Hainan Dao

Book III Chapter 02

HAINAN DAO BOOK III

CHAPTER 02

Early the next day, the sun vaulted into the sky to find me marching back to the high school with a bulging shopping bag in my hand. As I strode down the hallway, humming a tune, the tasty tidbits that I had picked up earlier in the morning jingled around inside the sack like loose change.

I stepped into the library.

“Well!” Dashu rubbed his hands together. “It would seem that you are able to remember instructions.”

I nodded. I glanced around. “Where’s Xiaoshu?”

Dashu waved his hand through the air in a round about fashion. His eyes had remained glued to what I had brought with me. “He’s…busy.”

“Should we wait for him?”

The old man was nearly snatching the bag out of my hands at this point. “Come, come!”

I smiled and set the package down on the table that he had hauled over from one corner of the room. I removed the eats from the sack one bundle at a time, and then last of all, I fished out from its depths a thermos full of scorching hot tea. Removing the cap from it, I was about to pour some of its contents into a cup, when the old man touched me on the arm, stopping me.

Dashu frowned at my bottle of piping hospitality. He sniffed at it a few times. He crinkled up his nose. “What is that?”

“Tea. Of course.”

“What kind?”

I frowned and stared at the contents myself. “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Tea.”

He shook his head, as he wafted away the unwanted aroma with a wave of his hand. “Amateurs.” He reached behind his chair and brought out a teapot and a set of cups, which he placed down on the table between us with care and not a little bit of tenderness. “I am tempted to call that concoction you have brought with you over there, monkey piss, except…”

“Monkey piss?” My eyes widened.

“…except that would be rude and insulting to monkeys in general.”

I shook my head. I put down my thermos and replaced the cap.

“I hope you have come today ready to learn something.” He made eyes at me as he cracked all the knuckles on each of his fingers in turn.

“Now then.” He frowned. “We won’t even attempt the lesson on tealeaves today. That’s far too advanced for you…”

My eyebrows flicked up.

“Yes. For today, we’ll start with something simpler, the Tao of teapots…” Opening up one of the dim sum boxes, he began to eat at the same time as he began to lecture.

According to Dashu, the formal expert on life, the universe and everything, there was only one type of material on this planet, one type of earth-clay mixture that was worthy enough to be used for the fine purpose of making and holding tea, that sweet nectar of the gods and quasi-deities. Its name was Zhisha, and it could only be found in the province of Jiangsu within the borders of the nation men called the Middle Kingdom.

The life of a proper Zhisha teapot was complicated, and fraught with hidden obstacles that would threaten to hinder the instrument from ever reaching its full potential. One must always be diligent, Dashu told me.

The first thing to do when one brought a new teapot home, was to boil some water and immerse the utensil in it for about ten minutes. This was done to awaken the Chi of the pot, so it might be ready for the bonding with the tea that would soon follow thereafter. For the bonding itself, old, used tealeaves were always best. Needless to say, any one teapot could only be bonded to one type of tea and one type only.