LIGHTNOVELSTORY Chapter 3: Ink Tea
Following a covered corridor, Wu Guniang, carrying the copper kettle, walked gracefully toward the back room.
Standing before the door, she hesitated before pushing it open, eventually retracting her hand.
To one side of the door rested a small square stool. On clear days, when it wasn't raining, the tea house owner, Master Wu, loved sitting outside in the sun. But with him currently bedridden from a lingering cold, the stool had gathered a thin layer of dust.
Wu Guniang retrieved a clean porcelain cup from her pocket and placed it on the stool. After pouring in some boiling water from the kettle, she set the kettle at her feet.
After a moment's hesitation, she removed the tea hairpin from her bun, allowing her long, glossy black hair to cascade down like a waterfall.
This gleaming tea twig had been her constant companion since childhood. Master Wu had instructed her with great seriousness that it was a treasured item never to be lost or discarded.
Thus, she had always kept it with her. As a child, when her hair was short, she tied it with a red string around her neck. Once her hair grew long enough to style, she used it as a hairpin.
Over the years, she'd noticed certain peculiar "mystical" traits of the tea twig, such as its resistance to dirt and its remarkable resilience.
However, believing it capable of curing a cold seemed far-fetched to her.
Having grown up surrounded by tea, she was far more knowledgeable about it than those pretentious so-called "tea connoisseurs."
Yet, recalling the handsome gentleman's uncanny knowledge of her secrets, curiosity pushed her to test his claim. What if immersing the tea twig in boiling water really did result in something extraordinary?
With her mind made up, Wu Guniang pinched one end of the tea twig and submerged it into the cup of hot water. Her black-and-white speckled peach blossom eyes fixed unwaveringly on the cup.
In just a single breath, the submerged tea twig began releasing streaks of inky blackness. The black hue spread through the water like tendrils of smoke, quickly transforming the once-clear water into a deep, opaque black.
Wu Guniang inhaled sharply, her expression full of astonishment.
The tea emitted an aroma reminiscent of "Wishing Spring" but layered with an indescribable, unique fragrance.
Just inhaling the scent left her refreshed and invigorated, instantly sweeping away the exhaustion of her many sleepless days tending to the tea house.
The tea twig could actually brew tea, and its aroma alone had such an extraordinary effect!
After withdrawing the tea twig, Wu Guniang examined the cup of "Ink Tea" closely, questions swirling in her mind. Exhaling deeply, she reached out and pushed open the wooden door before her.
The creaky, elongated groan of the door's aged hinges was slightly grating, but the sound gradually faded.
Carrying the cup of "Ink Tea" with great care, Wu Guniang tiptoed into the room.
The room's furnishings were exceptionally simple. A round table sat at the center, bearing a teapot and several teacups.
A single candle cast a faint yellow glow. As Wu Guniang passed, the breeze from her movement caused its flame to flicker unsteadily.
Leaning against a wall was a small bed. Upon it, an elderly man with a pale complexion reclined against some pillows. He smiled faintly as he saw his daughter approach.
"Why are you here so early? Isn't it still raining outside?" he asked.
Seeing her father's lack of concern for keeping warm, Wu Guniang frowned slightly. After setting the "Ink Tea" down on the table, she hurried forward. As she tucked the blanket snugly around his feet, she scolded softly, "Father, why are you sitting up? What if you catch a chill again?"
The elderly man was none other than Wu Guniang's father, the proprietor of the tea house, Wu Zhanggui. Suppressing the sharp pain radiating from his chest, he forced a calm expression and replied, "Lying in bed all the time feels worse. Sitting up for a bit is better."
As he spoke, Wu Zhanggui's long-dormant sense of smell suddenly detected a rich and familiar tea aroma.
Sniff! Sniff!
Excited and confused, he sniffed harder, and his blocked nasal passages gradually began to clear. The rich tea fragrance became more pronounced with each breath.
"Father, wipe your nose," Wu Guniang said, handing him two sheets of slightly yellowed, coarse paper from the bedside.
Wu Zhanggui took the paper and blew his nose forcefully.
After going through four sheets of paper that his daughter handed him in succession, his nasal passages were completely clear—no hint of congestion remained!
At that moment, he could clearly discern the source of the captivating tea aroma.
Throwing off his quilt, Wu Zhanggui swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipped his feet into cloth shoes, and hastened toward the table.
His long period of illness left his movements unsteady, causing him to wobble as he walked.
Wu Guniang panicked, rushing forward to support him. "Father! What are you doing? It's cold outside. Get back to bed!" she pleaded, her brows furrowed in concern.
Wu Zhanggui raised his right hand to signal her to stop speaking. After gently removing her support with his left hand, his trembling hands reached for the steaming cup of "Ink Tea" on the table.
His slightly clouded eyes reflected the "ink-like glow" in the cup.
Staring intently at the tea, he seemed to freeze in place, as if turned to stone.
"Father…" Wu Guniang called softly, seeing no reaction from her father. Just as she was about to explain the origins of the mysterious "Ink Tea," Wu Zhanggui suddenly tilted his head back and downed the entire cup in one swift gulp.
"Ah!" Wu Guniang exclaimed.
She had never imagined that her usually cautious father would drink an unknown, pitch-black tea without so much as a question—and all in one go! By the look of it, one might think he feared someone would snatch it away from him.
The "Ink Tea" tasted sweet as it entered his mouth, spreading like a warm current throughout his body, reaching every corner.
The chill in his body and the sharp pain in his chest disappeared without a trace in that moment.
Still savoring the experience, Wu Zhanggui smacked his lips a few times, as if unwilling to let even the smallest remnant of the tea escape him.
After placing the cup down, Wu Zhanggui exhaled a long breath. His previously pale complexion turned visibly rosy, and fine beads of sweat began forming on his forehead and cheeks.
In mere moments, his undergarments were soaked through, clinging to his body. The sweat dripped down his clothing and even pooled on the floor.
Seeing her father break out into a sudden and intense sweat, Wu Guniang was frantic, stomping her feet in worry. "Father, why didn't you even ask what it was before drinking it?" she scolded.
"Don't worry!" Wu Zhanggui shook his head, wiping the sweat from his face with both hands as if washing it. With a refreshed expression, he declared, "Go pick two pounds of fresh tea tips! Mr. Gu has arrived. I'll prepare tea for him myself!"
Mr. Gu!
Could the handsome man outside really be the great teacher her father had awaited for decades?
But he looked no more than twenty years old!
Wu Guniang was stunned, standing rooted to the spot in bewilderment.
"Hurry up!" Wu Zhanggui urged her.
"Yes!" Wu Guniang snapped out of her daze, grabbed a bamboo basket from the house, and quickly made her way toward the tea garden in the courtyard…