Chapter 4

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Bai Qingyu gently rubbed her son’s head. “Because Daddy wanted to take you out to eat grilled sausages. Are they tasty?”

Bai Xiaocha nodded, the soft flesh on his cheeks trembling slightly. “Tasty.”

After the spring rain, the night air turned sharply chilly. Besides the small stall stubbornly selling grilled sausages near the subway entrance, the streets were almost deserted. Bai Qingyu pulled her son closer, shifting her body to shield him from the wind’s direction.

Tea spirits rarely fall ill unless the weather is so harsh that even the mountain tea trees wither; only then would they weaken. But being cold was uncomfortable.

Bai Qingyu placed her palm on Bai Xiaocha’s forehead to shield him from the wind. They had left in such a hurry and hadn’t anticipated spending the night outside. If only she had brought a hat.

“Daddy, hold this for me.” Bai Xiaocha rubbed his palms hard and pressed them against his father’s neck. “It’s warm.”

The tender palms produced only limited warmth, but Bai Qingyu still humored him, “Very warm.”

A citizen out walking their dog at night noticed the inseparable father and son. They slowed their steps, hesitated while patting their jacket pocket and then their pants pocket, finding nothing. Finally, with a conflicted expression, they were led away by their large dog while fumbling for their phone.

That kind-hearted citizen would probably regret all night long that they hadn’t brought any cash.

Under his father’s care, Bai Xiaocha finished the grilled sausage, his eyes sparkling. His irises resembled Bai Qingyu’s, tinged with a faint amber like tea soup. Yet his fine hair was very black, gleaming like obsidian sunlit to its fullest.

Just as Bai Qingyu was about to rough it out for the night in the bank’s self-service lobby, the butler finally messaged him, asking if Bai Xiaocha was asleep. If he was, he should be carried in through the back door quietly to avoid making noise. Crossing the fire line with the child awake was far too dangerous.

Looking at his son still licking the bamboo skewer with lingering delight, Bai Qingyu replied, “Sleeping.”

The butler exhaled in relief when he saw the second-floor window go dark and came to the door to receive Bai Qingyu.

He even brought a box for Bai Qingyu to carry the child in, demonstrating his care by selecting a very high-end tea box.

“If you’re seen, just say you’re moving tea leaves. Mr. He has a hobby of collecting fine teas.”

Bai Qingyu nodded firmly.

Upstairs in the dark, He Renyuan sat quietly by the window, a cold cup of tea beside him.

In recent years, he often suffered from insomnia at night. Unable to sleep, he would self-destructively consume caffeine from tea leaves.

A notebook lay open on the table, listing events from three years ago that spring. Some he remembered, others he retrieved through work schedules, surveillance footage, and others’ testimonies, pinpointing what happened down to the minute. He was meticulous about time, refusing to let any moment slip into a confused shadow.

Yet time itself had no breaks, only that he had lost consciousness for several hours after falling down the cliff. Still, He Renyuan firmly believed a significant chunk of his memory was missing.

Otherwise, how to explain the tea leaf tattoo that had mysteriously appeared on his lower back?

The doctor’s explanation was that he’d lost the memory fragment of getting the tattoo before the fall.

Really? But he had painstakingly retrieved all his pre-fall memories by every means, every second accounted for, with no gaps to fit the tattoo.

He Renyuan drank the now cold tea, reached to pour more, then realized the pot was empty. Tea helped him recall the past, but its effect was waning.

He stretched his long legs and stood to refill his cup, feeling restless. Uncle Qi had said his tea drinking was self-destructive and had locked the family’s tea in the first-floor cabinet, preventing him from keeping it upstairs within easy reach.

He had to go downstairs.

At the stairwell, He Renyuan sensed someone ascending. The footsteps were light and not from family members.

No thief would be foolish enough to sneak here; it must be the new nanny—healthy but not very bright.

He Renyuan stopped, and the next moment, he came face to face with the unfamiliar figure tiptoeing with a bundle.

Suddenly meeting a stone-faced person at the corner startled even a tea spirit.

Though the lights were off, the streetlight through the stairwell window faintly illuminated his employer’s sharp features. His brows and eyes carried an oppressive aura as if dragging anyone who met his gaze into a sunless abyss.

Previously, He Ying and the butler had warned Bai Qingyu about the employer’s bad temper, but Bai Qingyu hadn’t taken it seriously. He was a tea spirit; would he fear mere human wrath?

Bai Qingyu hugged the box nervously. Some humans were truly frightening.

He Renyuan’s gaze first fell on the tea box in Bai Qingyu’s hands and the fair, slender fingers holding it. Because of his passion for tea, business partners often arranged meetings in tea houses. He had seen many pairs of skilled hands preparing tea, but none suited holding white porcelain, brewing by the stove, and exchanging cups as well as these.

The thought flashed briefly. He Renyuan’s eyes moved upward to meet a face almost lost in the crowd.

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Bai Qingyu forgot the agreed story with the butler and, seeing He Renyuan’s eager look for the box, nervously said, “The butler said the leftover tea in this box got damp and is no good anymore. I can take it.”

He Renyuan didn’t even know how much tea was in the house. He’d become numb from drinking so much, no longer caring about tea quality. To him, thickness or strength made no difference. He only cherished the strange link between tea and memory, but that bond was fading.

Yet at this moment, the faint tea aroma at his nostrils, delicate as a slender thread, stirred ripples in his mind, like the first tea he drank after waking.

His voice was low and cold: “Give me a packet.”

Bai Qingyu stressed, “It’s damp.”

He Renyuan frowned. “I know.”

Bai Qingyu pursed his lips, but the box held only the child, no tea.

He Renyuan, in a bad mood, warned him, “The contents of your box are unclear in ownership. As employer, I have the right to inspect.”

Bai Qingyu didn’t understand the first half but caught the latter and hurriedly said, “Don’t be angry, I’ll give it to you right away.”

He reached into the box and gently plucked two strands of the tea spirit cub’s hair.

The hair fell into his palm and turned into tea leaves. Bai Qingyu used his divine power to warm them. “Reach out.”

He Renyuan: “Hmm?”

Bai Qingyu explained solemnly, “The tea is loose leaf, so it got damp. There aren’t any packets.”

He Renyuan opened his hand, a few tea leaves landing in his palm, still carrying faint warmth. “Just this much? Enough to brew a pot?”

Bai Qingyu stepped back, holding the box, looking at He Renyuan as if he were a kidnapper. “Enough.”

Really, since the young master returned, he and the cub got caught in a little rain outside. The hair got damp and the tea fragrance strong, which caused the tea-savvy young master to stop them and demand tea.

He Renyuan sneered. Outside, those trying to curry favor with him by gathering the finest teas queued up long, yet here he was, quarreling with the nanny over a few strands of tea leaves.

If not for his irritability from prolonged insomnia and reluctance to go downstairs, he would have fired this stingy nanny immediately.

“Not enough. Give me a handful more.”

Bai Qingyu had no choice but to reach in again, plucking more hair from Bai Xiaocha’s sleeping head.

The little cub, dreaming, thought his father was just touching his head and turned comfortably.

The tea box shifted slightly. Bai Qingyu nearly lost his grip, scrambling to steady it.

He Renyuan, holding the next step, felt the heavy weight.

At least twenty pounds of tea, and he wasn’t even being given a gram? This was originally his tea? He took a deep breath, reminding himself not to argue with an idiot.

Just as he was about to grab some himself, Bai Qingyu’s quick hand blocked him and placed a handful of tea leaves in his palm.

Bai Qingyu: “Anything else? May I go to sleep now?”

“Did the butler arrange for you to stay on the third floor?” He Renyuan frowned. The third floor was for guests.

Bai Qingyu looked at him. Could it be that on the first day of the young master’s return, not only was there no food, but his room was also taken back?

He Renyuan caught his gaze, twisted his mouth, and stepped aside.

As Bai Qingyu passed, He Renyuan caught a stronger tea scent and lifted his hand to smell. So… damp tea was actually more fragrant?

He Renyuan brewed the tea leaves in a health kettle and poured a cup.

The tea was a tender green with a rich orchid aroma; it smelled fresh but tasted light, evidently a new growth tea under three years old. It should still be Wuyi Zhengyan tea, processed simply by sun-drying and fixing, not a finished product.

It was clearly too young.

Zhengyan tea was grown in high mountain ravines, rare and precious. He Renyuan had many stored and managed by the butler. He hadn’t been attentive these past two years.

He Renyuan bent down to find a celadon Ru kiln cup under the table, replacing his usual mug, then paused. It had been a long time since he’d gone to such lengths to enjoy tea.

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...

Bai Qingyu safely carried Bai Xiaocha to the third floor, losing five strands of hair in the process.

If Bai Qingyu assumed his original immortal form, his long hair would reach his waist and be a dark slate blue.

Bai Xiaocha’s hair was so black from eating too much human food, unlike a tea spirit at all. It might be due to another bloodline flowing within him, whose strands were jet black.

But did such a person really exist? Tea trees reproduce both asexually and sexually; asexual lines more easily preserve the previous generation’s excellent traits.

Could Bai Xiaocha be his asexual clone? But… Bai Qingyu pondered his son’s black hair. If asexual, it should be slate blue.

Oh! Maybe it was due to postnatal diet.

[Baby, try eating less human sesame and soy sauce in the future.]

*

The next day, He Renyuan sat at the dining table facing a standard meal. He had no appetite but kept thinking about the tea from last night.

He had actually slept well.

“Uncle Qi, which tea got damp last night?”

The butler gasped. Damp tea? The young master’s tea was carefully preserved, absolutely no chance of dampness. Even decades-old Pu’er cakes were perfectly fine.

He Renyuan received no response and frowned. “The box of tea you gave the new nanny—do we have more in the warehouse?”

In a flash, the butler realized it wasn’t tea at all. It was probably that Bai Qingyu carrying the child back last night was mistaken for carrying tea when the young master saw them.

The butler replied briefly, “No more.”

He Renyuan: “No more?”

The butler quickly made up an excuse, “That was some cheap tea I bought from a street vendor when I went home recently. It was the last pack, and I kept it to support the boss’s business, but I found the taste ordinary and didn’t store it well.”

The explanation was full of holes. He Renyuan didn’t bother correcting him but felt offended, “Ordinary taste?”

“Have you tried it?” The butler’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be that it tasted good? The butler’s tea story didn’t match Bai Qingyu’s. For an overburdened young master to care so much about this box of tea was unusual.

Just then, Bai Qingyu came downstairs. No one told him that the young master was home and the nanny should get up early. He had slept later than the employer and quietly descended the stairs until the butler called out.

“Qingyu, the tea I gave you last night…”

Bai Qingyu cut in, “Oh, thank you. It was delicious.”

He sounded a little boastful, “Mr. He probably thought it was good too.”

He Renyuan snorted and told the butler, “Go buy another box from that vendor.”

Butler: “...Where to buy?”

He Renyuan kindly reminded him, “Uncle Qi, your hometown is in the north. Street vendors selling old Zhu Shui Xian tea should be easy to find.”

The butler’s head spun. Bai Qingyu’s tea story must be a ruse to fool He Renyuan. Judging by the young master’s tone, it was authentic from the original place.

The butler suddenly remembered, “I spilled a box of old bush Shui Xian tea recently; they got mixed together.”

Bai Qingyu interrupted, “Uncle Qi—don’t keep arguing with the young master. It’s all traps, good or bad.”

He Renyuan: “Oh? I was wrong, it’s not old bush, it’s new bush.”

The butler fell silent. Fine, no more arguing in front of a lawyer. Who knew which words were true or false?