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A pot of black tea, two plates of fruit, the old people sit around the fire in the teahouse, and one sitting is a day.
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Text | Mo Shang
When I was a child, I lived with my grandparents in a small town in southwest Luxi for a while. Those years are like an old painting with delicate brushstrokes that is slightly yellowed but full of warm tones, and the most haunting thing is an old teahouse in the town.
The old teahouse sits in the heart of the town, with a quaint brick structure and walls covered with verdant vines. The town has a long history and was once an important node of business and trade exchanges in southwest Shandong, with convenient transportation, a large gathering of goods, and always bustling around the teahouse. The lively market is full of handicrafts with local characteristics, such as exquisite Lu brocade fabrics and hand-carved peach wood ornaments. However, the old teahouse is like a quiet island, enjoying a peace and quiet in the hustle and bustle of the surrounding area, as if the prosperity of the outside world has nothing to do with it.
Stepping into the teahouse, you will be greeted by a fresh and elegant aroma of tea, at first, it shyly surrounds your body, and then gradually thickens, like a fine wine that has been precipitated over the years, exuding a mellow fragrance.
Inside the teahouse, a few old incandescent lamps cast a warm glow, and yellowed old photos hang on the walls, telling the history of the town. The wooden tables and chairs that have passed through the years are still sturdy and reliable, and the table tops are furnished with clean and neat porcelain tea sets. On the shelves against the wall, there are a variety of tea cans on one side and books for reading on the other.
The owner of the teahouse is an old man who always likes to wear a gray robe and hold a delicate purple clay pot in his hand, like a figure who has stepped out of a picture scroll of the past. His hair was gray, but his eyes were calm. When he was young, he also had dreams, crossed the Northeast, went south to Shenzhen, and experienced the ups and downs of life. In the end, perhaps for the sake of peace in his heart, he returned to this quiet town and opened this teahouse.
Once, a young painter came to the town to capture inspiration and stopped to rest in an old teahouse. The painter was attracted by the local customs, took out his sketchpad on the spot, and created a work with the theme of the town. The teahouse owner didn't bother him, but instead offered him a cup of hot tea. After the painting was completed, the painter gave the painting to the boss, and the town in the painting was quiet and beautiful, becoming a unique decoration of the old teahouse.
Another time, a group of tourists from afar stopped at the old teahouse after tasting the local special oil tea, and praised the simplicity of the town. The boss enthusiastically introduced to them the customs and habits of southwest Lu and the story of Li Bai and Du Fu's visit here. At the time of parting, the tourists thanked each other one after another, and later a tourist published an article about the teahouse in the local evening newspaper, which became a good story for a while.
When I was a child, I used to go to the teahouse after school to look for my grandfather. I would find a quiet corner to sit down, pick up a book, or do my homework in the teahouse. The teahouse was like my secret base. Sometimes, the boss would hand me a light cup of tea and watch me read seriously, with a smile on his face and encouragement.
In southwest Luxi, the summer rains often come quickly and violently, just like the bold character of the locals. Whenever the rainstorm hits, people will take refuge in the teahouse to avoid the rain, and everyone will sit together, talking about their lives, buying and selling, and suddenly full of laughter. When the snow falls heavily in winter, a warm charcoal fire is lit in the teahouse, and the firelight is reflected on everyone's faces, and everyone sipps hot tea and admires the snowflakes flying outside the window. A pot of black tea, two plates of fruit, the old people sit around the fire in the teahouse, and one sitting is a day.
On holidays, the teahouse will hold local opera performances such as Henan Opera and Lu Opera. Despite the poor conditions, the actors' dedication and dedication, high-pitched or tactful singing, are still unforgettable, and the old people of the town always come early to watch. Sometimes, the teahouse will also invite storytellers to perform Shandong storytelling. As soon as the storyteller wakes up the wood, traditional stories with Shandong style such as "Water Margin" and "Romance of the Sui and Tang Dynasties" gush out like spring water, which not only adults love to listen to, but also we children often forget to eat time.
Later, I left the town. Years later, when I returned there, I found that the town had been transformed into a tourist area, the old teahouse had been turned into a café, and the kind owner was gone. I stood in front of the café for a while, but finally I didn't go inside.
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Edited by Gan Qiongfang
Typesetting|Gan Qiongfang
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