Chapter 210 - 153 Poor Monk is not Poor_3
Once Shang Qingyun gave her a bottle of Chanel perfume, and she was excited for less than a minute before she heard him say, "Stop using that kind of perfume, you’re torturing your own nose, as well as everyone else’s."
Qian Yixiu was so angry that she cried on the spot, unable to hold back her tears. This was the first time the strong-willed her had cried in front of Shang Qingyun, although he kept apologizing, it took her a long time to bother with the guy again. But she still couldn’t bring herself to throw away the bottle of perfume, nor did she use it, and it stayed at the very back of her makeup cabinet until she died.
So, although she had no expertise in scents and was not good at discerning them, she could tell that this sandalwood was different from any other sandalwood she had smelled before.
The room was not large, and right in front was a tall stand with a gilded Buddha statue on offer, with an incense burner in front, burning a few sticks of incense, and two plates of fruit offerings on either side. To the right was a luohan bed, with a depression stand on it, and on the stand, a glazed fruit plate held several red apples. In the center was a table and several stools, with a set of blue and white fine porcelain small cups on the table. By the door near the window was a desk, with a row of bookshelves beside it.
There was a wooden door to the left, which must have been the bedroom.
The furniture in the room looked simple and unadorned, but the wood was of the highest quality and the craftsmanship was exquisite. Qian Yixiu could feel a subtle elegance at a glance. She thought to herself, it really is different for the disciples of high monks.
The Little Monk poured a cup of tea for their family, saying, "Drink up, this is the Wuxi Peak picked by Senior Liang, my master really likes it. The water is from the clear spring in the mountains, my nephew and I go deep into the mountains every few days to fetch some."
Wuxi Peak was a tea even the Emperor and Empress Dowager favored. The Old Monk was Uncle Liang’s master, so it made sense to offer him the best tea as filial respect. But to specifically fetch spring water from deep in the mountains to steep your tea takes their taste to an uncommonly high level.
Qian Yixiu would not let a good thing pass by. She picked up the tea cup, which was as clear as white jade, and watched the tender green clear soup emit a light fragrance, slowly unfurling. After taking a shallow sip, the bitterness with a hint of astringency left a longstanding fragrance on the lips and teeth.
"Mmm, good tea," said Qian Yixiu.
Qian Yeejin laughed knowingly and said, "Little Master, it’s not just the tea that’s good in your house, everything is."