Tea and Life

 　　Part 1: Tea and Life

　　Tea is a long river flowing in memory, gathering the waves of life, whether high or low, into still ripples in a cup, allowing you to reflect and comment.

　　Tea is a footnote to life, a long-lasting companion throughout life's journey.

　　My grandfather passed away more than ten years ago. He didn't have many hobbies, one being smoking and the other drinking tea. I only remember that every time my grandfather returned from the fields, he would lean against the east-facing table, sitting wearily on that low stool. He would brew a pot of strong, large-leaf tea and drink it silently by himself. The tea was always very hot, but my grandfather would always sip it with a loud smacking sound, making one suspect it was a sweet and delicious brew. I couldn't resist taking a sip myself, but it was bitter and astringent, and I dared not take a second sip. My grandfather would just smile憨憨地, his eyes narrowing into slits, and simply utter a few words to comfort me: "Bitter, isn't it?"

　　At that time, I couldn't understand why my grandfather liked to drink such bitter tea. As I grew older and learned more about my grandfather's difficult childhood, I could

　　n't understand why he, who had struggled his entire life in poverty, had such a deep affection for strong, bitter large-leaf tea. I wasn't a kindred spirit to him; I couldn't comprehend his feelings for tea.

　　I can't remember when it started, but my father also developed a liking for large-leaf tea, though he no longer brewed it so strongly. The bitterness lingered, intermittently, subtly permeating the air. Like my grandfather, my father was a man of few words. Every day before meals, he would sit at the table, his brow furrowed, amidst the smoke, drinking hot large-leaf tea while trying to rest his body, weary from the heavy farm work.

　　My grandfather had high blood pressure and later suffered a stroke. My father was constantly on the go, borrowing money, shuttling between the hospital and the fields, rarely finding a moment of peace. When my father sat at the table again, he had a cigarette in his hand and a pot of liquor in front of him. Homemade cigarettes, inexpensive liquor, and cheap large-leaf tea became his best source of comfort during that time. But he ate less.

　　Grandpa passed away, but Father retained his habits, because life hadn't eased its harshness on him in the slightest. Father not only worked tirelessly for the harmony of the family but also borrowed money from all sides to pay for my tuition. Father became even thinner and more silent.

　　Every time I went home, I would buy two packets of large-leaf tea, one for Father and one for Grandma. Father was always very happy, opening them and smelling the aroma, always beaming with joy, as if he were already immersed in the faint fragrance of tea.

　　Because of a cerebral thrombosis, Father left us early. I didn't inherit the tradition of drinking tea. At that time, I drank too much alcohol, and every time I couldn't control myself, grief welled up from my heart, and drunkenness arose from the cup. Unable to escape, unable to find solace, I only sought a moment of numbness, a fleeting forgetfulness, escaping, cowardly, slowly adjusting myself to move forward in grief.

　　Mother retained the habit of drinking tea. Occasionally, I would buy some green tea, but Mother never liked it. So I only bought large-leaf tea for Mother. Sometimes, my mother would sit quietly, sipping her tea, lost in thought, perhaps thinking of my father. I would put down my chopsticks and drink with her, and she would cheer up. I would only tell her to eat well.

　　If jasmine and Maojian teas are like noble ladies or emperors, then large-leaf tea is like the common people. From its deep orange-red color when brewed to its pale orange-yellow after drinking, its taste changes from intense bitterness to a subtle sweetness. Whether red or yellow, the sediment contains the warmest tranquility and the most beautiful vibrancy; whether bitter or sweet, that tranquility contains a refreshing fragrance, regardless of social status or wealth. Warmth within stillness, lingering fragrance in tranquil waves, sweetness within bitterness, bitterness before sweetness—this is truly the most subtle enlightenment that large-leaf tea offers us.

　　The wispy fragrance wafting in the teacup is not only a memory and fantasy for the middle-aged and elderly, but should also become a spiritual refuge for the young. The fast pace of modern life keeps us busy, burdened by heavy responsibilities, rarely finding a moment of peace. Sometimes, our hearts inevitably race with impatience. Amidst dazzling temptations, we easily become restless, impatient for quick success, and stray from the tranquility of life. In these moments, whenever we have a spare time, let's enjoy a pot of large-leaf tea or green tea with our families. Regardless of price, it can soothe the mind, calm the nerves, and regulate acid-base balance. Only by savoring the true meaning of bittersweetness can we enjoy a happy life.

　　Part Two: Tea and Life

　　I love the tranquil and open flow of tea, the exuberance of a serene and far-reaching sentiment, like poetry and song, leaving a lingering fragrance through the years, profound and moving. Tea encapsulates the spirit of being human, its fragrance lingering and melodious. Whether you are triumphant or disappointed, a cup in hand always allows you to savor different aromatic flavors.

　　Those wisps of fragrance, drifting through time and space, accompanied by the varying shades and clear green of the water, isn't this a true reflection of life?

　　Good friends are like tea, and a virtuous person walks an open and honest path. China has a long history of profound discussions on tea.

　　My earliest encounter with tea philosophy was in Lu Yu's *The Classic of Tea*, where the ancients viewed tea drinking as a form of self-cultivation, akin to composing poetry and prose. Drinking tea with a tranquil mind reveals its unique flavors and evokes a myriad of emotions, much like the beauty of nature.

　　In Japan and some Southeast Asian countries, tea is revered as a spiritual "way," emphasizing a style of natural and harmonious enjoyment, a manifestation of humanistic spirit in the tea-making process.

　　Therefore, tea philosophy is sometimes referred to as "the Way of Tea" (茶道), signifying a path of personal cultivation.

　　China is the birthplace of tea, with countless records and narratives about it spanning five thousand years. If bamboo, orchid, and chrysanthemum represent the proud spirit of ancient Chinese literati, then tea is undoubtedly the enduring embodiment of their refined character and cultivation.

　　Tea culture has a long and rich history in China, and what I admire most is the saying, "Water from the Yangtze River, tea from the top of Meng Mountain."

　　China is a country of towering mountains and crisscrossing rivers, and its unique natural environment is extremely conducive to the growth of tea trees. Therefore, tea is found almost everywhere in China, with the four most famous being West Lake Longjing, Dongting Biluochun, Huangshan Maofeng, and Anxi Tieguanyin.

　　Tea not only has the effects of nourishing the skin and prolonging life, but its fragrant and mellow taste and texture have also made it an excellent gift in traditional etiquette.

　　Drinking and appreciating tea emphasizes the concept of "tranquility." This "tranquility" embodies Confucian culture and also reflects the philosophy of "Buddha" in Central Plains Buddhist culture. It's not about drinking tea for the sake of drinking tea, but about cultivating a tranquil and contemplative approach to life. Appreciating

　　tea brings a sense of calm and tranquility. It cultivates character, allowing one to view the world with detachment, and to remain uncontested among the masses.

　　It is evident that tranquility and appreciation are the two most crucial states of being in the tea ceremony.

　　In China, the two most prestigious places for tea drinking are the Confucius Temple in Nanjing and the streets and alleys of Chengdu, Sichuan.

　　Sipping tea along the Qinhuai River, you experience the ever-changing landscape and profound historical culture of Jinling (Nanjing). The sound of the waves remains unchanged, and the midnight bell tolls for the passenger boats. You feel the breathtaking scenery of the misty Jiangnan region, a landscape reminiscent of a traditional Chinese ink painting. In Chengdu, you truly experience another paradise.

　　Chengdu boasts countless teahouses. Upscale establishments include five-star hotels and teahouses along Renmin South Road, lavishly decorated and expensive. More common spots are found in the alleys, streets, and parks. A flower is a world, a corner a green shade, where the aroma of tea wafts, and tea drinkers are immersed in the beauty of life. Chengdu's tea culture is as famous as the city's cuisine, beautiful women, and mahjong, its reputation spreading far and wide, deeply influencing the young and old alike in this picturesque city.

　　Drinking tea, besides emphasizing a tranquil environment, also requires attention to the beauty of the atmosphere.

　　Savoring life while drinking tea in a secluded setting with water, mountains, flowers, and trees is sure to bring immense joy. One might engage in lively conversation, sit quietly in contemplation, or recite poetry while watching the clouds drift by and the twilight deepen.

　　Everyone has different tea-drinking habits. Some like to gulp it down, while others sit quietly and sip slowly. Some tea drinkers like to brew a strong pot early in the morning, while others sit down only to leave in a hurry. Tea and life truly encapsulate the love and essence of ordinary people everywhere. Lao She's novel *Teahouse*, with its vivid portrayal of various characters, is arguably the most exquisite depiction of ordinary Chinese life. In

　　the language of tea and life, besides emphasizing tranquility, it's even more important to cultivate enlightenment and a genuine reflection on life—that is, "thought." Savoring life in stillness, allowing thoughts to blossom in stillness—this is the great beauty and elegance of life. Reflecting on life in stillness, life unfolds like the fragrant aroma of tea.

　　The language of tea and life teaches us a truth: where there is a path in the heart, there is a great way in the world!

　　Who can disagree?!