Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Precious Teahouse - 1. Chapter 1
Tea leaves
tea loves
loves tea
lives tea
leaves tea?
Never
~Uniek Swain
One
“This tea house is not for sale,” Ziyu Yin yelled angrily, his dark brown eyes flashing with anger. “Please let yourself out.”
“You’re kidding yourself if you think you can survive in this economy.” Dan Hao, the owner of Chacha Coffee, a popular coffee house chain, stood and pulled out a card from his wallet and placed it on the table. “I heard you have a loan at the bank that is overdue. If you take my offer, you’ll be able to have money to do something else. Ziyu, if you hold on to this teahouse like this you’ll end up with nothing.”
Ziyu looked away from Dan Hao and cursed the town gossips for the millionth time. He was going to die before he gave up his family’s legacy.
“Fine, suit yourself. You know where to find me when you change your mind.” Dan Hao gave him a short bow and strode out of tea house in fast assured steps.
The moment the door closed, he dropped his face into his hands and wondered if he was making the right decision. Any sane person would sell, take the money and go do other things. He shook his head and lifted his head to take in the main floor of the Precious Teahouse.
He’d grown up in this tea house. When he’d been eight, he and his sister had raced around the delicately carved wooden tables and chairs while their mother swept the floor in the morning. At sixteen, he’d worked part time as a waiter, expertly taking orders and serving tea to customers. His sister had learned how to dance in the back room and would often perform on Fridays and Saturdays on the stage their father had built in the middle of the main floor. Tao Yin had insisted that a stage in the middle of the tea house gave every one the chance to see the performance equally.
Peony flowers grew on small boxes along the walls and by the separators. His mother had called it giving elegant privacy. Upstairs, there was a separate room for special occasions and also a tatami room for a tea ceremony if needed. His house was on the third floor where he’d lived almost all his life.
He’d inherited the tea house after his parents died two years ago in a car accident. His sister, who’d married a business man and moved to the capital, had told him to keep her share of the tea house. How could he give up twenty-five years worth of memories?
“Drink this,” a soft voice interrupted his thoughts and he glanced up to find Chen Ling, his chef, placing a cup of hot jasmine tea before him. “You look like you need it.”
She took Dan’s seat and picked up the card. “He must spend a fortune on these cards.”
“Keep it if you like.” Ziyu took a sip of his tea and wondered how he was going to start making ends meet. “I’m half afraid I’m going to actually call that bastard.”
“I would,” Chen said with a shrug. He gave her a skeptical glance and she chuckled. “What? He’s handsome, owns Chacha Coffee chains around the country so he’s rich, if he wasn’t married, I’d go for him.”
“You’re such a gold digger.” Ziyu grumbled under his breath and sat back in his seat. “So, what are you still doing hanging in here with me?”
“I’m addicted to your charm.” Chen gave him a wide smile and glanced around the tea house with a sigh. “It’s good you gave Jade and Lee their lunch hour, otherwise this visit would have been the talk of the town once again.”
Ziyu moaned and shook his head. “Dan knows about the bank loan.”
“No wonder he was so confident walking in here. He thought you were going to cave in and sell.”
“I can’t, Chen.” Sentiment was going to get him into a deeper hole, but he simply couldn’t give up on the tea house.
“I know, after all, this place is precious.” Chen reached over to take his hand.
He met her gaze smiling at the reference to the name of the tea house. “Precious is going to get us broke and living on the streets.”
“Well,” Chen shrugged just as the doorbell rang and they both glanced up to see their visitor. “I’m sure destiny is going to walk in soon and save us.”
*****
San Meor walked into the Precious Teahouse and glanced around the empty bright elegant main floor. Jasmine scented the air and he wondered if he really had come to the right place. His father had insisted it would be the most popular tea house in the city, but the place was disturbingly empty.
He glanced at the paper where his father had written the address carefully and frowned. He wasn’t wrong, this was the right place.
“Welcome to the Precious Teahouse. My name is Ziyu. I’ll be your host.”
He glanced up from the paper to find a striking young man standing a few feet away. When his host raised his head, San stared at the gorgeous brown eyes looking at him curiously. Expressive, and welcoming, he read sadness in their depths and wondered why.
“I’ll show you to your seat.”
San blinked and shook his head hoping to finish his delivery quickly. If it was possible, he wanted to head back home within the hour. “I’m looking for Tao Yin. I was told he owned this tea house.”
His host bowed slightly. “I’m sorry, but Tao Yin passed away two years ago. I’m his son, maybe I can help you.”
“Passed away?” San stared at the paper he held with a short frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Please, come in, have some tea,” his host offered quietly.
He was led to a secluded table by a garden window. Once he was seated, a lady brought him a tray laden with a tea pot and cup.
His host poured tea into the cup and asked in a polite voice. “What is your business with my father?”
“What did you say your name is?”
“Ziyu Yin.”
“Ziyu, please seat with me.” He waited for the younger man to sit before he sipped his tea. “My father sent me to your father on an errand.”
“Who is your father?”
“My name is San Meor. My father is Dahari Meor, a tea grower.”
“Oh,” Ziyu said with a bright smile. “He must have supplied tea to my father years ago. I was sure I told everyone about my father’s death.”
“It’s no worry. It must have been a hard time for you.” San gave Ziyu a small bow to show his respect for the departed Tao Yin. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Ziyu nodded and sat with his hands folded on the table. He was a handsome man, San decided as he sipped his tea. A delicate blend of green tea that left him feeling warm and wanting more. He studied Ziyu over the rim of his cup, taking in his elegant sinewy body and handsome face. Ziyu looked to be about twenty-one.
It must have been hard for him to lose his father, San thought sadly. He couldn’t imagine not seeing his eccentric Dad. They might disagree on everything but he cherished that old man.
He cleared his throat and looked around the empty shop. “Do you run the tea house alone?”
Ziyu nodded and smiled. “I have a small staff. Business has been slow today so I gave them a few hours off. That’s why you don’t see anyone in here.”
He’d noted a Chacha coffee house down the street on his way in. He frowned. “I’m surprised you’re still open. Every other town I’ve been to, the moment the big coffee houses show up, the locally owned tea houses have closed down.”
“We’re managing,” Ziyu said with a strained tone.
“It must be hard then.” San insisted wanting the admission from the younger man.
Ziyu gave him a short glare before he caught his manners and awarded him a brilliant smile. “The Precious Teahouse will stay open despite Chacha.”
San bit back a smile and nodded. “I see great enthusiasm.”
Ziyu sat back in his chair. “We’ve been open for three generations, I’m not about to be the one who closes it down.”
San sipped his tea and looked around the elegant dining room. He could imagine a live performance on the stage, while customers drank and ate their dinner in a charming, lovely atmosphere.
“Will you tell me why you were looking for my father?” Ziyu asked him softly.
San returned his attention to the young man and nodded. “Yes. My father asked me to relay a proposal to your father.”
“What kind of proposal?” Ziyu asked giving him a wary glance.
San reached into his jacket and pulled out a black lacquered box. He placed it on the table and pushed it to Ziyu. “Open the box.”
San watched him open the delicate wrapping in the box and stared at the round package wrapped in green paper.
San smiled. “Make us some tea, Ziyu.”
Ziyu put the wrapped package back in the box. He stood up, excused himself and headed to a set of swinging doors he assumed led to the kitchen.
San called his father while he waited for Ziyu to return.
“Did you find Tao Yin?” Dahari Meor asked with excitement.
“No,” San said with regret. “He passed away two years ago. I found his son, Ziyu Yin.”
His father remained silent and he looked around the tea house. “I’m sorry, Father.”
“Is the tea house still open?” Dahari asked with a curt tone.
“Yes. I’ve given Ziyu the tea.”
“Very well, then you make the decision, son. I’ll take what you decide.”
San hang up soon after and put his cell phone away just as Ziyu returned.
*******
“Who is he?” Chen asked when Ziyu walked into the kitchen carrying the box with the aged Pu’er tea. She was busy preparing for the evening rush. Despite the coffee shops around, their evenings were always busy.
“He wanted to see my father,” Ziyu replied opening the box to show her. “Look, this is Pu’er Green tea, rare.”
She took the box and studied the round package. “Was he your father’s supplier? Do you know what this would do for this tea house, Ziyu? If he offers you more of them we’re going to be rich.”
Ziyu laughed and shook his head. “You’re so money hungry, Chen.”
“Someone has to be, my dear.”
He put on water in a temperature controlled kettle and went about collecting the tea cups, pot and sieve. “Dad was a tea master. I think that’s why San Meor came here.”
“Looks like you’re serving Gong Fu Cha.” Chen closed the box. “It must have been a shock to discover that your father was gone. Where do you think he’s from that he didn’t know about your father’s death?”
Ziyu shook his head at a loss. His parents’ funeral had been filled with many business associates and family friends. He’d thought everyone had known about Tao Yin’s death. He opened a door beside the store and walked into the small room he used for family guests and tea ceremonies. His aunt had come to see him just this morning and he’d treated her with some Oolong tea.
He arranged the tea pot and cups on the tea tray set in the middle of the table and returned to the main kitchen. The kettle whistled and he turned it off.
Chen handed him the box and shook her head in disappointment. “Well, I’d hoped he was bringing good news to this place. Seems like destiny passed by the Precious Tea House today.”
“Stop complaining and start getting ready. You’re in charge out there. You’d better call Jade and Lee before you’re swamped.”
“Yes, master,” she mocked a salute and hurried for the house phone.
He took the kettle and box into the small room and hurried to the main floor to invite San Meor for tea.
******
Tea is drunk
to forget the din of the world
– Tien Yiheng
Two
“Do you have siblings?” San asked Ziyu watching him pour hot water into the empty tea pot on the tray.
“Yes, one sister.” Ziyu closed the lid on the tea pot and poured hot water over the pot. “She lives in the capital with her husband.”
“Wasn’t she interested in the tea house?” San asked.
Ziyu gave him a small smile. “She loves business more than she does management.”
San chuckled. “You’re the one that loves management?”
Ziyu put water in their cups and the strainer. “I’m partial to sentiment.”
“Is that why you’re holding on to this tea house?” San asked.
Ziyu emptied the water in the strainer on the tray. San watched with fascination as the water disappeared under the warm wood into the collecting tray under the wood. It had been a long time since he’d been served tea in the traditional way. Ziyu’s hands moved with practiced grace.
“I grew up in this tea house.” Ziyu spared him a glance as he emptied the water in the teapot into the strainer. He gave the pot a few shakes until there was nothing left. “It’s hard to let it go because of the memories. I would not want to disappoint my parents.”
“Your parents would not be disappointed in you for protecting yourself.” San noted the wince on Ziyu’s expressive face.
Ziyu used tongs to add a portion of the tea leaves he’d brought in to the teapot. Hot water followed and Ziyu covered the teapot. He poured water over the tea pot and set the kettle in it’s holder beside him.
“Then, we can say I wouldn’t forgive myself if I gave up the tea house,” Ziyu said meeting his gaze with keen dark eyes. “I want to make the Precious Teahouse prosper despite the competition. I believe in this place more than I dare express to you, a guest, San Meor.”
“Spoken like a true tea master.” San complimented. Ziyu held his gaze for a moment before he used tongs to empty the cups. “Who taught you how to serve gong fu cha?”
“My mother,” Ziyu said with a fond smile. “She’d sit with me in the living room upstairs when I was young. She’d tell me old tales while she served tea. As I grew up, she’d tell me tales and I’d serve her tea.”
“Would you tell me one?” San asked as Ziyu poured tea into the strainer artfully. The earthy scent of Pu’er tea filled the room, his taste buds waited in anticipation.
Ziyu poured the tea into their cups and San waited for his cup. He frowned with disappointment when Ziyu proceeded to pour the tea out. Draining away the first brew from his precious tea leaves.
Ziyu smiled when he saw his disappointment. “We must rinse the leaves, San. I’ll tell you one of the stories my mother told me to pass the time to the second brew.”
San folded his hands against his chest and waited for the tale as Ziyu poured out the tea in the strainer and made sure the tea pot was empty again.
“Ages passed; the emperor had a son who was to take over the throne when the time came. Knowing and accepting his fate, it was with deep regret that the Prince fell in love with a young tea master outside the palace walls. Their love was strong and deep, and though the prince couldn’t be with him, the young tea master understood. When the Emperor died, the Prince inherited the Empire and with it a wife that would unite the neighboring kingdom with his.”
Ziyu presented him with a cup of tea and San felt his earlier irritation disappear. Taking the cup, he sipped the tea and nodded his head with approval. He savored the smooth, rich, earthy sweet taste. It was delicious.
Placing the tea cup on the table he smiled at Ziyu. “What happened after the new Emperor was married?”
Ziyu poured him another cup and continued. “The new Empress arrived at the palace ready to love her new husband. But as time passed, she slowly came to realize that her husband’s heart belonged to another and that he would never love her. One night, she sent a spy to follow the Emperor when he went to visit the young tea master. When she discovered who the Emperor loved, she got very angry and decided to punish her Emperor husband.”
“She sought help form a wizard and asked him to curse her husband soul. She asked that he should live forever in his eternal love in the form of a white dragon spirit.”
San drunk his tea and considered that for a moment. “Wouldn’t that be a reward, Ziyu? The Emperor would be with his lover for ages to come.”
Ziyu nodded and poured him more tea. “Yes it would seem so, and when the Emperor heard news of the curse, he smiled in joy thinking as you do. When the Emperor grew old, and his mortal body ceased to function, his spirit lived on alive in the form of a white dragon. His lover died and when he was born again in the next generation, the white dragon spirit was unable to be with him. So, the Emperor’s spirit wonders alone from century to century in search of the wizard who would break the curse so he can be with his lover.”
“That’s a tragic story, Ziyu.” San sighed.
Ziyu laughed. “You asked for a tale.”
San sipped his tea and studied Ziyu enjoying the curve of Ziyu’s smile. His eyes were bright with animation from telling his tale.
“Do you believe in fated love?” San asked Ziyu.
“Sometimes,” Ziyu replied adding water to the tea pot.
“Why do you say sometimes?”
Ziyu glanced at him with a sad smile and shrugged. “You’ll think me jaded if I answer your question, San Meor.”
“You have to answer it now,” San insisted. Ziyu added him more tea and he suddenly realized that the taste had changed to a mellow addictive taste. It was better than the first sip he’d taken. “Please?”
Ziyu chuckled. “I’ve read so many books, watched too many movies, and seen my sister marry. My childhood friends are all happy with families. I’ve always wondered why I can’t find the magic they seem to have found so easily. May be I’m not lucky like they are.”
“May be you aren’t looking for love. If you tried, you might find it.”
“Should we actively look for love or wait for it to come to us?” Ziyu asked.
San paused in the act of sipping his tea. He’d never considered what kind of love he wanted. He’d spent his life perfecting the tea they were drinking and running his family’s tea farm in the highlands. Perhaps love was a subject left to poets.
“I don’t know. It seems to work both ways,” San said thoughtfully.
A soft knock came on the door, and a young woman peeped in with a small bow. “I’m sorry to disturb, but we have a customer asking for you, Ziyu.”
“I’ll be right there,” Ziyu said and turned to him. “I’m truly sorry that you didn’t get to meet my father. You’d have liked him.”
San glanced at his watch discretely. “Thank you for serving me tea, Ziyu.”
Ziyu bowed and stood. San followed suit and allowed Ziyu to show him out of the small room. The kitchen was alive with activity; Chen seemed to be conducting an elaborate operation on different counters. San waved at her as he followed Ziyu.
When they stepped out into the main hall, San was surprised to find the main dining room full of customers. Two hosts darted from table to table taking orders. Ziyu’s determination to keep the tea house open was definitely not out of madness.
Ziyu stopped at the reception. “Please visit again,” he said formally.
San gave him a short nod and hurried out of the tea house. He was late for his next appointment, another tea house in the next town.
******
- 22
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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