At dusk, a scholar stepped along the last lingering ray of the setting sun and arrived at a small county town under a remote commandery city in Ying Prefecture.
The commandery cityâs name was unremarkable, called Changshi, but this small county town had a pleasant name, Yuqian.
The scholar happened to squeeze into the county town just before the city gates were closed. The gatekeeping soldiers were half a quarter-hour late changing shifts, but seeing the scholarâs apologetic expression and his polite smile, they did not feel annoyed.
One of them even kindly reminded him, âSir, do you have relatives or old acquaintances in the city to rely on? If not, then you should hurry. The inns in the city all close rather early. If you go too late, Iâm afraid youâll be shut out.â
But as he said this, the soldier noticed that the scholar was not even carrying any luggage, and he laughed quietly. Perhaps this was someone from the city after all, and he had been meddlesome.
However, the scholar, dressed in a light blue robe that had been washed until it was somewhat faded, nodded in thanks and even asked, âI remember there being a small teahouse in the city, over in the eastern quarter of the town. The name was rather elegant, called Mist Rises, Green Mountains. I wonder if it is still open?â
The soldier froze for a moment, then slapped his forehead and said proudly, âSir, youâve asked the right person. If youâd asked someone else, they definitely wouldnât know the place you mean. Asking me is exactly right. That teahouse doesnât have much business, but itâs still open. The old proprietor is a very good person. Every time I pass by on duty, he always calls me over to drink a cup of tea before I leave." "Sir, are you related to that old proprietor? How about we go together? Iâm heading back after my shift change anyway, and itâs right along the way.â
The scholar thought for a moment and nodded. âThat works.â
Afterward, he quietly stood by the city gate. Once the soldier had changed shifts, the two of them went together toward the eastern quarter.
Having taken off his armor and changed into plain clothes, the soldier walked along and asked curiously, âWhat kind of relationship do you have with the old proprietor, sir? If youâre close, and if you donât have much going on, you really should make time to visit him more often. The old proprietor looks fairly healthy, but itâs been so many years already. You never know.â
The scholar smiled and said, âA distant nephew. I live far away, over in Changban Commandery. Itâs not easy to make the trip.â
The soldier nodded solemnly. âThatâs true. Itâs too far, and the mountain roads in between arenât easy to travel. But these past few years itâs gotten much better, hasnât it? At least the demons outside the city arenât as rampant as before. That Lord Warden Commander really has done quite a lot of practical things for us. Life is looking more and more hopeful.â
The scholar smiled and asked, âIs life really that good?â
The soldier waved his hand and laughed. âIf you say itâs good everywhere, all the time, thatâd definitely be false. But donât things have to be done little by little? The demon trouble in Great Liang has gone on for over two hundred years. Isnât it visibly reduced by quite a lot now?" "Besides, since His Majesty ascended the throne, these past ten-plus years, those high-and-mighty immortals havenât been nearly as arrogant as before. Havenât you noticed? Now the officials who actually keep their word are doing real work, doing good things for the people below. Isnât that something you can plainly see?â
âMy son even knows that meals are eaten one bite at a time, and roads are walked one step at a time. As long as you can see hope, thatâs a good thing.â
The soldier spoke on his own, his face truly filled with cheerful expression.
The scholar could feel his contentment and happiness, and so he nodded as well, softly saying, âIt is fairly good. The world is, after all, getting better.â
âRight, right. The times look one way today and another way tomorrow. Before, it always made people uneasy, but now it feels a lot more solid.â
The soldier accompanied the scholar all the way to a spot in the eastern part of the city. This area was rather secluded. The small tea house was inconspicuous, with a wooden sign hanging outside the door, bearing the words Mist Rising, Green Mountain. The handwriting was crooked and uneven. Forget any sense of elegance; even an ordinary child who had gone through basic schooling would not have written so poorly.
âThis is the place.â
The soldier went up to the door and thoughtfully called out to the old shopkeeper a few times, but no sound came from inside. He scratched his head and laughed. âThe old shopkeeperâs getting on in years. His health is still all right, but his hearing really isnât great. How about I go in and help you look for him?â
The scholar smiled and politely declined, saying there was no need, that he would go see his uncle himself.
The soldier nodded. He was quite tactful, but after sizing up the scholar for a moment, he still said, âThereâs something I might say that doesnât sound very nice, but I still want to say it. Sir, youâre coming to see your uncle, yet you didnât even bring a gift?â
The scholar did not seem offended. Instead, he took out a packet of tea leaves from his sleeve and smiled. âI brought tea specially. My uncle likes many things, but not all that much. If itâs good tea, though, then he truly likes it.â
The soldier gave an awkward smile, apologized, and then went on his way.
The scholar stood at the doorway, watching the soldierâs retreating figure for a long while before finally walking into the tea house, which was small to begin with.
Inside the tea house, there were really only two wooden tables set out. The space was limited, and there was no room for more.
At the counter in front stood a large iron kettle, bubbling and steaming, filling the little tea house with mist, as if it were some immortal realm.
An old man with white hair and beard, his frame hunched, lay in an old bamboo chair behind the counter. As his body rocked, the bamboo chair creaked in response.
The old man seemed unbothered by the noise, keeping his eyes closed as he slept.
The scholar placed the tea on the counter, untied the thin string around it, and spread open the oiled paper, revealing a small cluster of verdant tea leaves.
Just as the scholar opened the packet, the old manâs nose twitched, and he muttered, âGood tea, good tea.â
As he spoke, he frowned, as if he could not quite figure out how there could still be such good tea in the world.
But he soon opened his eyes and sat up, looking toward the counter. His gaze passed over the large iron kettle and landed on the young scholar behind it.
The old man blinked. A trace of disbelief surfaced in his clouded eyes. Just as he was about to speak, the young scholar spoke first, introducing himself. âSurname Cao, given name Chong. Old Lu, you donât remember?â
The old man called Old Lu snorted and muttered, âI donât care whether youâre called Cao Chong or Cao Dog. Whatever makes you happy.â
âBrew the tea.â
The scholar could not be bothered to say more to this old fellow at this moment. He turned instead to one of the wooden tables and slowly sat down.
âAt least you still knew to bring some good tea to see this old man. Otherwise, no matter what your name is, this old man would have to call you heartless.â
The old man reached out and took two large bowls, grabbed some tea leaves and tossed them in, then tossed a pinch of tea leaves into his own mouth as well.
He smacked his lips, somewhat satisfied.
The scholar said helplessly, âThat was so many years ago, ancient sesame seeds and rotten millet. Why keep holding onto it?â
The old man poured hot water from the large iron kettle to brew the tea, then carried the two large bowls to the table and snorted coldly. âNo matter how many years pass, is the fact that youâre a heartless man ever going to change?â
As he spoke, he pressed the two bowls heavily onto the tabletop. The tea inside rippled violently, yet not a single drop spilled over.
The scholar called Cao Zhong looked at the tea bowls and laughed in exasperation. âThis is how you drink tea nowadays?â
âSo what? These days, this old man brews tea however I want, drink it however I want. Who dares say anything about it?â
The old man sat down across from the scholar, even extending a finger to stir the tea inside the bowl.
Cao Zhong sighed. âIf those girls who saw what you looked like when you were young knew youâd end up like this, Iâm afraid every single one of them would sigh, with hearts breaking all around.â
Back when the old man was young, he had been handsome as jade, with an imposing and elegant bearing. In those days, who knew how many noble young ladies had spent lavish sums just to sit by his side and watch him brew tea.
But now, there was not the slightest trace of that former grace.
The old man couldnât be bothered to respond. He lifted the tea bowl and gulped down a huge mouthful. At this moment, the way he drank made it seem as though what he held was not tea brewed from priceless leaves, but the kind of coarse bowl tea from roadside tea stalls, the sort you could drink freely for a single Great Liang coin.
Cao Zhong lifted his own bowl, took a sip, and nodded in satisfaction. âNot bad. Your tea-brewing skill hasnât declined. Still, no matter how you look at it, itâs not elegant.â
The old man sneered. âElegant? Romantic? What use is that crap? Can it fill your stomach?â
Cao Zhong glanced at the old man and frowned. âSeems like youâre carrying quite a bit of resentment. Is it toward me?â
The old man sneered, âHow could I dare to hold it against you? If your disciples and apprentices knew, wouldnât each of them spit on these old bones of mine to drown me?â
Cao Zhong smiled, âSeems like I donât really have any disciples or apprentices anymore.â
âRetribution, retribution!â
The old man clapped his hands, his face turning slightly red, as if he were genuinely pleased.
Cao Zhong sighed, rubbing his cheek, and said with some melancholy, âI know you have grievances, but itâs surely more than just because of the âunfaithful manâ thing. You also have to consider, in my lifetime, Iâve been disappointed with this world for far too long.â
âDisappointed?â
The old man narrowed his eyes. âDisappointed about what? What the hell kind of world did you want to see? You only thought about seeing it, but did you put even half a bit of effort into shaping the world you wanted?â
âOh, you set things in motion, but that was just the start, and then you left it alone, watching coldly from the sidelines!â
The old man spat.
Cao Zhong frowned. âSome things canât be done by one person alone.â
âCanât be done by one person?â
The old man spat again. âWhat about Old Yue? Doesnât that guy know this principle? Still ended up dead, didnât he? He said heâd die, and he died. You keep talking about wanting to change the world, but when it mattered, did you contribute even a little? After standing by and watching, you still have the nerve to shamelessly say, âIâve long been disappointed in this world.â Are you kidding me?â
Getting worked up, the old man looked around as if searching for a handy object, about to strike the young scholar before him.
The young scholar said nothing, only shook his head.
The old man paused, then heard footsteps approaching outside the door.
A voice called out, "Can I still get some tea, Shopkeeper?"