On the first seven days of my father's life, it snowed in Beijing for the first time since the beginning of winter.
Snowflakes fell on my mourning clothes, and also on the newly hung gold plaque of "Imperial Merchant" at the "Lu Yu Teahouse" opposite.
That plaque should have belonged to my Su family.
The head of the Lu family, my father's "good brother", was wearing brocade and mink fur, smiling at the door to welcome guests.
He didn't know that I, who he thought had died on the road to exile, was looking at him coldly from across the street in front of my tea stall with air leakage from all sides.
He didn't even know that the handed down tea book "Commentaries on the Tea Book" that he just snatched from my house, which he used to please the powerful, was actually missing the most important page.
That page is in my mind.
A man in Jin Yiwei stopped in front of my stall and frowned at the tea soup I brewed with yesterday's leftover tea.
"How dare you sell such inferior tea at the feet of the Emperor?"
I ignored him and just handed the tea soup over: "Sir, have a taste."
He took a sip dubiously, and the next second, his eyes changed suddenly.
Later I found out that he was Xie Yuanci, the commander in charge of Tiqisi who made all officials fearful.
He came here to investigate a "poisonous tea case" with wide implications.
And I, looking at his shocked face over a cup of leftover tea, had only one thought in my mind:
Lu family, your feast is about to end.
