Wang Kai

Wang Kai is a writer， senior media personality and former chief writer of Sanlian Life Weekly. He specializes in lifestyles such as food culture and tea ceremonies.

Wang Kai has spent more than ten years visiting major tea-producing areas， tea lovers and tea studios， getting precious first-hand information， with which he wrote this book. The book combines his experience and years of research to introduce the reader to the world of tea.

Fragrance of Tea：

The Beginning of Understanding Tea

Wang Kai

CITIC Press Group

December 2022

138.00 （CNY）

Local people’s green tea brewing method

I met Lao Luo in Beijing， a painter known as a “tea enthusiast” in the Beijing tea circle. In order to drink green tea， he imitated and fired all the antique tea ware and finally decided that the cups from Song Dynasty had the best shape， then specially ordered a batch of different sizes for himself and his friends. To drink tea with him， you have to undergo a water test first， that is， to drink water from different vessel shapes to find out which is best for you.

Lao Luo started drinking tea during his teaching days — the father of a student was a famous tea expert， and he has made acquaintance with tea ever since. “I was like a crazy man in those years， looking around for good tea to drink， and often argued with people over the quality of tea. For that， people laughed at me， saying I wasn’t looking for tea，" I was looking for trouble.” Apart from painting， his daily life is taken up by tea. To take the most extreme example， he had bought all the famous tea champions at auction for several years. Others say these teas have great potential for value appreciation， but how come he is willing to sell them？ The tea that he exhibited to us， in fact， piled up on the table.

Although Lao Luo spends a lot of time seeking around， he has only twice been impressed by green tea. One was the wild Maofeng he drank in a farmhouse near Tangkou while sketching on Huangshan Mountain. “The appearance was bad， not at all in line with the standards of Maofeng， but the taste was excellent.” Only after asking did he know that the tea came from the edge of the core production area of the most high-grade Maofeng， “a place surrounded by clouds all day long.” The other lasting impression was given by Biluochun tea. Back then， Lao Luo owned some good Biluochun， which， according to the friend who gave it to him， was a gift from the leadership of Suzhou City. Yet when Lao Luo showed the tea to another friend， the friend immediately rebuked it， saying it was not good tea. No doubt unconvinced， Lao Luo went to the friend’s place to experience his Biluochun， and upon drinking， “I didn’t have much to say， and I just knew that one should never be complacent.”

Those well-known good green tea generally rely on their names， for a good name brings a good price. But a real tea drinker should drink tea appropriately because there isn’t much famous tea from the origin of production and even less with quality assurance. Li Jiesheng， a tea expert and a member of the Qualification Evaluation Committee for Researchers of the Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development， told me that good green teas are difficult to achieve large scale production， especially the top grade of famous teas. Having been a judge in the nationally famous tea selection for many years， he told me that “good tea should meet the standards of color， shape， uniformity and purity，” which has strict requirements for the production area. “There are strict requirements for altitude and vegetation. The altitude should be at least 700 meters above sea level but not too high; the surrounding vegetation should be rich. The tea garden should be able to get sunshine， but not too sunny， preferably on the shady side of the mountain. Therefore， the tea gardens of famous tea are not very large， so the output itself is not great， coupled with the fact that nowadays there are fewer and fewer masters who can make good tea， so the number of tea leaves that can be called top quality tea is limited for each variety. Excluding those sent as gifts and shipped abroad for sale， the amount of top tea distributed on the market is not much.”

Compared with the complicated and elaborate process in other places， the tea brewing method is very simple for the locals in Huangshan. There are two reasons; As a Chinese saying goes， “Good tea is not afraid to be brewed repeatedly”; the second reason is that the production area does not attach great importance to the complicated brewing tea method. Even the people of Wuyishan， the origin of Rock Tea， do not use complicated tea sets when making tea， like tea people from other places， but use lidded cups only， which also implies reviewing local tea， to present the advantages of tea but also to face its disadvantages.

The recommended tea brewing master Zheng Yi is the same. Zheng Yi was nearly 60 years old， but when he held out his hands， they were clean and well-maintained as always. He told me that he cut his nails every day， a routine to concentrate on tea brewing — “not to let external things pollute the tea.” When officials visited Huangshan City， he was often asked to brew tea for them because he was good at it. The tea brewed by him could take on an altogether new aspect — it is said that the color， aroma and taste were all brought to the highest level. Although usually the tea was served by attendants and he couldn’t even meet the officials， he was still proud of that， for that was an affirmation of his title as a “tea man.” His main job was as a trade union cadre， which had little connection with the tea industry. If you do not see him brewing tea， you would think he was a common cadre of the locals， especially with the stainless-steel cup in his hand. But you could smell a different fragrance when you opened the cup， the orchid fragrance emanating from the pale， yellow tea broth. There was no tea left in the cup. “This is made with strong tea broth， the most suitable for drinking outdoors，” he said casually.

He called himself “Huizhou tea man.” Compared to “experts” and other names， he felt more comfortable with the “tea man” title. He did not drink tea when he was young. Once on a business trip outside， he got sick. Lying uncomfortably on a bench in the station， he saw a tip saying “green tea can cure sickness” in the newspaper. He tested it on the spot， and the effect was immediate; that was how he fell in love with tea. “I formally learned tea culture from two masters， one of whom studied the history of the tea industry， and he said to me， ‘I have only theory but no practice， and you can not be like me. You should learn to drink tea and brew tea.’” He told me that the teacher’s words profoundly impacted him， and he spent much time studying the tea brewing" method. “Even the cheapest tea， after brewed by me， can give a rich fragrance.” He often brewed a local cheap green tea for friends whom he first met. This tea is very effective in treating colds， and it had a bitter taste， though， somehow， he could make it fragrant.

Set in front of us was the ordinary Huangshan Maofeng， which was not high-grade， and stale tea from last year. Zheng Yi wanted us to enjoy some good tea. When facing the cup， he suddenly became solemn. He poured boiling water into the glass cup and then rolled the cup in his hands， letting the water heat the cup to be transparent and crystal — a skill not everyone can grasp with the scalding heat. That reminded us of what we were told before， that Zheng Yi’s skills could be tasted in your mouth and seen on his hands， that “he could play with blistering hot glass cups.”

Seeing someone bring a bottle of boiling water， he promptly had him boil a new kettle of water. As for the water itself， in the Huangshan area， “tap water is good enough.” In Beijing， people generally use pure or mineral water to brew tea， but Zheng Yi said he had also used tap water. “It’s very simple when the water is almost boiling; just take away the kettle’s lid for a few minutes to let the chlorine inside evaporate. I once boiled tap water in Beijing and used it to brew tea. After drinking it， no one believed I had used tap water.” In Zheng Yi’s view， instead of metaphysically preaching theories such as “speak to the water to make the water quality better” like many tea makers， it was better to study the characteristics of the water seriously. “Tap water has the benefits of tap water， bottled water has the benefits of bottled water.” Sometimes， he also mixed bottled water with tap water to brew tea， “for example， for Tieguanyin， that works pretty well.”

This time， he used Huangshan tap water to make Maofeng， which set requirements for not the quality of the water， but also the temperature of the water. The freshly boiled water was handed to him， and with hardly any wait， Zheng Yi poured the water into the cup. “Other people always say that Maofeng is tender and should be brewed with 80℃ boiling water， but I don’t agree. It’s appropriate to use 90℃ or higher water temperature so that the fragrance and broth emerge faster， and many nutrients can come out in the first brew.” However， he poured only a third of a cup of boiling water the first time. He waited until the dark tea leaves slowly livened up and turned tender green to pour more boiling water. It was said that it would be better to use a lidded cup. “There was no glass in the past， so everyone brewed green tea with lidded cups. For one， it wouldn’t burn the hands; for another， the lid had a wonderful use. It can skim off the foam on the surface. Even the best green tea will have foam， so when brewing tea for people， you must act quickly and be sure to skim off the foam before handing out the teacup.” Another method was to make only half a cup of tea， “so that the foam is not very apparent.” In Zheng Yi’s view， tea should always be brewed for half a cup.

When I went to Huangshan， I arrived a few days in advance when no Huangshan Maofeng had sprouted， even the ones to be first picked. So I did not experience the scene of “tea fragrance floating for thousands of miles with the spring breeze.” Though there was no fresh tea， I still enjoyed the tea gardens that hadn’t been picked， which gave me another kind of pleasure.