Light rain, like a thin gauze, drifted over Lake Hongze.
On the terrace of the lakeside cabin, Yang Ge sat cross-legged before the tea table, casually boiling water and preparing tea, dressed in loose beige linen clothes and a pair of worn black cloth shoes. His attire complemented the roughly crafted round log tea table, the black iron teapot, and the yellow clay stove, exuding an elegantly simple and peaceful air of returning to the basics.
The amber-colored Dianhong Tea, as it flowed through the coarse porcelain teaware, released a light mist of steam carrying a faint scent of honey...
A sip of the scalding tea went down, and two satisfied sighs of "ah" sounded simultaneously.
Yang Ge set down his teacup, looked across at the flamboyant young man lounging on the rosewood concubine's chair with eyes mixed with delight and helplessness, and said, "No sooner had Yang left than you showed up. Did you two plan this together?"
