"Your tone is just like my dad's. They are indeed very worried about me, but they also believe that I can handle any unexpected situation." Mo Lan stroked the pointer in her hand, sighing silently in her heart. She had no choice; her situation was also very difficult.
In the past two years, the number of her adopted children has increased year by year. The young ones join the Tiger Guard Camp, the old, weak, women and children do what they can, and those who can't do anything are taken care of, which is too much of an expense.
What could she do? The hole she'd dug herself was too big; she had to shoulder it. Not only did she have to bear it, but she also had to mobilize the old village chiefs, their sons and daughters…
At first, the whole village was managed like a production team. Later, with layers of management, it became more like a conglomerate, and she was the chairman who controlled it from behind the scenes.
Qin Su looked at Mo Lan's expression, which was neither happy nor sad, and wondered, "What are you thinking about?"
"It's nothing, we've had enough shopping, let's go." Mo Lan smiled, strolled around for a bit, and walked back to the tea shelf. "How do you order these old raw tea cakes and old tea bricks?"
"How many do you want, young lady?"
As they were talking, an elderly man dressed in ethnic clothing came out from behind the shelves, holding a pipe in his hand. He looked quite old.
"Quantity is not a problem as long as the price is right."
Mo Lan looked at the old man opposite her. These coarse tea leaves were not very popular at the moment, mainly because the raw materials were too coarse and old, and the appearance was not good. Most people would not like them. But this was not a problem for the people from beyond the Great Wall. They liked to make milk tea, and these were just right for them.
The old man's eyes lit up at Mo Lan's suggestion. "Since you're so sincere, young lady, let's talk. This kind of old brick tea is 500 coins a brick, and old raw tea cakes are 200 coins each..."
The old man, holding a pipe, quoted prices while describing the weight, age, and taste of the teas. Finally, he walked to a tall pillar.
"This is our store's prized possession, a thousand-tael tea pillar. It's a bit more expensive, and it can be sawed open when you sell it. It's been in our collection for almost twenty years, and as for the price, it's the most expensive one."
Mo Lan's eyes lit up when she looked at the thousand-tael tea pillar in front of her. A twenty-year-old tea pillar was indeed very rare.
"Honorable guests, I have just brewed some tea. Please come in and have a taste if you don't mind," the old man said, carrying his pipe as he walked behind the shelves.
Mo Lan glanced at Qin Su, "Let's go, let's try the tea brewed by the tea farmers themselves, and see how it differs from the tea we brew."
"Respect is not as good as obedience."
Qin Su chuckled and nodded. He had never paid attention to this kind of coarse tea before. Since meeting Mo Lan, the things he had come into contact with were completely different from before. At the same time, they were new and also subverted many things from before.
Behind the shelf was a brazier with a kettle hanging from it, its original color obscured by smoke. Around the brazier, several bamboo tubes were roasting.
The old man took down the kettle and poured water directly into the bamboo tube. The bamboo tube, which was originally steaming, began to gurgle and bubble, with some foam rising to the surface.
When he saw that the tea was almost ready, the old man used tongs to pour the tea from the bamboo tube into a ceramic cup next to him. "Guests, please have a taste. We locals like to have a sip of this after meals. It warms you up, quenches your thirst, and makes you feel refreshed."
"Thank you, sir." Mo Lan picked up the rough earthenware cup. The orange-red tea soup had a refreshing fragrance. She took a sip and found the aftertaste to be mellow and sweet, with a hint of bamboo fragrance.
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