"I really owe Fan Mei," Yang Qing whispered with a sigh, silently recording the favor he owed.
"I should send her different varieties before I leave," he added, toying with ideas of which tea flavors to send to Fan Mei. During his brief meditative seclusion at the nest, he had created a few batches, though 'create' in this sense was just him imbuing his spiritual qi and grounded leaves from the green flame tree into already brewed tea.
"If only Ol' Jiang were around," he muttered with a longing sigh, the image of the skilled tea maker from Thousands Flavors Restaurant floating into his mind. His masterclass oolong tea would have produced great results if paired with Yang Qing's spiritual qi and the grounded leaves from the green flame tree.
