Chapter 6

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No wonder Young Master He was so suspicious—how could Bai Qingyu have no tea in the morning but suddenly have some by nightfall?

Bai Qingyu was taken aback. As a Tea God, would he really resort to using secondhand tea leaves to deceive someone?

“No, this is fresh tea,” he said, cutting some from the back of Tea Baby’s head with scissors.

Bai Qingyu said disappointedly, “Can’t you even tell the difference between the first and second brew of tea?”

He Renyuan frowned. “Who said I can’t tell? But can tea soaked in rice for five hours taste the same?”

“I can tell,” Bai Qingyu replied.

Being outdone in tea tasting by a nanny who wasted tea leaves by bathing in them was humiliating.

He Renyuan picked up a spoon and scooped some of the tea-soaked rice.

Setting aside the mushy grains, the tea itself was good.

Eating greasy food late at night wasn’t suitable; tea-soaked rice was refreshing and appetizing enough to swallow.

He Renyuan sank into thought, letting the tea wash over his mind like a key unlocking stubborn memories. Thanks to his sharp mind and smooth schooling and work experience, he had never had to rack his brains this hard—yet in the past three years, he had experienced mental exhaustion.

Deep thinking was draining, and soon cold sweat appeared at He Renyuan’s black temples.

The white porcelain spoon hit the bowl’s bottom with a crisp sound, snapping He Renyuan back to reality. He realized he had finished the terrible tea-soaked rice.

Though no memories surfaced, the tea confirmed that he had indeed lost a long stretch of memory—one that had no clear place in his current timeline and seemed more like a hallucination.

Bai Qingyu praised like he did for Little Tea: “Great job.” Today, the boss ate as attentively as Little Tea, though maybe he heated the tea-soaked rice too much—why was he sweating?

He Renyuan: “…”

As Bai Qingyu bent to take the bowl, He Renyuan suddenly grasped his wrist. The wrist was slender, the fingers like jade, not like someone who did manual labor—he was indeed mistreated in that household.

He Renyuan looked into Bai Qingyu’s pale, indifferent eyes, calm and cold: “The tea in the bowl and the tea on your body aren’t from the same variety.”

Bai Qingyu almost retorted—how could they not be the same? Little Tea was his own offspring, the lineage unbroken. Was the boss really doubting their father-son relationship? They even had household registration to prove it.

He Renyuan stated plainly, “They’re from different harvest years.” Bai Qingyu’s tea even carried the aura of the legendary mother tree Da Hong Pao.

Bai Qingyu’s fingers curled involuntarily—clearly a sign of guilt. He had only let out a trace of Tea God’s aura, the fainter the closer to Little Tea, but He Renyuan’s keen perception was the sharpest he had encountered.

“It’s a bit different… because on the train here, I met an old man who mysteriously said he was going to a tea competition to see Tea Treasure… he saw I knew a lot about tea and gave me a small handful,” Bai Qingyu flattered his boss. “If you were on the train, Grandfather might have given you some too—experts recognize each other.”

He Renyuan snorted: “Others gave it to you, and you don’t drink it but bathe in it?”

Bai Qingyu: “I drank it twice before bathing in it. Most Da Hong Pao on the market is blended; I wanted to try the taste of two different rock teas mixed.”

Blending meant professional tea masters mix different rock teas in proportions to create a smoother flavor, so different brands of Da Hong Pao taste slightly different.

He Renyuan found Bai Qingyu’s wrist slippery and gripped harder, angered because he clearly sensed pure Da Hong Pao aura from him—perhaps even from the top-tier mother tree.

But the mother tree stopped being harvested seventeen years ago; the last batch was preserved in the National Museum.

Bai Qingyu was just a poor boy with no background—how could he be connected to the mother tree? Even he would laugh at such a claim.

The nanny was not only cunning but knowledgeable about tea culture. He Renyuan realized he’d lost his edge in verbal sparring after so long away from law.

He Renyuan released Bai Qingyu’s wrist and stood.

Bai Qingyu volunteered, “Tomorrow I’ll make breakfast, okay?”

Sister Liu’s breakfast for the young master was wasteful, but she dared not let He Renyuan order directly, so she prepared a little of everything. The boss and staff ate separately; by the time He Renyuan left leftovers, everyone else was full.

Bai Qingyu dared to ask, “Boss, what do you want for breakfast?”

He Renyuan glanced at the empty bowl, expecting no culinary flair from Bai Qingyu, and went upstairs. “No need.”

Bai Qingyu clung to the redwood stair railing and coaxed, “How about tea eggs? I still have a tiny bit of tea!”

Little Tea hadn’t cut his hair for three months—he could spare a little more.

He Renyuan stopped, fingers gripping the railing tightly, veins bulging: “How much tea do you still have?”

Bai Qingyu felt the boss looked like he wanted to strangle him and hid behind the first pillar, whispering, “Just a little.”

According to the Tea God cub’s hair growth rate, “a little” was every day.

He Renyuan couldn’t keep being played by Bai Qingyu’s tea leaf tricks.

“How about tea eggs with peanut soy milk?” Bai Qingyu asked.

He Renyuan ignored him.

Bai Qingyu raised his voice, “Also a plate of boiled greens and a pot of tea after the meal.”

He Renyuan closed his eyes, feeling like he was trapped in a scam shop. If not for his need to restore memories, why put up with this? “You better have it ready before seven.”

“Okay,” Bai Qingyu said.

Watching his employer go upstairs, Bai Qingyu stepped lightly up as well.

On the third floor, Little Tea sensed his father’s approach, set down his building blocks—which a kind lady on the train had sent him.

He didn’t have time to stand, propping his hands on the ground, crawling a few steps before rolling to his father’s feet. “Daddy.”

“Daddy, were you bitten by a bug here?” Little Tea sniffed the faint red circle on his father’s wrist.

“It’s okay, just a weak bug,” Bai Qingyu said happily, having accomplished his goals today, and lifted his son: “We’ll go make tea eggs later.”

Tea eggs needed to soak overnight to absorb flavor and should be prepared ahead. It would be better if the eggs came from free-range hens—he wondered when they’d raise chickens.

Bai Qingyu reminded, “When we go to the kitchen, speak softly.”

Little Tea nodded.

Still uneasy because his employer was too clever, Bai Qingyu added, “Baby, my boss is very smart. If he checks the third floor, you have to hide well.”

Little Tea’s chubby cheeks drooped with seriousness: “If the boss uncle catches me, I can’t work with Daddy anymore.”

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Bai Qingyu: “Right, because no other kids work with their dads. You’re here only because the butler grandpa secretly let you in.”

Little Tea: “Butler grandpa is so kind!”

Bai Qingyu suppressed his aura, pretending he’d washed off the tea scent during his bath so He Renyuan wouldn’t notice the mismatch in tea tree years.

He quietly descended with his son, locking the kitchen door and started boiling eggs.

“One for Daddy, one for Baby…” Little Tea saw three eggs in the bowl. “Oh, one for boss uncle.”

Actually, boss uncle should have two, but Bai Qingyu didn’t eat. He Renyuan was tall and needed more for breakfast.

After boiling, Bai Qingyu put the eggs in cold water, added spices, soy sauce, salt, sugar, and tea leaves into the pot.

He wasn’t new to making tea eggs; even Little Tea was familiar with the process.

“Baby, give me some tea leaves.” Bai Qingyu wanted to use his own, but since He Renyuan was used to a different kind, changing it might cause trouble tomorrow.

Little Tea obediently lowered his head—perfect cooperation according to hairdressers.

Bai Qingyu cut a few strands of the cub’s hair, quickly roasted them with spiritual power in his palm, then tossed them into the small pot.

Little Tea sat leaning against the cabinet, scooped an egg, cracked the shell on the cabinet door, rolled it until the shell fractured, then held it up for his dad.

Bai Qingyu took the egg and simmered it in the marinade for twenty minutes.

While waiting, to entertain Tea Baby, Bai Qingyu opened the fridge and took out yogurt and a cod fish sausage.

He microwaved the sausage, opened the yogurt lid, and handed it to Little Tea.

Little Tea dipped the sausage into the yogurt, soaking it in the sweet and sour flavor like fries with ketchup.

Bai Qingyu opened the fridge again, pondering what greens to boil for the boss in the morning.

Broccoli, perhaps—city folks seemed to like it.

Little Tea marveled at the fully stocked fridge, mouth agape, and missed his aim dipping the yogurt-soaked sausage into his face, leaving a white ring.

A big blunder!

Little Tea wiped his face with the back of his hand and focused back on eating yogurt.

After twenty minutes, Bai Qingyu turned off the heat, picked up the yogurt-finished cub, and returned upstairs.

*

The next day.

He Renyuan silently stared at the plain breakfast for three seconds.

Sister Liu hadn’t made the young master’s breakfast but prepared a rich meal for the staff as usual.

This was it—Bai Qingyu would definitely be fired this time. It was her fault for not warning him about the young master’s temper and letting Bai Qingyu improvise, turning the breakfast into tea eggs, soy milk, and boiled greens.

Just as Sister Liu thought He Renyuan’s anger was reaching a peak, he picked up a tea egg.

No wonder the young master looked good even peeling a tea egg—he peeled the shell smoothly in rings like peeling an apple.

Bai Qingyu supervised, thinking Tea Baby really knew how to roll eggs, making it easy for the boss to peel.

Watching He Renyuan finish his breakfast without waste, Bai Qingyu presented a 500ml wide-mouth cup full of tea, pale green leaves gracefully unfurling before settling at the bottom.

“Take this to work,” Bai Qingyu generously lent the cup he got for free as a new user, seeming to reward He Renyuan for finishing his meal obediently.

The cup was green, dog-shaped, with a neck strap and straw.

He Renyuan’s eyes flared with fury, glaring at Bai Qingyu: “You picked this bottle up from outside?”

Bai Qingyu: “I bought it for a penny as a new user, and I haven’t even used it.”

He Renyuan rubbed his temple. New user, one cent… at customer acquisition cost, even if bought outright, it wouldn’t exceed ten yuan.

Did he really have to carry this ugly thing to work? Even the most old-fashioned government office would know to bring a glass or thermos.

Bai Qingyu really liked the two straps on the cup—it could be carried or hung around the neck, perfect for work.

The Tea God was tolerant, so He Renyuan’s harsh words didn’t upset him; he only cared about results. “So, will you drink it?”

He Renyuan swore this was the last time he swallowed his pride, grabbed the wide-mouth cup, and the warm tea inside instantly comforted his dry palm.

He Renyuan pulled a face and strode away.

While Bai Qingyu and He Renyuan talked, no one else said a word. Once He Renyuan left, the mute sisters Li Ru and Li Yuan immediately gestured fervently, as if they had much to say but couldn’t express it fully through sign language.

The butler asked the sign language interpreter, “What are they saying?”

The interpreter studied them and said timidly, “Nothing much, just that there will be a big cleaning later.”

The butler said “Oh,” more concerned whether Tea Baby had eaten.

Bai Qingyu: “Not yet. I saved him some food. Since there will be cleaning downstairs, I’ll feed him upstairs.”

He brought tea eggs and soy milk upstairs, placed them before Little Tea, letting him eat independently. He sat cross-legged on the floor, searching for nearby kindergartens on his phone.

Little Tea, over two years old, could attend toddler class. The kindergarten should be nearby for convenience. Though He Renyuan was temperamental, he had instructed the butler to advance him three months’ salary—15,000 yuan—to afford kindergarten early.

Bai Qingyu opened the map, searched “kindergarten,” and found the closest one at 1.5 kilometers—Lemon International Kindergarten.

He called: “Hello, I have a two-year-old child. Are you still accepting students?”

The customer service replied in a standard tone: “Spring semester started a month ago. If your child enrolls, it will be as a transfer student, so he might have difficulty adapting to other children. Fees are charged per semester.”

Bai Qingyu: “That’s fine. Tea Baby adapts easily.”

The service rep said, “For children under three, the monthly fee is 26,000 yuan. If you need bus service, there’s an extra charge…”

Twenty-six thousand? Per month? Bai Qingyu was stunned—his three months’ salary couldn’t cover a single month’s tuition?

Was kindergarten really so expensive in the city?

“Sorry, I’ll think about it.”

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Little Tea echoed without looking up, “Daddy will think about it.”

“Okay, take your time. We recommend starting in autumn for smoother course progress.”

“Thank you,” Bai Qingyu hung up, shocked. How could it be so costly? Only the boss’s son could afford kindergarten, but not the Tea God’s son.

Yet Zhang Xiujuan and the mason’s children had enrolled successfully. There must be something wrong.

When in doubt, consult the browser.

Three minutes later, Bai Qingyu understood—kindergartens were varied: elite private, international bilingual, special private, and subsidized. Ordinary workers could send their children to subsidized kindergartens for only 2,000 yuan per month.

In the luxury district, the closest ones were elite or international kinds; the nearest subsidized kindergarten was 12 kilometers away.

Bai Qingyu decided to inspect in person soon.

“Qingyu, you have a delivery,” the butler called.

It must be the “rainproof stroller” he ordered. The boss wasn’t home, so Bai Qingyu openly took the child downstairs to sign.

“Such a big box?” The butler was surprised. Had he bought furniture? “You don’t have to pay yourself. If you lack furniture, charge it to the young master. I can reimburse you.”

Bai Qingyu was honest, thinking the stroller wasn’t a work necessity. “No need, it’s not much.”

He quickly unpacked a huge green trash bin. Both Little Tea and the butler stared.

“Such a big box.” Little Tea stood—it was only half the bin’s height.

The butler was puzzled—is the house short on trash bins?

Bai Qingyu said, “I bought it to use as a storage cabinet.”

The butler was speechless.

He watched the father and son happily pushing the trash bin into the elevator and sighed—still too poor.

Better reimburse him, the butler thought, just as he received a call from He Renyuan’s father, He Wangzhong.

“I heard Ah Yuan has stayed home two days straight?” Though questioning, He Wangzhong was confident—he had his sources.

“Yes,” the butler answered.

“He asked, ‘Will he stay home tonight too? I’ll send soup over tonight; be sure he drinks it.’”

The butler: “The young master hasn’t said he will come home tonight.”

“He said, ‘Just a shot in the dark.’”

He Wangzhong and his wife were busy on business trips for 350 days a year. After becoming successful, he whimsically decided to be a chef, using cooking to make up for lost time with his son.

The gesture was sincere but limited, mainly shown by expensive ingredients; his cooking was no match for Sister Liu.

He Renyuan’s company didn’t allow anything but documents delivered; food had to be brought home. He Renyuan’s homecomings were even more unpredictable than his parents’.

In short, when the head is crooked, the rest follows. The family had no sense of home—work was more like home.

*

He Renyuan stepped inside, feeling regret—wasn’t this self-torture?

Wait, when did he need to show his face to enter his own home?

He had arranged dinner, asked Sister Liu to stir-fry matsutake mushroom rice, so he wouldn’t be at the mercy of Bai Qingyu’s tea-soaked rice.

He dejectedly placed the washed plastic dog-shaped wide-mouth cup on the table.

He would use it once then throw it away, but feared the nanny wouldn’t let go.

In the kitchen, Sister Liu happily told Bai Qingyu, “You’re clever. This is the first time the young master has specified his meal. Now I only need to make one serving of fried rice.”

Bai Qingyu modestly said, “It means the boss listened and was reasonable.”

Sister Liu: “Anyway, you’re great. This is what young people call upward management.”

He Renyuan ate a comforting dinner when the butler brought pumpkin soup with white truffles.

“This is soup from the chairman.”

He Renyuan glanced at it—truffle and pumpkin mixed into a thick, sticky liquid that killed his appetite. “Take it away.”

The butler awkwardly took it back. The presentation was mediocre, and probably the taste as well, but it used Alba white truffle, known as the white diamond—wasting it seemed a pity.

The butler’s mind flashed to a scene of the cub eating.

He hurried upstairs with the precious white truffle pumpkin soup, careful not to spill.

“Tea Baby,” he called softly at the door, “come eat.”

Little Tea peeked his head out. “Butler grandpa?”

“It’s good stuff, come quickly.” The butler kindly placed the bowl on a small stool and put a spoon in Little Tea’s hand.

Little Tea sniffed and scooped a spoonful into his mouth.

Never had it before—it was delicious!

The butler smiled proudly.

After a while, he received a call back from the chairman.

“Did Ah Yuan eat? Was it good?” He Wangzhong asked calmly.

“Yes, yes,” the butler mumbled.

The big boss didn’t eat, but the little boss did.