Yu Xiang first noticed the wooden box. It was made from aged wood using traditional craftsmanship, precisely the kind of thing that would appeal to scholars and literary enthusiasts.
“I was just about to bring this up with you. This afternoon, you’ll come with me to my teacher’s house and let him taste the tea you brew. How does that sound?”
Qiuyun smiled. “I remember. Madam Jiang mentioned it before.”
The young woman’s poised and natural demeanor pleased Yu Xiang. “You won’t go for nothing. I’ll hire you at the same rate we pay our family tea master.”
Qiuyun’s smile broadened. “Thank you, Madam Jiang, for your appreciation.”
After settling the afternoon plans, Yu Xiang bent down to open the wooden box before her.
It was made of genuine rosewood with white jade clasps—the material and craftsmanship were impeccable. If the gift inside failed to match the box’s quality, it would risk putting the cart before the horse. Conversely, if a guest presented such a solid, intricately carved box, it meant they were supremely confident their gift would win the host’s favor.
“Where did you find this wooden box?” Yu Xiang couldn’t help asking.
Such aged materials and traditional techniques carried an added value far beyond their original cost.
“I went to the antique market on North Street Alley during the break. I saw that this box was the right size, so I bought it to use as a gift box.”
Thinking of that bustling market, Yu Xiang wished she weren’t so busy lately—she’d love to go treasure-hunting again.
“You’ve put so much thought into this,” Yu Xiang said, growing fonder of the young woman.
She opened the white jade clasp. The top tray held a copy of The Classic of Tea. It hadn’t been deliberately aged, but it radiated a subtle, ancient charm from within and without.
Flipping through the book, Yu Xiang was first drawn to the calligraphy—the characters were lively and graceful, yet steady and restrained, perfectly matching the tone of the tea classic.
On closer inspection, the content was insightful and original in its perspective.
As a university literature professor, Yu Xiang had an eye for the humanities, art, calligraphy, and painting. This edition of The Classic of Tea was outstanding both in content and presentation. Her teacher would absolutely love it!
She lifted the divider tray to reveal a folding fan placed sideways underneath.
Since it was secured at a fixed angle, Yu Xiang didn’t take it out but could see from the side that its colors were clear and pleasant, the lines smooth and flowing.
“Excellent.” Yu Xiang nodded with satisfaction. “Go change your clothes. We can leave now.”
Five minutes later, Qiuyun came out in a change of clothes.
Ever since she’d sold her fake luxury items secondhand, her wardrobe had become very simple—almost all T-shirts and jeans.
Yu Xiang gave her a once-over and coughed softly. “You know, I think you have a build similar to mine when I was young. I have some clothes I’ve never worn. How about you pick an outfit to wear to the banquet?”
Qiuyun didn’t mind free clothes. “Sure, thank you, Madam Jiang.”
Even though the clothes were over a decade old, classic styles never really changed.
Qiuyun chose a fitted gray top—short-sleeved, cinched at the waist, with small glittering rhinestones in white, blue, pink, and green at the collar. They scattered like falling stars, growing sparser toward the bottom.
She paired it with a skirt in the same color scheme. Though it was a gauze skirt, it didn’t look cheap. The waistline was cut to match the pleats of the top, accentuating her slender waist and creating a gentle, flowing silhouette. She looked elegant and beautiful.
“Truly lovely,” Yu Xiang said in surprise.
Before, when Xiaoqiu wore the household uniform, you could tell from her features that she was a beauty. But Yu Xiang hadn’t expected that just by changing clothes—without even fixing her hair or makeup—she would stand out so strikingly.
The clothes themselves were the most basic of basics, yet on her, they seemed to carry a faint, ethereal beauty, like mist or orchids.
Yu Xiang’s eyes wandered and then came back to focus.
It was her poise.
Tall and long-limbed, with a relaxed posture, gentle movements, and a calm gaze—such a demeanor was rare even among the young women of elite families.
“My teacher’s wife will definitely adore you,” Yu Xiang said, taking her hand with delight.
Qiuyun’s eyes curved into crescents. “I’m really looking forward to meeting your teacher and his wife.”
They set off from the estate and arrived twenty minutes later at a villa district.
The gates and buildings here were older, but the environment was tidy and clean, with greenery arranged tastefully.
Since the district was thirty or forty years old, it didn’t separate pedestrians from vehicles. The driver dropped Madam Jiang at the entrance to her teacher’s villa and quickly drove off to park outside the neighborhood.
“Let’s go.” Yu Xiang was wearing a new dark green cheongsam-style dress, with her hair casually pinned up. She wore no jewelry at all—very understated.
“Yes.”
Sister Zhou and Qiuyun followed Madam Jiang into Professor Feng’s home.
“Junior Sister?” In the flower-filled courtyard, a middle-aged man in a navy blue suit strode over. “Junior Sister, it’s been a long time.”
Qiuyun noticed that Madam Jiang was clearly taken aback. She frowned, thinking hard, but still couldn’t place him.
The man gave a helpless smile. “I’ve changed so much you don’t recognize me? I’m Dai Yudong. Remember? You were in your second year of grad school when I went abroad to study.”
“Senior Brother Dai!” Yu Xiang finally remembered him. “Long time no see. Have you recently returned to the country?”
Dai Yudong’s smile was tinged with bitterness. “Yes, I’m back. Came to visit Teacher.”
Yu Xiang offered comfort. “Our country has developed so well in recent decades. You’ll surely achieve great things now that you’re back!”
Dai Yudong laughed heartily. “That’s right. I came to ask Teacher for advice, hoping he might give his dull-witted student a leg up.”
As they spoke, a fellow student who recognized Yu Xiang and knew her status quickly approached. “Mrs. Yu is here! Please, come inside!”
Yu Xiang frowned, keeping her tone polite but firm. “Here at Teacher’s, please call me Yu Xiang or Professor Yu.”
The man flashed a sycophantic smile. “Of course, of course. Force of habit. Please, Professor Yu, this way.”
Qiuyun and Sister Zhou followed Madam Jiang inside, leaving Dai Yudong puzzled.
As he recalled, this junior sister came from a modest family background. He hadn’t heard of any great achievements since.
Mrs. Yu…
Who had she married?
They passed through the garden into the large living room.
As soon as she entered, Qiuyun loved the decor.
The room’s hard finishes were mostly wood. Lush green plants were placed in corners and alcoves. Especially striking was a curio shelf in one corner, filled with antiques, with calligraphy scrolls hanging beside it, giving the whole room an old-world charm—reminiscent of the courtyard of the private tutor at her former Duke’s estate.
“Xiao Xiang is here! Come, sit by me.” Zhao Jinshu, Teacher’s wife, waved from a distance.
Teacher preferred quiet, while his wife enjoyed lively gatherings. Since this anniversary and birthday fell on the same date, only close family friends had been invited.
Yu Xiang took the rosewood box from Sister Zhou and presented it with a smile. “Congratulations on your golden wedding anniversary, Teacher and Teacher’s wife. And happy birthday, Teacher.”
“Oh my, this box must be an antique,” Zhao Jinshu exclaimed.
“Yes, it looks to be over a hundred years old,” someone nearby remarked, making room for Mrs. Yu.
When the box was opened, the first thing revealed was The Classic of Tea for Professor Feng.
Zhao Jinshu smiled. “Your teacher will love this. Xiao An, Xiao An? Go and get your grandfather to come here.”
Xiao An was in the corner playing games. He looked up. “Grandfather is appreciating calligraphy with Grandpa Yang. They’re upstairs on the second floor.”
Yu Xiang was surprised. “Uncle Yang has calligraphy worthy of Teacher’s appreciation?
