Chapter Forty-Four: Young Master, Is This a Poem?

Upon hearing Li Yi’s words, Fang Xuanling pondered for a moment, his eyes suddenly gleaming as his body shook with excitement. “Ha ha ha! My dear nephew, you are truly a blessing to the Great Tang! I must go to the palace at once, see His Majesty, and discuss this matter with him!” As he spoke, Fang Xuanling turned to leave, but after two steps, he abruptly stopped and turned back. “Nephew, don’t forget to report to the Eastern Palace tomorrow; being late for your first attendance would not be good!”

Li Yi rolled his eyes. Even at a moment like this, Fang Xuanling remembered such a detail; Li Yi had hoped to use it as an excuse not to go tomorrow! “Uncle Fang, rest assured—I will be there.”

Fang Xuanling nodded. “Good, that’s settled! Ha ha! Your Majesty, what joy awaits!”

“Seriously? We’re still in the Li residence, how could the emperor be here? This old man, sigh…”

Li Yi muttered a few complaints to himself, lowered his head to look at his trousers, and instantly felt a wave of embarrassment.

“Bingyu, Bingyu!” he called.

Bingyu appeared instantly, silent and swift, always ready at a moment’s notice—who knows how she mastered such skills. “Young master, you called?”

“Yes! Quickly, bring me a new pair of trousers!”

Bingyu glanced down, her face flushing red as she covered her mouth. “Young… young master… you… you…”

Li Yi immediately knocked her lightly on the head. “Silly girl, what are you imagining? It’s tea stains. Didn’t you see the teacup on the floor?”

Bingyu rubbed her head, gazing at Li Yi with grievance. “Young master! That hurts!”

Li Yi couldn’t help but laugh. “You little rascal—I barely tapped you! Come, let me rub it for you.” He patted Bingyu’s head a few times and suddenly realized what he was doing.

“Hey! How did I end up rubbing your head? Go, quickly prepare the trousers for me, and be discreet about it! We don’t want any misunderstanding.”

“Oh! But young master, being so secretive might arouse even more suspicion…”

“Oh, my goodness! If you hurry back and forth, there’ll be no room for misunderstanding. Off you go!”

Bingyu blushed fiercely, then dashed out.

“This girl!” Li Yi cursed with a laugh, glanced at his trousers, and muttered, “Hmm? Why is it still sticky? What did they put in this tea? Since I’ve got nothing this afternoon, I might as well roast the tea myself. Sigh—worry is my lot in life!”

Not long after, Bingyu brought Li Yi new trousers. He found a secluded corner to change, and once dressed in fresh clothes, he felt revived.

Standing with hands on hips, gazing at the sky, then looking down at a tiny green shoot poking out beside the wall, poetic inspiration struck him: “Ah! The blue sky fades away, yellow earth reveals decay and growth. By the wall a hint of green—spring is born here!”

“Young master, what are you doing?”

Li Yi blew his bangs aside and grinned lewdly. “Didn’t you see me composing poetry? How’s my writing?”

“You call that a poem, young master?”

Li Yi’s face froze. “Bingyu, I’ll give you another chance!”

Bingyu thought for a moment, then put on an exaggerated expression. “Wow! Young master, what a wonderful poem—so wonderful, in fact, that except for being utterly useless, it has not a single flaw!”

Li Yi was instantly annoyed. “You wretched girl, I—” He paused, remembering his status as a young master, a grown man—how could he argue with a maid? No need to get angry; her lack of appreciation was simply ignorance. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Bingyu!”

“You’re acting strange, young master!”

Li Yi’s lips twitched like a motor. “Go fetch the encyclopedia, bring paper and pen, and wait for me in the kitchen. Quickly, now!”

Bingyu gave him a curious look, then turned and left.

Watching Bingyu go, Li Yi glanced again at the green sprout by the wall, his irritation rising. He pointed at a young servant. “You—tear down that wall!… Hey, wait, stop—crack! You really went for it? Can’t you tell I was joking? What kind of people are these?”

Rolling his eyes at the confused servant, Li Yi left in frustration.

Li Yi then sought out Uncle Qian, the steward. Uncle Qian was said to be a former subordinate of Li Jing, who, upon retirement, became Li Jing’s trusted house steward. Thus, all the Li family held him in high regard.

Seeing Li Yi approach, Uncle Qian hurried out to greet him. “Oh, young master, what brings you here personally? You could have ordered a servant to fetch me, and I’d have come at once!”

“Oh, it’s not far; I’m young, a little walk does me no harm.”

Uncle Qian sighed admiringly. “Young master, you truly have a kind and generous heart.”

Li Yi blushed. “Uncle Qian, you flatter me.”

“Ha ha! Surely there’s something you need from me?”

“Oh, yes. I wanted to ask, how much tea do we still have in the house?”

“Are you out of tea, young master? I’ll have someone send some over immediately. These servants—how careless can they be!” Uncle Qian’s eyes flashed with anger. Li Yi was, in a way, the family’s treasure, favored by all. To have him personally come asking for tea, no wonder Uncle Qian was upset.

“Wait, Uncle Qian, you misunderstood. I still have some tea, but I want to use it for an experiment and don’t have enough. I mean the unprocessed leaves.”

Uncle Qian’s expression eased. “Ah, I see. The master loves tea, so last year I gathered quite a bit. There should be about sixty pounds left.”

“So much? Excellent! Uncle Qian, could you have forty pounds sent to my courtyard?”

“Of course, no problem. That leaves twenty pounds for the master, which is more than enough. I’ll have someone deliver it right away!”

“Thank you, Uncle Qian!”

“Young master, you’re too polite—it’s my duty!”

After bidding Uncle Qian farewell, Li Yi returned to his own courtyard. Without pausing, he headed straight for the kitchen, where he found Bingyu waiting, and Aunt Han had returned from the Jiang residence as well.

“Young master!” Both greeted him promptly.

Li Yi waved his hand. “Aunt Han, please heat up the pots for me—three, all at once! Bingyu, keep your paper and pen ready for notes!”

The two women quickly agreed and began their tasks.

Li Yi then set about preparing the tea-roasting broom. He knew little about tea roasting, only vague impressions: the process involved raw pot, second green pot, and cooked pot—three pots in sequence. The roasting stove was made of ordinary iron pans, set at a twenty-five to thirty degree angle, three linked together. The broom for roasting was made from bamboo, about a meter long, the branches at one end roughly ten centimeters thick. Racking his brain, this was all Li Yi could recall. As for the temperature of the pots, the degree of roasting, and the strength needed, he only had a hazy sense and would have to rely on trial and error. Whether he would succeed or not—well, that was up to fate.