Chapter 171

Chapter 171 A Taste of Your FlavorLonghong Village was an extremely serene hamlet, with several dozen households scattered in different locations. The most secluded corner, nestled against the hill, was the home of Qin Xian'er - a small, quaint wooden house. The beams of the house were sturdy, and on the front of the roof, hung thin bamboo tubes of varying lengths. Small pieces of copper and iron clung to the bamboo, and when a breeze blew, they clanged against the tubes, creating a soft, melodic chime that was immensely pleasing to the ears.

Lin Wanrong was stunned, recognizing them as wind chimes. He marveled at the creativity and craftsmanship of the one who had made such delightful objects.

Next to the wooden house was a waving bamboo grove, the tall stalks leaning on one another and swaying gently in the wind, casting intriguing shadows. With the bamboo grove, the wind chimes, and the veil of misty rain, the house radiated an indescribable air of tranquility and elegance.

Initially, Lin Wanrong had assumed Xian'er came from a simple background. However, seeing this setup left him confused. The house, with its aesthetic simplicity and sophisticated ambiance, was definitely not the work of an ordinary individual.

Xian'er approached the wind chimes and gently stirred them, causing a series of crisp tones to ring out. She turned to Lin Wanrong and asked softly, "Young Master, these are called wind chimes. Do you find them pleasing?"

Lin Wanrong gave a thumbs-up and replied, "Not only is the chime pleasing, but even the name is incredibly beautiful. Did you make these wind chimes?"

Qin Xian'er nodded, "Yes, my mother taught me when I was a child. She said the wind has a voice. I didn't believe her, so she made me a wind chime to prove it. It turns out the wind really does have a voice."

As she spoke, tears began to fall from her eyes, a sight of sorrow Lin Wanrong had never seen before. He realized that this girl had kept a lot to herself. He felt a pang of sympathy as he knew her well. They often exchanged poems and songs, always laughing and enjoying each other's company, yet he had never seen her this sad. He knew little about her background despite all the time they had spent together. As guilt welled up within him, he took her hand firmly and said, "Xian'er, don't dwell on the unhappy past. Your mother would have wanted to see you smiling. Don't let her down."

Wiping away her tears, Qin Xian'er managed to smile, "You're absolutely right, Young Master. I've let myself get carried away, and I've embarrassed myself in front of you."

Seeing her delicate, pitiful figure, Lin Wanrong's heart stirred again. His fleeting sense of guilt had vanished. He gently caressed her hand and chuckled, "Xian'er, do we still need to talk about these things? Let's hurry into the bedroom... I mean, into the house."

Hearing this, Qin Xian'er's cheeks flushed. She wondered what this man spent his days thinking about. She wanted to have a serious conversation, but could never find the right moment.

Qin Xian'er opened the door to reveal a neatly arranged interior, simple yet elegant. A few bamboo tables and chairs were set up immaculately, clean and dust-free. In the center of the room hung a portrait of a woman, whose age was hard to discern. Her eyebrows were like distant mountains, her eyes like spring water. She exuded an air of serene elegance, bearing a striking resemblance to Qin Xian'er herself.

"Is this your mother?" Lin Wanrong asked.

Qin Xian'er gazed at the figure in the painting in a trance before nodding, "Yes, it is."

Since this was his mother-in-law, Lin Wanrong made a respectful bow to the painting. Turning to Xian'er, he chuckled, "Xian'er, you're just as beautiful as your mother." With one phrase, he complimented both women, a flattering remark that went unnoticed. Overjoyed, Xian'er's face flushed as she gently rebuked, "Young Master, don't tease me."

Qin Xian'er brought out a set of men's clothing for Lin Wanrong to change into. The scholar's gown was in stark contrast to his wild and arrogant demeanor. He looked out of place, like a bear in a suit, feeling incredibly awkward once he put it on.

"I guess I wasn't born to be a scholar," Lin Wanrong sighed, troubled.

Qin Xian'er looked at him, a hint of surprise in her eyes, before chuckling, "Young Master, you look even more charming in this gown than those scholars."

"I thought so too," Lin Wanrong grinned shamelessly.

"Young Master, I'm not just praising you," Qin Xian'er sighed, "I've met countless people in Miaoyu Pavilion. I've seen many sons of nobles, and while some had extraordinary temperaments, none possessed your charisma."

"What charisma, just say I'm thick-skinned," Lin Wanrong chuckled, "Xian'er, whose clothes are these? Are they made especially for me?"

Qin Xian'er gave him a glance and laughed, "These are my (maternal) grandfather's clothes. He once served as a Deputy Minister of the War Department. After retiring, he lived here. These are his clothes."

"So Xian'er comes from a noble family," Lin Wanrong said in surprise, explaining why Xian'er and her mother were both so educated. However, with such a grandfather, Xian'er shouldn't have ended up in the White Lotus cult. Something must have happened, perhaps related to her father whom she never mentioned?

In the backyard of the wooden house was a small pavilion. Feeling refreshed after changing his clothes, Lin Wanrong stood in the pavilion, gazing at the distant misty rain, blurred landscapes, feeling extremely relaxed.

‘My grandfather-in-law sure knew how to pick a place. The lush mountains and green water are indeed a great place to live. No wonder Xian'er and her mother both have such good temperament, like fairies. If I ever get tired of working, I'll buy a plot of land here, build some wooden houses, construct a few swimming pools, chat with Qingxuan, Qiaoqiao, Second Miss, and Xian'er, and look at the scenery. If I get tired, I can sleep under the sky and on the ground, and enjoy the pleasures of making babies. Wouldn't that be beautiful?’

Standing behind him was Qin Xian'er, fresh from grooming herself, dressed in an elegant white gown. Her long hair naturally fell, her cheeks flushed, her face as beautiful as a peach blossom.

The beauty of the mountain, the beauty of the water, and the beauty of the woman. With such a beautiful setting, it would be a shame not to do something even more beautiful. Lin Wanrong felt a tickle in his heart. Grinning, he teased, "Xian'er, why didn't you invite me when you were changing clothes?"

Qin Xian'er was taken aback, asking, "Why would I need to call for you?"

With a solemn face, Lin Wanrong replied, "To protect you, of course! Otherwise, some miscreants might peep at you, and I would be at a huge disadvantage."

A blush rose in Qin Xian'er's cheeks, her head dropping shyly. She thought to herself, ‘He dares to speak of miscreants, when he himself is the biggest one.’

Lin Wanrong noticed a delicate little teapot and four porcelain cups on the bamboo table in front of Qin Xian'er, with a pot of boiling water placed beside them. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ n0vᴇl(ꜰ)ire.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

Seeing him stare, Qin Xian'er couldn't help but smile. "If you visit Longhong Village without tasting its Longhong well water and Longjing tea, wouldn't that be a wasted trip?" she asked.

"Longhong well? Longjing?" Lin Wanrong sprang to his feet. "This is Longjing Village?"

Qin Xian'er nodded. "This is Longhong Village, named after a pond at the front of the village, which looks like a dragon's well. Outsiders call it Longjing Village."

"Oh my! So this is Longjing Village. I'm in a land of fortune and didn't even realize," Lin Wanrong exclaimed. Even though he was ignorant about the tea culture, he had certainly heard of West Lake Longjing.

So, this was the birthplace of West Lake Longjing. Lin Wanrong marveled, "Longjing Village is indeed serene and beautiful. Xian'er, you are so beautiful, you must be a fairy from these tea gardens."

Qin Xian'er chuckled, her slender fingers pouring hot water into the teapot, warming it before discarding the water. She then took freshly picked Longjing tea leaves, dropped them into the pot, and poured hot water over them from a height. A delicate fragrance began to permeate the yard.

Lin Wanrong had no clue about tea, but the smell of Longjing tea ignited his curiosity. ‘Mother's, the genuine West Lake Longjing tea! I've got to try it,’ he thought.

Qin Xian'er poured the tea from the teacup, filling it to about seventy percent full. The Longjing tea buds looked like little green bullets, appearing very even and balanced in the cup. It was indeed a high-quality tea.

Lin Wanrong didn't understand the subtleties of it all. Seeing Xian'er's fair hands, cherry lips, and petite nose, the dimples in her cheeks appearing with her smiles, he was utterly taken in. He grinned at her lecherously as she served the tea.

Qin Xian'er held the cup and presented it to Lin Wanrong, saying softly, "Please taste the tea, Young Master."

He knew that good tea required appreciation, but how to do it was a complete mystery to him. With a spirit of fearless ignorance, he grinned and said, "Xian'er, I won't lie to you. If you tell me to drink tea, I can, but to taste it, that's a bit difficult for me. Could you teach me?"

Qin Xian'er laughed, saying, "The method to taste tea is simple. Sip it slowly, swish it around in your mouth before swallowing. As you sip, shrink your oral cavity, and as the tea settles below your tongue, it'll produce saliva, and you will feel like you're standing near a spring. This is called 'whistling spring' in tea tasting."

"Whistling Spring? What a creative name. I like it." Lin Wanrong chuckled heartily.

Qin Xian'er held the cup in both hands, sipped a bit of the tea, demonstrating the process for Lin Wanrong.

Lin Wanrong admitted, "Xian'er, for an expert like you, this method of tasting tea is naturally easy, but for me, it's too difficult. I have an idea, however, that might greatly simplify the process."

"How would you simplify it?" Qin Xian'er asked, intrigued.

Lin Wanrong laughed wickedly, "It's quite simple. It's called, you taste, I sample."

"You taste, I sample?" Qin Xian'er frowned, puzzled. Before she could reply, she felt a tightness as he pulled her into his arms. A hot, large mouth covered her petite cherry lips.

Her body went limp, and a mischievous voice echoed in her ears, "This is called, you taste, I sample."

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