Libra 15. Young girls harvesting the choicest leaves of green tea.
They call the tea “ancient emerald lily.” The tea bushes are wild, and so old the girls that harvest them must stand on little ladders to pick the smallest leaves that appear in spring at the tips of the branches.
On a dark winter day we discovered a tin of it on a shelf and brewed it, and a mist rose out of the pot which was scented pale green like the spring mists of an old Chinese forest.
“I have heard,” said Irnad, that long ago, when these wild tea bushes were in their infancy alchemists buried an emerald at the base of each bush, which has imparted to their leaves, over time a a flavor that enthralls the tongue, but which it can find no words to describe. I have been curious to know if that were true, but would never dig to find out, as my love for the tea overpowers my inquisitiveness.”