Chapter 11: Brewing Tea Around the Hearth in Another World
The aunt had also changed her clothes, now wearing the same jingling silk qipao she arrived in.
At this moment, she looked even more radiant than before entering.
Like Li Qian, she was still the same person—but her “brightness level” had been turned up by a full degree.
The aunt had always dressed elegantly and strikingly to begin with. Now, her face, along with her gold necklace, jade pendant, and large gemstone jewelry, all seemed to sparkle.
Du Zhilan truly lived up to her reputation as a senior “black worker” trained at a well-known chain beauty salon—her technique was excellent. She had shaped the aunt’s eyebrows, giving them a slightly lifted arch that made her eyes look especially sharp.
With vivid lips, a refined updo, and a piercing gaze, she stood there radiating the aura of a capable career woman. Every gesture carried a strong, mature executive presence.
She stood at Xiang Yu’s front desk and casually pulled out a black-and-gold card from her handbag.
“Top up 50,000 yuan first for bathing and facial services. Put the performance credit under Xiao Du.”
She clicked her tongue, then looked around the lobby again with some uncertainty.
“Do you have a monthly minimum spending requirement? Do you need asset verification to get a hot spring membership?”
Xiang Yu’s eyes were almost dazzled by all the jewelry. Holding the card, she laughed helplessly.
“Thank you for your trust, but we’re a scenic spot and currently don’t offer stored-value accounts. We can convert it into specific services, like volcanic mud treatments or private hot spring rooms…”
“Alright. I’ll bring my friends next time.”
The rich lady clearly thought this was a high-end club. Hearing “scenic spot,” she even laughed a little, finding it amusing.
“A scenic spot? What scenery do you even have here—just that frog stone squatting on the hill by the Cangjiang River?”
Leaning against the counter, she toyed with her sunglasses and glanced around the decor. Although she had just made fun of them, she still nodded in approval.
“Honestly, your hot spring water quality and interior design could easily compete with high-end clubs. The places I’ve been to that require membership fees and minimum spending don’t even compare to yours.”
“It’s just that the place is a bit small, and there aren’t many staff. You should really develop the outdoor hot spring area and look into investment and financing. Your boss must not be short on money to build something like this in a remote mountain valley.”
Liu Bo chuckled awkwardly beside them and pointed at Xiang Yu.
“This is the boss.”
“Oh? A young hero indeed,” the wealthy aunt gave a thumbs-up. “When I was young, I was just as bold. So, do you have any plans next?”
“Yes. We’ll eventually dig out the outdoor area too—the snow mountain scenery is also beautiful there. You’re welcome to come again then.”
Gu Xiaoshuang, who had been squatting at the front desk desperately trying to get more volcanic mud, couldn’t join this high-end conversation and quietly retreated to the corner.
Xiao Tian walked around the pools carrying snacks, but didn’t find anyone. When she came back out, Xiang Yu gave her a signal.
Liu Bo went to help prepare the volcanic mud for the girls, while Xiao Tian carried a basket of snacks—glutinous rice cakes, candied dates, chestnuts, and a small stove—and placed them in front of the two girls.
“What is this?” they asked.
“It’s ‘brewing tea around the hearth.’ You must be hungry after soaking.”
Smiling, Xiang Yu watched as Xiao Tian set up a small stove, placing glossy black walnut charcoal underneath.
On top, she placed an iron rack, and in the center, a thick red clay teapot. A brick of tea was dropped inside, and then a wooden box was brought out.
The rack itself was beautifully crafted wood, engraved on both sides with a line of poetry:
“Green ants and newly brewed wine; a small red clay stove.”
Inside the box were neatly arranged snacks—chestnuts, peanuts, red dates, rice cakes, longans, oranges, dried tofu, and small cucumbers—forming a full “nine-grid” assortment.
There were also skewers of marshmallows. Xiao Tian handed them to the girls, signaling them to place them over the stove to roast and eat.
Yes, this was the familiar cross-world version of a social experience product—“ brewing tea around the hearth”—often criticized by media for being overpriced, low in actual substance, and packaging a “return to simplicity” aesthetic into a kind of new-Chinese consumption tax.
But the fact that a pot of tea with a few simple snacks could still sell for 199 yuan and become popular meant there was clearly a reason it worked.
A few friends gathering together—rather than just drinking tea, having a stove in the middle gives them something to do. They can grab whatever they want to eat, roast whatever they feel like roasting.
Even if it’s an awkward reunion where no one knows what to say, just having a couple of “raw sweet potatoes” in front of them gives them an excuse to talk while pretending they’re just roasting food.
And the low “cost performance” is only from the consumer’s perspective. For the owner—especially someone like Xiang Yu in a remote mountain valley—the contents of that nine-grid tray were mostly free anyway. Only the marshmallows were bought from a convenience store. The peanuts, red dates, longans, and dried tofu were all in surplus supply, even collected from nearby villagers by Director Ji. The villagers were so happy they even pointed out peanut and sweet potato fields and told her to harvest freely.
Because the ferry doesn’t run all the time, she had been worried that guests might get bored waiting. So she came up with something to help them pass the time.
Liu Bo had suggested installing arcade machines, projectors, or even a PS5 lounge. But arcade machines were expensive and limited in number, which would lead to people fighting over controllers. Projectors were barely useful, and besides, who still watches movies these days? People just watch commentary videos at double speed now.
Brewing tea around the hearth, on the other hand, was perfect.
Its cost was basically just dried snacks that city people didn’t care for. After coming out of the hot spring, people were exhausted and needed to replenish energy anyway, so they wouldn’t complain about free snacks.
Waiting for the ferry also stopped feeling boring. Marshmallows had to be held carefully or they’d melt; a sweet potato could take half an hour to roast. By the time the boat arrived, guests would still feel they hadn’t finished cooking it.
Just like letting customers make their own hot spring eggs—factory-made results might be more controlled and perfect, but involving guests in the process created a sense of attachment. It also made the experience more interesting.
All of that was from a business perspective.
From the guests’ side, however, the two girls were already completely captivated. Li Qian pulled out her phone and snapped photos furiously.
“Xiaoshuang, Xiaoshuang, move your skewer away! Put your phone down! You’re blocking my shot!”
“Wow, this is so pretty!”
Gu Xiaoshuang bounced up and pulled out her phone. “I’ll help you with lighting—go ahead and take your photos first. I’m going to use this for a good review. No, wait, I’m posting this on my Moments—I need to update my social feed!”
“Remember to shoot from different angles! I need to post too!”
Beside the charcoal stove was a wooden nine-grid tray, each compartment filled with brightly colored dried fruits and snacks. It was decorated with white gauze ribbons and dried flowers—elegant to the point of excess. Even the well-traveled wealthy aunt leaned in to take a few photos.
The charcoal slowly heated up.
Small tangerines began to steam with soft puffing sounds. The deep red of the dates grew richer. A chestnut on the side suddenly cracked open with a pop, revealing its golden, fluffy interior.
The entire air filled with the aroma of nuts and caramel, mixed with a rich citrus scent like orange essential oil.
The marshmallows cooked the fastest. The parts exposed directly to the flame formed a crisp, golden-brown shell. That caramel fragrance clearly came from it. On the surface it looked harmless, but inside it had already melted into a flowing core. Once broken open, hot, sweet syrup spilled out, burning the tongue and making people jump in surprise.
Li Qian swallowed with difficulty, forcing down a marshmallow that felt like molten lava, but honestly continued roasting the next skewer. Her eyes weren’t idle either.
She noticed the carved poem on the wooden rack and let out a soft “huh.”
“‘Green ants newly brewed wine, a small red clay stove…’ That poem is about warming wine, right? And drinking. Boss, you got the reference wrong.”
The aunt clapped her hands after peeling a chestnut.
“Students really are cultured.”
“Who said there’s no wine?”
Xiang Yu smiled faintly.
“If I dared engrave a poem on it, then of course there’s good wine. Want some?”
She paused for effect, then continued:
“Homemade peach wine from the villagers—sweet peach wine made with peaches and rock sugar. We also have fresh, big, sweet peaches, the flesh as sweet as rock sugar. You can drink it with a straw. If you go out to the ferry at the village entrance, they’re selling it there.”
“Hama Valley produces a lot of peaches. Everything is sold at origin prices, no forced consumption. The peanuts and red dates in the roasting tray were all from villagers’ homes—some of them were still freshly picked this morning. They also asked me to bring the peaches and wine over for everyone to try. If you think it’s good, you can take some home, or help give a like in the agricultural livestream…”
“Oh—that livestream.”
Gu Xiaoshuang remembered. She had encountered similar work during her student union duties.
“Our school’s partner poverty-alleviation county is also Hama Valley. One year, the faculty summer gift boxes were all Hama Valley peaches, and we even organized people to join the livestream just to boost viewer numbers.”
Eating the free peanuts and dates first, and then buying some agricultural products on the way out didn’t feel offensive at all.
And if it really was farmers’ produce, people were even more willing to buy it—it would feel fresher, cheaper, and more trustworthy than what they got from middlemen. Many people in China thought this way.
The next step was the usual livestream sales segment.
Director Ji and several village cadres still had some authority among the villagers, almost like a “Qin Shi Huang-style unification of standards,” setting unified prices and sales methods for oil mushrooms, peaches, and peach wine to ensure no one overcharged tourists.
Even though today’s business was still rather quiet, the villagers had still prepared their specialties and were waiting patiently in woven baskets at the ferry and the hot spring entrance, hoping someone might stop by.
Fortunately, among today’s guests, there was a kind-hearted wealthy lady.
When Xiao Pingping—a third-grade girl wearing an apron—walked over unsteadily carrying a large peach and a basket of oil mushrooms, the rich aunt immediately stood up.
She stepped forward dramatically, took the tray from the child’s hands, and fussed over her as she sat her down, even stuffing a marshmallow skewer into the little girl’s hand.
This livestream “host” had been personally selected by Director Ji. Pingping’s father had passed away early, and in the village only her mother and her remained, making their family the most financially vulnerable. They were therefore given priority access to sell products inside the hot spring venue.
Yesterday, Director Ji Kailang had personally gone to Pingping’s home, made the little girl take a bath, brought her a set of clean clothes, and even had her mother braid her hair into twin plaits.
The child wasn’t especially beautiful, and she was somewhat thin—but her eyes were huge and bright, like the iconic “Hope Project” poster girl. When someone looked into those eyes staring straight at them, it was almost impossible to refuse anything she asked.
No opening speech was needed—the wealthy aunt immediately pulled Pingping into her arms and started asking questions.
“How old are you?”
“What grade are you in?”
“Where are your parents?”
“Oh dear, such a young child already helping the family sell peaches…”
Li Qian and Gu Xiaoshuang had tried the samples first. The peach wine and fresh peaches were shockingly good—so good it was almost unbelievable—but unfortunately, their budget for this trip had already been maxed out, so they didn’t even dare try the oil mushrooms.
Fresh peaches could also be sold individually. Fully ripened ones were cut open and served with a straw, like milk tea, priced at eight yuan each.
The pricing wasn’t benchmarked against fruit—it was benchmarked against milk tea.
The peaches were placed inside transparent square milk-tea cups, topped with rounded plastic lids. A straw hole was inserted so people could drink directly.
Xiang Yu had even custom-made cute labels for them, giving them a milk-tea-style name: “One Big Juicy Peach.”
It was cheap, and both Gu Xiaoshuang and Li Qian each bought one. After the hot spring, they lay slumped on the sofa, sipping peach pulp and roasting sweet potatoes, looking completely like carefree immortals who had forgotten the world.
The front desk suddenly rang with a jingle, and an announcement came through the speakers: the ferry was about to arrive, and departing visitors should prepare to head to the dock.
Director Ji Kailang rushed over to check today’s “operating results,” only to find the entire lobby in an eerily relaxed state.
A wealthy aunt was holding Pingping, chatting intimately with her. Meanwhile, the two young women looked as if their souls had been drained, collapsed like noodles on the sofa.
Not a single person in the hall moved when the ferry announcement sounded.
This… what exactly was going on?
Were you all not planning to leave anymore?
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**TN
Brewing Tea Around the Hearth:
