worldtea

Session

Tea: Ancient Tree Black Tea (古树红茶)

Water: Volvic

Teaware: Mutton-fat Jade White Porcelain Tea Set (羊脂玉白瓷茶具)

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Dry Leaves

Appearance

Long, slender, tightly twisted black leaves with scattered golden buds.

Aroma

Jujube, dried dates, rich mountain honey, a gentle hint of cinnamon, and a lingering floral fragrance.

The dry aroma is warm, deep, and unexpectedly reminiscent of a well-aged Bai Mu Dan.

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First Infusion

Lid Aroma

The lid releases a sweet fragrance remarkably reminiscent of aged Bai Mu Dan. The honeyed aroma is immediate and comforting, with a soft floral sweetness that lingers long after the cup has been poured.

Wet Leaf Aroma

The wet leaves carry a similarly sweet profile. Compared to the dry leaves, the sweetness has become gentler and more rounded, while the rich honey character remains distinctly present.

Liquor

A clear, light amber liquor. The aroma evokes freshly wetted forest leaves intertwined with dried autumn foliage, creating a clean yet comforting impression.

Taste & Mouthfeel

The liquor is smooth, silky, and effortless to drink. Its sweetness is delicate, resembling the dew gathered on fresh morning blossoms rather than sugar or syrup.

Beyond the immediate flavours lies a moderately strong underlying essence—something deeper than taste alone. It gradually unfolds with each sip, hinting at greater complexity, yet remains elusive and difficult to define in this first infusion.

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Second Infusion

The amber hue deepens, becoming richer and more defined than the first infusion.

The delicate floral sweetness gradually recedes, making way for a gentle, pleasant bitterness that adds structure rather than harshness. The tea remains smooth and silky, with the bitterness blending naturally into the lingering finish.

As I sip, an image quietly forms in my mind: a table prepared beneath the broad canopy of an old tree on a late autumn afternoon.

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Third Infusion

The amber hue has now settled into a steady, confident tone.

The sweetness and gentle bitterness have fully intertwined, no longer appearing as separate sensations but as a single, harmonious whole. The liquor coats the palate with a smooth, velvety texture that lingers long after each sip.

Yet the tea’s true essence still chooses to hide from me.

I looked up from my cup and around my surroundings.

There was still no one.

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Fourth Infusion

The tea has now reached a point where its individual notes no longer stand apart.

Gentle citrus notes emerge, carrying hints of fresh lemon and dried yuzu peel. Beneath it all lies a quiet, sweet bitterness that serves as the tea’s underlying essence rather than its dominant flavour.

From the right, the host finally reveals himself.

He walks quietly into view and stands before me.

An elderly man with a youthful face, a long grey beard, and a traditional Chinese hat.

Without a word, he simply introduces himself.

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Fifth Infusion

The colour remains steady, its amber hue fully settled.

The tea has found its balance. The sweetness, gentle bitterness, citrus, and silky texture have become familiar companions.

Now I understand who he is.

From afar, he had already seen me.

He prepared the table and quietly placed the drink before me. He allowed me to settle into the silence, to observe my surroundings, and to contemplate without interruption before choosing to reveal himself.

Now he is no longer a stranger.

The tea has become familiar, and with that familiarity, its character grows more robust.

—

Sixth Infusion

The amber liquor remains composed, showing no sign of fading.

The sweetness, gentle bitterness, and citrus notes remain in harmony.

Now his presence becomes stronger.

I stood up, cup in hand, to appreciate my surroundings once more.

After becoming acquainted with him and knowing his presence, I understood that he is not one to mask himself.

He appears at the right time, when he knows that you understand who he is.

He will not change.

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Seventh Infusion

I take a stroll, cup in hand, to explore beyond the tree.

The old man stays where he is. His presence is still strong.

As I walk further, I am not worried, for he is always there, and I know where to find him.

The liquor warms my belly as I continue my stroll, thinking about the table, the tree, and the old man.

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Eighth Infusion

I venture farther away.

Looking back, I see his unchanging stature. He watches me from afar.

The taste has softened only slightly, even though I have wandered so far.

I take another sip from the cup.

Maybe the taste has faded.

Maybe it has not.

Maybe it would taste the same even if I were drinking pure water.

I don’t know anymore.

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Ninth Infusion

Now I am far away, yet he is still there, always looking in my direction.

The drink changes once more.

It now tastes like dew infused with fresh grass, leaves, hay, small flowers, wood, and clay.

The unmistakable taste that once defined the tea has now become a reminiscence.

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Tenth Infusion

The colour of the liquor fades ever so slightly.

There is once again a hint of aged white tea.

I look back, and the old man is no longer there.

The tea tastes different now.

It is as though he is permitting me to go on a new adventure.

I expected the cup to disappear.

But it is still in my hand.

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Eleventh Infusion

My cup is filled once more as I continue on my journey.

The drink has turned sweet.

A gentle sweetness emerges alongside the freshness of yuzu peel.

The ending reminds me once again of aged white tea.

With aged white tea, the liquor eventually becomes almost like water, while the sweetness continues to linger.

This tea is different.

It reminds me of the strong middle infusions, where dried yuzu peel, gentle bitterness, and sweetness existed together.

Yet now, those same notes have transformed into an entirely different drink.

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Twelfth Infusion

I was not ready to let go, so I circled back toward the old man’s place.

The colour of the liquor had faded again, but only ever so slightly.

I found him easily.

He offered me a seat and another drink from the same cup.

His presence stood out once more, and the tea tasted very much like before.

Sometimes, old friends bring back familiar tastes.

Perhaps, on our journey, it is the same cup that brings us a new perspective.

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Thirteenth Infusion

I asked for one last cup.

The last one for the road.

The colour and the warmth remained.

The flavours became less tangible, yet the mouthfeel remained.

Time spent with old friends gives us strength for the road ahead.

Finally, I stood up and left.

I did not wave goodbye, because I knew I would return.

Yet, in my heart, I still wanted more of that drink.

—

Wet Leaves (叶底)

Large, supple leaves with a rich chestnut-brown colour.

Most leaves remained intact after thirteen infusions, displaying even oxidation and a healthy, leathery texture.

Despite the long session, the leaves retained their structure and elasticity, reflecting careful processing and a tea capable of enduring many brews.