Chapter 76: Teahouse

“All right, Dahe, hold Fubao. Let’s hurry and get there quickly. We need to return early. The porcelain teapot and cups are far too valuable—any mishap on the way would be disastrous. If we can’t sell them today, we’ll have to carry them back. Don’t take too long.”

Zhang Jinlan carefully placed the tea set into a carrying basket.

Worried it might break, she wrapped the set in two layers of cloth and added a thick layer of straw underneath.

Jiang Dahe lifted Jiang Fubao in his arms.

The group left their home and headed toward the town.

This time, they moved quickly.

By mid-morning, the four of them had already reached the city gate.

After queueing for the guards’ inspection, they entered the city and wasted no time, heading straight to Youyuan Street.

This street had several teahouses, along with banks and academies. The residences here belonged to wealthy families and scholars.

Originally, Zhang Jinlan had planned to set up a stall here.

But Jiang Eryong stopped her with a word.

“Mother, why don’t we first inquire at the teahouse? Most teahouses have private rooms on the second floor. The people who come to drink tea are of high status. They’ll surely have good tea sets to serve them. Let’s ask if they would buy ours first. If we set up a stall blindly, we might not get a good price.”

A few years back, Jiang Eryong had helped deliver goods for the teahouse, so he knew better than Zhang Jinlan.

“All right, let’s do as you say. We can ask first. If they don’t buy, that’s fine; we’ll go to other places or set up a stall later,” Zhang Jinlan agreed.

They arrived at the nearest teahouse.

This teahouse had three floors.

The first floor was the main hall, filled with casual customers drinking cheap tea.

In the center stood a storyteller, passionately narrating a tale.

“Eight hundred years ago, a scholar took a boat to the imperial exams. Midway, the boat drifted into murky waters. Suddenly, light rain fell. Instantly, a white fog enveloped the scene. Everyone on the boat, except the scholar, fell unconscious. The scholar’s hair stood on end, and just then, a melodious song floated in from outside the boat…”

The elderly storyteller’s voice fluctuated between deep and high tones, drawing everyone’s attention.

Even passersby outside the street paused, curious.

Jiang Fubao, however, wasn’t interested.

All she could think about was how much the teapot could sell for.

“Esteemed guests, would you like some tea? There’s a table inside. Please come in and sit.”

The waiter’s eyes were sharp. After serving other guests, he quickly approached to greet them.

“No, no, we’re not here to drink tea. May we see your manager?”

Jiang Eryong waved his hands repeatedly.

“The manager is here. What do you need from him?”

The waiter treated them politely.

Even though they were dressed in patched clothes and clearly looked poor, he didn’t look down on them, unlike what Jiang Fubao had feared.

“Our family has an ancestral tea set. The craftsmanship is exquisite, and it’s been well preserved. But as poor farmers who barely have enough to eat, what use do we have for it? We thought it better to sell it.

We just arrived in town and happened to see your teahouse. Could you please call your manager and see if he’s willing to buy this set? If not, we’ll try another place.”

Zhang Jinlan took over the conversation.

She didn’t tell the truth but made up a story instead.

“All right, I’ll ask the manager. Don’t stand at the door—come with me to the back.”

The teahouse business was mediocre; the second and third floors were almost empty, and the first floor was not full.

Customers only ordered cheap tea, earning little profit.

The waiter worried that blocking the door would affect business, so he led them to the courtyard.

“All right, thank you. We’ll follow you,” Jiang Eryong said, bowing and smiling obsequiously.

Jiang Fubao noticed this and felt a little sorry.

The family was so poor that even her second uncle had to flatter a waiter.

He looked like a thug, so watching him fawn over someone was amusing.

Jiang Fubao, held by her uncle, followed to the courtyard.

The courtyard was beautiful.

There was an artificial pond with a few red and white koi.

A stone table with four stone stools sat by the pond.

From the third floor, the view would be spectacular.

“Please sit and rest a while. I’ll go get the manager,” the waiter said, pointing to the stone table before disappearing into a side room.

Within a minute, he returned.

“The manager only just woke up. Please wait a bit; I need to handle something first. Once he’s ready, you can speak to him yourself.”

“All right, go ahead,” Jiang Eryong chuckled, watching him leave.

After about fifteen minutes, a man in his thirties, smelling of alcohol, emerged from the room.

“You’re looking for me? What tea set are you selling? Show me.”

He strode to the stone table, which had exactly four seats.

Zhang Jinlan took one, Jiang Eryong another, and Jiang Dahe with Fubao another.

“This tea set is ancestral. My forebears fled from the north and settled here in Lianshan Town. The family was once prosperous. Over the years, we sold all our property, leaving only this set.

We planned to keep it, but due to drought, the rice wouldn’t grow. The family can’t even fill our stomachs, so we reluctantly decided to sell the heirloom. Please have a look.”

As she spoke, Zhang Jinlan took the tea set from the basket.

Only a fraction of what she said was true.

Her parents were long gone, so there was no way to verify.

She placed the tea set on the stone table: the teapot, four cups, and the bamboo tray.

Luckily, it had no inscriptions, only a bamboo pattern.

“Whoa, I’ve never seen such a delicate little teapot.”

The teahouse manager’s murky eyes lit up.

He carefully picked up the teapot, examining it closely.

His admiration grew.

“Peach branches in bloom, the porcelain looks smooth and soft, feels like jade but surpasses jade. Like it’s coated in butter, yet more like fine silk. Wonderful! Truly an heirloom. And ice-crack glaze! Which kiln made this? What shape is this teapot? I’ve never seen it before.”

He kept marveling, holding the teapot tenderly.

“This teapot has a nickname—Xishi Teapot. As for the kiln, I don’t know. My parents are gone, and I was too young to ask.”

Zhang Jinlan learned this from Jiang Fubao.

“Xishi Teapot? What a good name! But I’ve never heard of Xishi before. What’s the story?”

The manager looked puzzled and turned to Zhang Jinlan.