laborious model of Lao Ban Zhang. Of course, those are just legends and hearsay, not to be taken seriously. We only guarded the fresh leaves but didn't take them away for processing.

Merchants pursue profit by buying high and selling high; tea farmers pursue profit by selling high to support their families; consumers pay higher prices for good things; these are all normal. But the real situation is not entirely like that. Let's hear what other voices say.

Tea farmers say many people come up the mountain just to take photos and eat. As soon as they arrive, they want to see the big tea trees. Once at the tree, they start taking selfies: standing under the tree, hugging the trunk, climbing the tree, pretending to pick leaves, etc. If there's internet, you can see them posting on Moments, saying they've arrived at a famous tea mountain, how big the tea trees are, and that they've started cooperation. Those who like to appear cultured even compose a poem (author's note: this sounds a bit like me). Then they go back to the house to eat. The tea farmers are hospitable and usually kill a chicken and prepare wine, and again they take photos and post on Moments, eating the original ecological farmhouse meal. After eating, the tea farmer starts to fix the tea (kill-green), and phones and cameras are clicking nonstop. Often, someone rolls up their sleeves to stir-fry the tea, mainly to demonstrate and take photos for Moments. After that, they never return to that tea mountain or village, nor do they keep in touch. But tea farmers often see them posting information about their village's tea, with photos of goods arriving that look like hundreds of kilograms. The tea farmers think they bought from other households, but after asking around, only a dozen or so households, none sold to them. They say they've never seen or heard of such a large order; several hundred kilograms would require multiple households to supply jointly.

Group photo in front of the Tea King Tree in Lao Ban Zhang (Tea mountain tours are already quite popular; one stop of our second crowdfunding tea's mountain trip was Lao Ban Zhang)

A tea merchant ordered 200 kilograms of Lao Ban Zhang ancient tree tea this spring, paying half the deposit of 600,000 yuan, saying he only wanted pure ancient tree tea, not mixed. Three days later, the tea farmer called to say it was all done, asking him to bring the balance and pick up the goods. The merchant went with a few friends to receive the goods. One friend later talked about it, saying that the merchant looked at the pile of cardboard boxes containing the Lao Ban Zhang ancient tree tea they had ordered, asked a few times whether to open the boxes, but in the end, he didn't dare to open and inspect, paid the balance, and took the tea away. You should know that at that time, Lao Ban Zhang ancient tree tea had just started to be harvested; even the whole village couldn't gather that much ancient tree tea in three days.

Lao Ban Zhang sold in supermarkets, shared by Xie Fang from Lijiang

The Tea King Tree in Lao Ban Zhang has become a tourist attraction

Traffic jam on the road next to the Tea King Tree in Lao Ban Zhang

My first time going up an ancient tea mountain was to Jingmai in the spring of 2011. At that time, I heard information that the official statistics for the annual pure ancient tree tea production on Jingmai Mountain was over 20 tons, but incomplete statistics showed that the market volume of Jingmai Mountain ancient tree tea exceeded 2,800 tons per year. Now, many small-tree teas under forest cover on Jingmai Mountain are also sold as ancient tree tea. The 20-ton figure is definitely far exceeded, and I don't have the heart to question this data. The market situation for Jingmai Mountain ancient tree tea was already this chaotic in 2011, and now it's only worse.

I often ask people—tea farmers, tea merchants, scholars—what's so good about ancient tree tea. The most common answer is the following.

Ancient tea trees are big, with tall trunks, but their root systems are more developed, penetrating deep into the soil, spreading in all directions, able to absorb many nutrients. The tea liquor has a unique charm. Small-tree tea simply cannot produce this flavor, just as the chicken from the market can never match the taste of free-range mountain chicken.

I've eaten a lot of chicken and can compare. Indeed, that's true.

Original article, some images from the internet, author Lu Jianfeng, WeChat: ynwuse, working at 51 Pu'er Net, initiator of Houyue Crowdfunding Tea.