Chapter Five

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Bai Qingyu quickly updated the butler: "This is the pre-rain new tea from the authentic Wuyi Mountain Zhengyan, still in its raw tea form, not dried yet, so it got damp. I begged the butler to give it to me."

He Renyuan didn’t care whether the tea he sent was expensive or not—he had plenty. He just didn’t understand why the butler favored this new nanny so much that he even fabricated a cheap variety of tea, as if worried He would think the nanny was greedy.

“You’ve just arrived, how could Uncle Qi dare to give you damp tea? Bring it here; I’ll replace it with a box of Phoenix Dancong.”

The butler didn’t understand why He Renyuan was butting heads with Bai Qingyu. Dancong tea means single-bush harvested and processed tea, each tree producing a unique flavor. Its price is heavily inflated.

The butler thought it was no loss to exchange it; reselling it could bring wealth: “That’s a tea tree that the young master spent over a million to secure, personally chosen from the tea gardens…”

Bai Qingyu was shocked: “A million for a single tea tree?”

So He Renyuan was exactly the kind of big boss who could afford to keep tea trees. People shouldn’t be judged by appearances. He had heard many tea trees were treated with exceptional care.

The butler said, “It’s four hundred years old. Its rarity makes it precious.”

Bai Qingyu responded with a simple “Oh,” acknowledging that it was indeed older than him by a bit.

However, no matter how expensive the tea, he would never trade it for the baby. A bald baby wasn’t cute. Bai Xiaochai’s hair was thick and black, though not green enough, still quite adorable.

“No exchange.”

Did they really think he was fixated on that box of tea? He Renyuan said, “Uncle Qi, find the merchant, buy as many as you can.”

Bai Qingyu said, “You can’t find it anymore. New tea yields are low. That box is probably all there is. Tea quality is inseparable from the rain and sunlight of the year. Even if you find that merchant, you won’t get the exact same tea. It’s like the same parents can’t have two identical children.”

Just like Bai Xiaochai is a unique tea baby. Bai Qingyu’s eyes curved slightly with pride as he spoke.

“There’s a difference between a first-year and second-year tree. Even from the same tree under the same rain, the quality changes after a year. Young master should be able to taste that last night’s tea was from the second year’s new shoot. The taste of new tea changes yearly.”

Bai Xiaochai was two years old, his hair fine and soft, and next year would be different.

Bai Qingyu’s tone was gentle, but to He Renyuan it sounded sharp and biting.

He Renyuan sneered. This was no fool—it was clear his aunt truly cared for her nephew and had found him an infuriating nanny. The look on Bai Qingyu’s face was pure provocation. His cold eyes flickered and fixed steadily on Bai Qingyu’s face: “Then I’ll buy back that box from you.”

His tone was that of forced trade; if Bai Qingyu refused to sell, he would be immediately kicked out and forbidden to take anything with him.

Bai Qingyu shut down He Renyuan’s idea: “I can’t. I used it all for my bath last night.”

The butler gasped inwardly. This sounded like an argument. Their young master was not one to be trifled with. He Renyuan, a former lawyer, questioned like a detective, as if demanding Bai Qingyu present his bathwater as evidence.

He Renyuan said carefully, “Bath? Tea leaves for bathing? I’ll pay one hundred thousand. You’d better take it.”

Bai Qingyu was a bit surprised the employer was willing to pay so much, but no was no. Their tea god could not use his gifts to disrupt the human tea market and profit at the expense of others.

“No selling.”

Bai Qingyu said, “I really did bathe with it. Don’t believe me? Smell it. I still smell like it.”

He stepped closer, holding out his wrist before He Renyuan’s nose.

He Renyuan caught a faint, elegant, and tranquil scent of fresh tea. His disdainful gaze suddenly softened as he caught sight of the pale wrist, whiter than snow. He paused, feeling as if something had struck him, his eyes lifted to meet the honest, quiet face.

The honest man looked innocent.

The thought that such fine tea had been used as bathwater—and that the nanny had only given him a few leaves last night—was outrageous.

Could a normal person do this?

He Renyuan was so angry his teeth itched, yet had no righteous reason to lose his temper. His gaze on that wrist was murderous.

He brewed a little cup himself, while the nanny had bathed in a whole tub of tea! Tea leaves for bathing was unheard of, yet she really had bathed in it, leaving her body fragrant.

Still, no matter how fragrant, it was like a crow with peacock feathers—only a fleeting illusion. He would not be fooled by this nanny.

He Renyuan: “Stand back.”

Bai Qingyu stepped back two paces, lowering his hand.

Bai Qingyu seemed blameless, but He Renyuan was no less so. “Uncle Qi, pay him three months’ salary—compensate and dismiss him.”

Because Bai Qingyu stepped back, the scent faded from his nose. He Renyuan almost tilted forward like a dog chasing a bone but caught himself. His face darkened as he gritted his teeth, enduring the humiliation: “What era are those clothes from? Don’t act like I can’t pay wages.”

Keep him for now. Once the scent disappears or when he finds identical tea, he'll be gone immediately.

Bai Qingyu pinched the fabric of his sleeve. He had expected his employer to blow up, as the introducer had warned him. Instead, the employer paid him three months’ salary in advance to buy new clothes?

Why? Because he really liked the tea he gave him?

He Renyuan, who had a ton of tea hidden at home, knew the tea god’s tea was the most fragrant. The employer’s reluctance was an honor for the tea god.

Bai Qingyu assumed their tastes aligned and asked the employer, “Can I build a loofah trellis in the garden?”

A loofah trellis… what a fantasy.

He Renyuan had never seen such a thing in real life, let alone allow it under his window.

“Do you think this is the countryside?”

Bai Qingyu: “It saves money on vegetables. Homegrown tastes better.”

He Renyuan: “Uncle Qi.”

The butler immediately understood: “The kitchen sources organic green vegetables from a designated farm. Just one loofah costs fifty yuan. Qingyu, you don’t need to grow your own.”

Bai Qingyu was even more tempted to grow them and sell to suckers.

No wonder Bai Xiaobao was still thinking about not having free dinners while eating grilled sausage outside.

After snapping out of his tantrum, He Renyuan frowned as he started eating.

Bai Qingyu was about to sit down but noticed only the employer was seated; everyone else was quietly busy. It turned out that only when the employer was absent did the others gather at the table for meals.

Bai Qingyu straightened up and heard He Renyuan say, “You stand here and serve the dishes.”

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Bai Qingyu replied, “Oh.”

Usually, serving required some tact—not to pick food for the boss while turning the table. Bai Qingyu took the serving chopsticks and carefully placed a bit of everything onto He Renyuan’s plate, piling it full.

He Renyuan stared at the mishmash before him, speechless.

The butler slyly slipped away as Bai Qingyu served the food.

He Renyuan: “Are you feeding pigs?”

Bai Qingyu: “Don’t you like it?”

He Renyuan took a deep breath, admitting he was mad enough to let a countryside nanny serve his food. He knew nothing about dining etiquette.

He picked two bites of vegetables, gulped down the porridge, and, full of anger, said, “I’m done.”

Soon, someone came and cleared all the dishes from the table. Bai Qingyu blinked, stunned. The young master wasted food at breakfast; how about lunch? The steamed seafood, steamed egg, and pastries on the table were nearly untouched.

Bai Qingyu quickly pressed down on He Renyuan’s plate: “Leave this for me.”

He Renyuan: “That’s my leftovers.”

Bai Qingyu: “I don’t mind.” He wanted to salvage whatever he could; the little one hadn’t eaten yet, and this bowl was just right.

He Renyuan coldly said, “I mind. Throw it away.”

Bai Qingyu poured it into his bowl: “Wasting food is wrong.”

He Renyuan: “...” Judging by the way he handled it, it wasn’t so disgusting.

Before he could react, Bai Qingyu whisked the leftovers away.

He couldn’t very well snatch them back.

Ridiculous—this nanny had been riled up early this morning. Plus, he had slept well last night, so this “energy” was a good thing.

Bai Qingyu carried the food upstairs. By now, the little one was awake, basking comfortably in the morning sunlight, counting his fingers and turning over a full 360 degrees to sunbathe.

Waking up to no father but sunshine, Bai Xiaochai understood that dad had gone to work.

Bai Qingyu closed the windows and quietly said, “Baby, time to eat.”

The little tea baby looked up at the bowl in his father’s hands.

Bai Qingyu first poured him a cup of warm water, feeding him two sips, then gave him a steamed bun.

Bai Xiaochai held the bun with both hands, licked it, eyes curving with delight. He glanced at the plate, like Grandpa Deng, pinching the bun to dip it in the sauce before biting heartily: “Let’s eat!”

He was bigger than the one downstairs and much more earnest at eating.

Bai Qingyu watched his son with satisfaction: “Baby, you’ll definitely grow taller than Young Master He.”

How tall was He Renyuan? About 1.9 meters? In any case, he was one of the tallest Bai Qingyu had ever seen, making him a good reference point for Bai Xiaochai.

“Adults can’t bring kids to work; the boss would fire me. If the boss is home, I can’t take you to the garden to sunbathe,” Bai Qingyu rubbed his son’s head. “You stay inside and sunbathe, okay?”

Bai Xiaochai, thrilled to be eating a free, sumptuous meal, answered excitedly: “Okay!”

The little one’s voice was loud; Bai Qingyu almost covered his mouth but thought better of it. If he suppressed his nature just to live as a guest in the city, he might as well return to farming in the countryside.

The mansion’s soundproofing was good; no one could hear normal talking.

Bai Qingyu played a hand-clapping game with Bai Xiaochai carefree.

“You clap one, I clap one, one baby flies a plane.”

Bai Xiaochai: “One baby flies a plane!”

“You clap two, I clap two, two babies sing a song.”

Bai Xiaochai was puzzled: “Are there other babies?”

Well, the hand-clapping rhyme needed adapting.

Bai Qingyu gave him a small cookie from the butler.

“No other babies. You clap three, I clap three, Tea Baby loves cookies the most.”

Bai Xiaochai immediately forgot the game, clutching the cookie to his mouth.

The cookie was delicious!

Downstairs, He Renyuan, about to head out to work, frowned as he opened the car door.

Was it his imagination? Why did he hear a child’s voice?

But when he focused carefully, it was gone.

There couldn’t be a child in his house. The nearest house, even if three children cried their hearts out, wouldn’t be heard here.

Maybe it was a stray cat.

“Young master, shall I prepare dinner tonight?” The butler gently asked if He Renyuan would come home for dinner.

He was about to say no—he could stay at the company to numb his mind, working through insomnia—when his gaze lifted to the third-floor window. The scent was fading, wasn’t it? He changed his answer: “Yes.”

The butler calmly agreed. He Renyuan wouldn’t come home on time; usually, dinner started at eight, and the family would eat together.

*

In the garden was a circle of tea trees. Tea trees didn’t thrive well in the city, even with the gardener’s care—they never looked as vibrant as those on the mountain. Bai Qingyu “nurtured” the tea trees until they looked perkier, then washed his hands and headed to the kitchen to see if he could help.

On the way to the kitchen, Bai Qingyu found a tea processing room, fully equipped, but the door was closed and looked unused for a long time.

It seemed He Renyuan truly loved tea. The tea god Bai Qingyu decided to be more tolerant of him.

In the kitchen, Sister Liu was busy. Though called “Sister,” she was older than the butler and known by her local name, Sister Liu.

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Bai Qingyu lifted a pot lid and saw a pot of steamed rice.

“Is this for lunch? Isn’t it a bit little?”

Sister Liu explained, “No, this is the rice prepared especially for Young Master He this morning. Since we weren’t sure if he wanted porridge or rice, we prepared both.”

Bai Qingyu: “Then let’s eat it at noon.”

Sister Liu smiled: The butler instructed to cook braised noodles for lunch. She had already hand-rolled the noodles in sufficient quantity, so the rice wouldn’t be needed.

The braised noodles hid the butler’s private intent. If they cooked vegetables, Bai Qingyu would mix them into Bai Xiaochai’s food. It was better to have a bowl of soft, tasty noodles that were easy to digest. Kids eating noodles had to be cute.

Bai Qingyu: “Then I’ll eat it tonight.”

Sister Liu: “We’ll have noodles again tonight.”

Bai Qingyu: “Ah, then this rice… leave it for the eldest young master; it was made for him originally. I heard he won’t be home until eight or nine at night. I’ll make late-night snacks from now on.”

Sister Liu was old and used to sleeping early. Since He Renyuan’s return time was irregular, she left the late-night cooking to the “immortal.”

Sister Liu: “No, no, rice must be freshly steamed. Young Master He can tell right away when it’s fresh.”

Bai Qingyu: “No problem. Does the young master have any dietary restrictions?”

On this, Sister Liu chatted extensively: “Cilantro, celery, bitter melon, mutton, fish…”

Bai Qingyu was astonished: “So picky? How did he grow so tall then?” He felt even more confident Bai Xiaochai would outgrow He Renyuan.

Sister Liu: “These are just my guesses about Young Master He’s tastes. He never says what he likes or dislikes.”

Her cooking wisdom: “The less he says, the more careful we must be. We avoid strong flavors, fishy or gamey smells, heat-inducing foods, bitterness, and anything too spiky. None of that gets served.”

Bai Qingyu summed up: “So basically, he can eat everything?”

Sister Liu fell silent. Well, she hadn’t heard of anything he couldn’t eat.

Bai Qingyu was confident.

Sister Liu’s noodle-making was excellent. She made the noodles herself. At noon, it would be tomato braised noodles; at night, abalone minced meat noodles.

Bai Xiaochai was brought downstairs to eat noodles. At his age, he wasn’t fit to sit at the table; sitting on the floor with a small bench suited him better.

He clumsily picked up noodles with two chopsticks. When one noodle slipped to the floor, he quickly picked it up and ate it, wiping his fingers on his clothes.

He ate busily and energetically, a fine sweat on his forehead. When some broth remained, he lifted the bowl, larger than his face, and drank it poutily.

It was like a performance. Except for Bai Qingyu, everyone watched Bai Xiaochai eat.

“Ah, ah.” The mute sisters gestured and whispered among themselves.

The butler asked the sign language interpreter: “What are they saying?”

The shy interpreter said timidly: “It’s just sisterly gossip.”

The butler said “Oh” and didn’t inquire further. After watching the little one eat, he happily lifted his own bowl.

After nine at night, He Renyuan, who had instructed the house to prepare dinner, just finished work.

Bai Qingyu waited downstairs until drowsy. Finally, the car headlights flickered through the glass and shone on his face. The villa was silent. Except Sister Liu occasionally made late-night snacks for He Renyuan, everyone else was in their rooms enjoying their off-hours.

He Renyuan usually didn’t need late-night snacks; he needed quiet. As he walked from the door to the second-floor bedroom, the day’s events flashed rapidly through his mind. Before sleeping, he would record them in detail on paper, no longer trusting his memory to hold everything.

At the stairway, he was stopped by the new nanny.

“Boss, have you eaten dinner?”

He Renyuan thought and realized he hadn’t arranged any appointments today, so he skipped a meal. “No.”

Bai Qingyu’s eyes brightened: “Then I’ll make you a late-night snack.”

Luckily, he was worried no one would eat that pot of rice from the morning.

He Renyuan didn’t trust this seemingly honest nanny and was about to go upstairs: “No need.”

Bai Qingyu: “Don’t go, don’t go. It’s ready. I’ll just bring it out.”

He Renyuan felt a strange mood. Since she waited this long, he might as well see what she could make.

He sat at the dining table and switched on a warm yellow wall lamp.

After a while, a bowl of thin porridge appeared, the broth tinged green.

“What’s this?”

Bai Qingyu: “Tea rice. Boss, don’t you like that tea? Today I emptied the box, found the last few leaves. Steeped five hours—very flavorful.”

He Renyuan’s face darkened. Steeped? Did she have to remind him of the tea bath again? Hot tea soaked leftover rice—no skill involved. He suspected this was the same rice from the morning.

“Not hungry.”

Bai Qingyu stirred the tea rice, trying hard to persuade him: “Really not eating? It’s the only remaining tea in the world.”

He Renyuan took a deep breath. Was this hunger salesmanship?

He stared at the bowl before him. The pure orchid-like tea aroma overflowed as he stirred. The new shoot tea was a bit lacking in depth. If it were over a hundred-year-old old shoot, the fragrance would be softer and more exquisite…

He stopped his thoughts and stared at Bai Qingyu with malicious suspicion: “You didn’t use this for your bath, did you?”

One batch of tea leaves could be steeped two or even nine times. Was he drinking the nanny’s bathwater?

Disgusting.