Chapter Seventy-Four: Roasting Tea

“Sigh, my sister-in-law specifically asked me to help her buy more this time.”
“There’s no need to buy anything, we’re family—just take it and enjoy.”
“No, I insist, this really must be paid for.” The man smiled, reaching into his pouch and pulling out a plastic bag containing several red bills. “Last time I brought some back for her, she served it in her shop. One of her guests tasted it there and said this was better than the standardized tea processed in the village, and insisted on buying some. As you see, the money’s already been paid. I’ll bring it back so my sister-in-law can send it to that guest.”
Hearing her son-in-law say this, Aunt Zhang finally relented, accepted the money, and quickly packed the tea leaves as instructed.
“Mom, I can’t stay long this time. I need to hurry back to deliver the tea. In a few days, I’ll come again with San’er. She’s knitting a sweater for you; it should be finished soon.”
After chatting briefly with Uncle Zhang upon his return, the third son-in-law checked the time, swiftly hoisted his now-empty basket, and hurried down the mountain.
With this visit, the third son-in-law had nearly cleared out all the roasted tea leaves. The portion reserved for Xiao Yang had already been set aside. Now, the quantity his son-in-law requested was significant as well; fortunately, the old couple roasted tea whenever they had spare time, so there was a stockpile at home. Otherwise, today's demand would not have been met.
Feeling the pressure, Uncle Zhang skipped his nap and insisted on carrying his bamboo basket out to the tea fields to pick more leaves.
Chen Xin wanted to go along but worried that Zhang Zhang might wander off alone and slip down the mountain. After some thought, she decided to ask Grandpa and Grandma Liu to watch over him for a day so she could go up the mountain and learn tea roasting from Uncle Zhang.
Of course, mastering this craft is not as simple as watching once and then doing it, but Chen Xin already had some foundation. She had simply never roasted this type of tea, which required rolling and kneading, and the precise control of heat could only be grasped through practice.
Uncle Zhang was not the least bit worried about Chen Xin learning his craft.
“Ten or twenty years ago, every family here roasted their own tea. Later, as the elders aged and the young people lost interest, the craft started to fade. Roasting tea is labor-intensive and yields little—just a few pounds a day at most. Our village is remote, with few outsiders coming to buy tea, so the young would rather go out to work than stay home and inherit this skill. Later, machines came in, and even fewer people learned. Think about it—hand roasting yields two or three pounds per batch, maybe ten pounds in a day if you’re lucky. Machines, though, are a production line—they can double that in one go and produce in a day what would take us a month by hand.”
Uncle Zhang was well aware of the convenience of machines, but except for his years in the army, nearly all his life had revolved around tea.

“My father was a tea roaster, too. Back then, my brothers and I all had to help him out. My second brother learned best, but his luck was poor—he fell ill and died just after getting married. My eldest brother passed away seven years ago, never hiding his regret that none of his children wanted to inherit the tea roasting craft. I have two other younger brothers: one works up north, but his health has been poor and he hasn’t come back in years. The other went to war with me, though not in the same unit. When I went looking for him later, I learned he’d been killed in action.”
Uncle Zhang gripped a branch, his gaze drifting beyond the mountain, eyes filled with childhood memories and longing for his brothers.
“I’m old now, too. My son-in-law is a chef, but he’s not interested in roasting tea. I tried to teach him, but he just couldn’t get it. Looks like this craft will be buried with me.” Uncle Zhang shook his head and continued picking tea leaves.
After a moment of silence, Chen Xin asked, “Uncle Zhang, would you mind taking on a female apprentice?”
Many old craftsmen are strictly traditional, passing their skills only to men, which has led to the loss of many crafts.
“It’s not that I won’t take a female apprentice, but for tea roasting, girls are too limited by their strength. The main issue is physical power.”
Uncle Zhang didn’t mean to belittle women; he was simply stating a fact. Roasting tea is not as simple as cooking with a spatula. Especially with this large-leaf variety, the main method is tossing the leaves, which requires considerable arm strength to keep the leaves moving evenly in the heat.
Some women are indeed strong, but in terms of endurance, they generally fall short of men. Even among men, not everyone can handle this job.
Chen Xin, however, had a different view.
She believed hand-roasted tea couldn’t compete with machine tea in the general market, but it could carve out a niche—customized for high-end clients.
It might not seem like much now, but in the future, anything labeled “handmade” would command a price far beyond the ordinary, especially if produced by a skilled master—those works would be worth a fortune.
Of course, that would need to match the real value of the product. For example, this bitterleaf tea could never rival jade or gold. The sky-high prices are only relative to similar items on the market.
Chen Xin didn’t expect herself to become a master, but she could become specialized. Moreover, in the book she was writing, the combination of teas was as important as the pairing of flowers and herbs. If she mastered tea roasting, her book would be all the more convincing.

After expressing her desire to learn, Uncle Zhang did not refuse. He agreed to let Chen Xin follow him and learn—how much she could master would depend entirely on her own ability.
Back at the sanatorium, Chen Xin told Grandpa and Grandma Liu her plan. To her surprise, the old couple became interested as well. Since they were only there for leisure, they decided to join Chen Xin for the trip up the mountain.
The next day, Chen Xin packed some food she’d bought at the sanatorium, and Liu Jianmin helped his mother along, with Grandpa Liu holding Zhang Zhang’s hand in the middle.
The four of them walked slowly behind while Chen Xin carried the supplies and climbed ahead. By the time she reached the mountainside clearing, her legs were trembling.
“Oh dear, Xin, come sit and have some water. You shouldn’t have carried so much up here!”
“Well, Uncle Liu’s whole family wanted to come, so I thought I shouldn’t let you provide for us. I brought some vegetables and meat, and the rest is my way of thanking you for letting me stay these next few days.”
She knew the old couple would refuse money, and even if she wanted to pay, now was not the time. She would wait until she left to offer a red envelope or apprenticeship fee. Later, once her own shop sold this tea, she could help advertise for them as well.
Half an hour later, the Liu elders arrived, greeted Uncle Zhang, and the four elders gathered to chat while picking out stems from the tea leaves.