Jiu Zhou Tea House

Author: Zhu Jiaji
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-09-01
Features: Red Dust Station — Jin Yu Xuan Tea House
Every city has its own expression. Some say Kunming is a city with a vague identity. Passersby who rush through here seem to remember only its bright sunshine, azure sky, and simple people. It seems impossible to give it a clear annotation with a universally recognized name. On a dusk when the sun had set and the streetlights began to twinkle, while leisurely strolling after dinner, I accidentally turned and saw this small tea house. The ordinary floor-to-ceiling glass window was engraved with the elegant "Jin Yu Xuan Tea Preface." It was just a small corner, a few simple lanterns, yet it was moved by this extraordinary handwriting. What kind of small world is this, that has its own tea preface and tea philosophy? Only then did I notice that I was standing in an unfamiliar alley, outside a strange tea house. Suddenly, the hustle and bustle of the city seemed to vanish from my ears. The two classical carved doors were tightly shut, and my gaze naturally went upward. I saw an inscribed plaque with three characters — Jin Yu Xuan. Then, I pushed the door open and entered, seeking that stirring in my heart.
On the right wall as you enter, a calligraphy piece with bold strokes was hanging. At the entrance, a pot of wild orchids from Yunnan was placed, blooming gracefully. A cloth lamp cast a soft, gentle light. Turning past the entrance, a large tea table occupying one-third of the tea house appeared before me. An antique cabinet filled with various decorations divided the tea house into two different scenes. Upon closer inspection, the items on the cabinet revealed the owner's careful arrangement. The red hawthorn in the earthen jar quietly illuminated a small corner, while an antique teapot complemented it perfectly. Several delicate small clay figures added a touch of playfulness. On both sides of the cabinet, two ink paintings were hung — one of a lotus and one of an orchid, exquisitely refined. On the other side, a small tea table, resembling a home setting. In the center, a platform hung a Daruma statue, with an ancient qin placed beside it. Simple yet full of meaning. A few people were sitting there drinking tea and chatting.
By the tea table, three people were seated. The one in the middle was a tea artist brewing tea. The girl brewing tea introduced the various tea names faintly to the guests: "This is our 'Golden Daruma' made this year." "You can also smell this one at the bottom of the cup, called 'Listening to Orchids in the Valley.'" Her sweet voice lingered in my ears. My gaze fell upon the Daruma statue on the wall, accompanied by a pair of couplets: "Pu-erh tea opens a hundred orifices to achieve harmony, and Daruma Zen meets one thought not born." At this moment, it seemed as if I began to understand the deeper meaning behind the tea's flavor. The faint orchid fragrance lingered, and in a hidden corner of the tea house, the sound of flowing water could be heard. From the partitioned room inside came a burst of laughter, "Shhh shhh shhh" — cute little giggles. Efforts were made to hush the laughter, to lower the volume, to protect the tranquility of this small world. But little did they know, happiness has a penetrating and infectious power. This feeling was truly incredibly comfortable.
"The next tea is a 'Golden Daruma' ancient tree green cake Pu-erh, called 'The Rhythm of Samadhi and Wisdom.' And now, this aged Pu-erh is called 'The Fragrance Concealed in Truth.'" As the girl performed the tea ceremony, she explained and brewed, her expression composed.