Mount Yuming was situated thirty miles from Chuzhou City and rarely saw visitors outside of the first and fifteenth of each lunar month.
Today, however, it was bustling; on this first official day of the Tea Tasting Convention, countless scholars, refined gentlemen, and tea masters had converged here. The tea shacks at the foot of the mountain were filled to capacity. One could see many independent tea merchants holding “tea duels” at every level clearing after clambering up the winding mountain paths. When one emerged victorious, they would summon the tea boys roaming the mountain to bring a wooden plaque and scribe the name of their tea upon it, marking an advancement in rank. The further one ascended the mountain, the higher the grade of tea and the more prestigious the tea houses became; near the summit, any house picked at random was a formidable match for the others. The Fang, Fu, Tao, and Hu families went without saying, but several newly risen elites of recent years also possessed exquisite tea-making techniques and master brewers; none were to be underestimated.
The octagonal pavilion with its upturned eaves was hidden amid clouds of drifting tea fragrance. A gust of wind swept through, dispersing the mist and revealing a golden glow atop its roof.
Wang Xiuhe stood at the foot of the mountain in a simple lotus-patterned gown. Beside her were Fu Shangyi in a crimson-blue cloak and the head of the Tao family, Tao Shikang, who possessed a kind, Buddha-like countenance.
As the eldest among the three, Old Master Tao stood in the center while looking into the distance cheerfully. “The descendants of the Hu family haven’t arrived yet?”
Fu Shangyi replied, “Not yet.”
The head of the Hu family had passed away from illness two years prior, and the current master was of the same generation as Fang Zesheng. It was said that a mountain of domestic trifles had delayed their departure; they would likely need a few more days to arrive.
Tao Xianzhi hadn’t slept well the previous night and had risen early again today in order to rush to Mount Yuming to join his grandfather in welcoming the dignitaries from the capital. Fu Jingxuan stood beside him, staring thoughtfully at a young man in a blue robe who had appeared behind Wang Xiuhe only this morning. Avoiding Old Master Tao’s turning gaze, Tao Xianzhi hid behind Fu Jingxuan to let out a yawn, whispering, “I wonder how Fang Zesheng is doing and if he’s even woken up yet.”
Their group had left the Fang residence one after another and spent the last two days staying at Yunhe Inn; at this moment, no one knew whether Fang Zesheng was dead or alive. Wang Xiuhe claimed to be sick with worry yet she had never made the time to go back and check on him. She had even deliberately sent away all the outsiders from the Fang household, leaving the gravely ill Fang Zesheng alone in bed, ignored and unattended.
Having witnessed the entire process, Tao Xianzhi felt a degree of injustice on Fang Zesheng’s behalf. He remarked sardonically, “Wang Xiuhe has been in an excellent mood these past two days. I suppose she’s finally gotten her wish for Fang Zesheng to be bedridden and just wait for the chance to change the plaque on the Fang residence, hasn’t she?”
Fu Jingxuan remained silent, holding a folding fan in his right hand and tapping it rhythmically against his left palm. The gashes in his palm were nearly healed; when Tao Xianzhi had seen them yesterday and asked how they happened, Fu Jingxuan had brushed him off with a casual excuse.
After finishing his yawn, Young Master Tao stepped out from behind Fu Jingxuan. Noticing that Fu Jingxuan had been staring toward the front left, he followed his gaze. “Who is that?” Tao Xianzhi was referring to the blue-robed gentleman behind Wang Xiuhe; judging by his profile, he was a completely unfamiliar face.
Fu Jingxuan said, “I’m not sure. If I’m not mistaken, he must be the tea-whisking master Wang Xiuhe invited.”
“A tea-whisking master? What master in this world is there that we haven’t seen before?” Young Master Tao’s arrogance was not without reason; the top tea masters under heaven were almost all stationed within the four great families of the Tea Merchants’ Guild. For instance, there was Tao Xianzhi’s grand-uncle and Cheng Xiqiu’s cousin. Originally, the most skilled person at whisking tea in the Fang family was Fang Zesheng’s mother, Xie Junlan. By now, Xie Junlan had long perished in the flames alongside Fang Changru, never again to lift a kettle and fill Mount Yuming with the scent of fine tea.
As a last resort, Wang Xiuhe had to search far and wide for reclusive masters to preserve her current status in the Association. However, while recluses were many, true masters were few. Previously, Liu Ruyan had also sought out many famous teachers for Fu Jingye, but in the end, the most capable ones remained within the Tea Merchants’ Guild itself.
The blue-robed gentleman before them was a complete stranger, appearing to be only around twenty-one or twenty-two years old. Could he truly possess remarkable skill for Wang Xiuhe to value him so highly as to invite him to help?
Fu Jingxuan pondered for a long while, his eyes fixed on the man as his ears tuned in to the conversation between Fu Shangyi and the others.
These people were all respectable heads of tea houses on the surface, yet their gossiping about others was endless. Liu Ruyan was the most enthusiastic, seemingly having long ago sniffed out every sordid detail of the Hu family’s troubles. She even exposed in broad daylight about the fact; unknown to others, that the late head of the Hu family had an illegitimate son.
The blue-robed gentleman, who initially had no expression, suddenly clenched his fists and gritted his teeth upon hearing this.
Fu Jingxuan raised an eyebrow and shot a look of approval toward Liu Ruyan.
It was the third quarter of Sishi[mfn]Sishi is between 9-11am, so it’s around 10:45am here.[/mfn], with the sun high in the sky.
The crowd had waited for a long time, and the dignitary invited by Wang Xiuhe had yet to appear. Just as Tao Xianzhi was about to complain about the oppressive sun, the sound of rhythmic hoofbeats drifted over. The heads of the various tea houses gathered there immediately dispersed, straightening their clothes as they hurried forward to welcome the guest.
A moment later, a plain carriage arrived at the gates of Mount Yuming. A man stepped out; it was the former Grand Official of the Procurement Bureau, Lord Song Kun.
Lord Song was sixty-one years old with hair and beard as white as snow yet his wrinkled eyes were bright and full of spirit. He smiled and gave a slight bow to Wang Xiuhe, saying amiably, “Madam Wang, it has been a long time. When I last saw you, you were but a young girl who had just entered Chuzhou City.”
Wang Xiuhe hastily performed a deep formal bow. “Lord Song has traveled from afar; please, come to the tea pavilion to rest.”
Lord Song waved a hand, nodding in turn to Tao Shikang and Fu Shangyi as he looked out over the mountain full of tea masters. He smiled and said, “No need for rest. I came specifically to witness the elegance of this flourishing age and to savor the fragrance of tea that stretches for miles. We must not delay, we must not delay.””
It was exactly as Fang Zesheng had predicted.
The figure Wang Xiuhe had invited was indeed Lord Song of the Procurement Bureau. Tao Shikang and Fu Shangyi seemed to have guessed this as well; they exchanged a look before joining Wang Xiuhe to escort Lord Song up Mount Yuming. The mountain was currently teeming with independent merchants; it would take several days of ranking matches before it was the turn of the Four Great Families to engage in the “Tea Wars” and finalize the grades.
Lord Song did not need to act as a judge today. After climbing halfway up the mountain, he turned back and was escorted by Wang Xiuhe to stay at Yunhe Inn.
At night.
The masters of over a dozen tea houses dined at the same table as Lord Song. Wang Xiuhe was busy serving wine and arranging dishes with no time for anything else. Fu Jingxuan shared a few drinks with Tao Xianzhi in the inn’s main hall before heading upstairs. Instead of returning to his room, he stood by his door, waiting for something.
A short while later, the blue-robed gentleman he had seen earlier emerged from another guest room. Fu Jingxuan stepped forward, directly blocking his path.
The man started, frowning as he asked, “Who are you?”
Fu Jingxuan introduced himself, then pulled out two sheets of white paper covered in writing and flourished them before the man’s eyes. “I wonder if Young Master Hu would care to step inside with me for a brief chat?”
