Old Friends Reunite

"Sir Gu, it was impolite of me. I hope you won't take offense," Wu Guniang said, bowing slightly in apology.

Gu Ning'an nodded slightly. "It's nothing. Tell me, why did you call for me?"

Hearing this, Wu Guniang leaned in closer to him, glanced around to ensure no one in the tea house was paying attention to them, then lowered her voice and asked, "Sir Gu, are you an immortal?"

Gu Ning'an responded matter-of-factly, "I'm not."

"Then your appearance…" Wu Guniang, clearly dissatisfied with this answer, pressed further, "Why is it that over twenty years have passed, yet you still look so young?"

Gu Ning'an replied with a smile, "Though I'm not an immortal, I know a bit of magic. Naturally, it makes me look a bit younger."

"Oh…" Wu Guniang lowered her head. After a moment of silence, she looked up again. "Since you've seen me as a child, did you also meet my mother?"

Gu Ning'an nodded. "I did."

"Really?" Wu Guniang grabbed his arm, her face lighting up with excitement. "My father says she was the most resilient person in the world, but no matter how much I ask, he won't tell me why he describes her that way.

"Why did my father describe her as resilient? Do you know, Sir? How could a woman be described with such a word?"

Hearing this, Gu Ning'an was momentarily stunned. Then, he replied, "If your father won't say, he must have his reasons. However, I can tell you this—your mother truly was the most resilient person in the world."

As he spoke, Gu Ning'an's gaze shifted to Wu Guniang's hand, which was still tightly gripping his arm.

Noticing his look, Wu Guniang's cheeks flushed red. She quickly let go, only to realize that she had wrinkled the fabric of his sleeve.

Hesitating for a moment, she was about to smooth it out for him, but Gu Ning'an simply gave his sleeve a shake, and the wrinkles vanished instantly.

"My father won't explain, and neither will you… Why is that?" Wu Guniang sighed in frustration, leaning her body against the counter in a defeated posture.

Seeing her like this, Gu Ning'an's left hand moved slightly, his fingers pinching as if calculating something. When his index finger paused at the You position(270° west), he spoke up: "In three days, it's your birthday. I'll give you a gift."

Perhaps due to not receiving the answer she wanted, Wu Guniang replied unenthusiastically, "There's no need to go to the trouble, Sir. I have no shortage of rouge or powders."

Gu Ning'an chuckled softly. "Three days from now, wake up at dawn and have a bowl of longevity noodles. After that, go to bed at precisely three-quarters past You hour(5-7 PM) in the evening."

Confused by his cryptic instructions, Wu Guniang asked, "Sir, what kind of gift is this?"

"If you do as I say, you'll receive your gift," Gu Ning'an replied. As he spoke, he felt a sudden warmth in his palm. Looking down, he saw a wisp of red mortal energy swirling around his hand.

When he lightly touched the red energy with his finger, an image appeared before his eyes—a figure working diligently to roast tea, with a faint and refreshing tea fragrance lingering in the air.

Beside him, Wu Guniang pondered Gu Ning'an's instructions carefully.

A bowl of longevity noodles in the morning and going to bed at a specific time in the evening—what kind of gift could this be? Although Sir Gu denied being an immortal, this had to be modesty...

After all, who in the mundane world could retain their youthful appearance for decades?

At least, Wu Guniang had only ever encountered such stories in folklore.

Thinking along these lines, the idea of receiving a "gift from an immortal" filled her with anticipation.

While Wu Guniang was still imagining what extraordinary gift she might receive, Gu Ning'an gathered up the wisp of red mortal energy, left her with the words, "The tea is ready; I'll go find Manager Wu," and headed toward the back room.

Even though he had never walked this path before, he unerringly found the correct way to the back room.

Wu Guniang snapped out of her thoughts and hurriedly followed Gu Ning'an, intending to lead the way. But just as she was about to catch up, a young man, drenched from the rain and wearing a straw raincoat, entered the teahouse. Reaching the counter, he was momentarily stunned by Wu Guniang's beauty.

Seeing the young man blocking her path and remaining silent, Wu Guniang anxiously glanced at Gu Ning'an's retreating figure. Frustrated, she pushed past the young man and hurried toward the rear of the teahouse, mumbling under her breath, "Longevity noodles, You hour three-quarters..."

The drenched young man, visiting this teahouse for the first time, was shocked by the perceived rudeness of the shopkeeper's daughter. Just as he was about to call her out, one of the traveling merchants nearby threw an arm over his shoulder and said, "Relax, brother. That one's already spoken for."

"Come, join us for some tea at our table."

The drenched young man: ???

...

Raindrops the size of beans pattered against the eaves of the octagonal pavilion, producing a crisp and rhythmic sound.

Inside, Shopkeeper Wu extinguished the fire in the stone stove, his hands rhythmically stirring a large iron wok with a wooden pestle.

One turn... two turns... three turns...

"Strange, usually it only takes five turns, not eight..."

As he completed the eighth turn, his hands didn't stop, but his bushy brows knitted tightly together. He muttered to himself in confusion.

"What eight turns, five turns... Are you brewing tea or playing dominoes?"

Creaaak!

The pestle halted abruptly on the ninth turn. Startled, Shopkeeper Wu rested the pestle on the edge of the wok. Slowly turning around, he froze upon seeing the familiar figure in green robes from his memories. Waves of emotions surged within him.

"Si... Sir Gu!"

"What's this?" Gu Ning'an teased. "Don't tell me Little Sanhua inherited her crybaby nature from you?"

At this moment, Wu Guniang, still lost in her own thoughts, approached the octagonal pavilion. She paused at the sight of her father's almost tearful expression.

"Father?"

Hearing his daughter's voice, Shopkeeper Wu bit his lip, pinched his thigh hard, and grimaced before snapping, "What are you doing here? There are still customers outside. Go attend to them!"

"Unless I call for you, don't disturb my conversation with the sir!"

His tone was not particularly kind. Feeling wronged for being scolded out of the blue, Little Sanhua bit her lip, let out a huff, and stormed off.

Seeing his old friend in such an awkward situation, Gu Ning'an chuckled. "You'll have to spend quite some time making it up to Little Sanhua after this."

Shopkeeper Wu grinned sheepishly. "It's fine. I've spoiled her since she was young, letting her get away with anything... She didn't upset you earlier, did she?"

"She's not a bull, and I'm not wearing a red sash. How could she upset me?" Gu Ning'an quipped, his eyes glancing at the large iron wok filled with vibrant green tea leaves. He smacked his lips and added, "I came here for tea, after all."

Hearing this, the slight tension Shopkeeper Wu felt—born of the belief that there should be a natural reverence between mortals and immortals—vanished entirely in that moment.

"Ah, my memory is failing me!" Shopkeeper Wu gestured invitingly. "Please, sir, have a seat!"

"The tea will be served immediately!"

Gu Ning'an sat on a long stone bench on one side of the octagonal pavilion. Meanwhile, Shopkeeper Wu picked up a prepared tea bowl and, using a pair of bamboo chopsticks, carefully scooped the steaming tea leaves from the wok into the bowl.

The tea bowl was unique, a rustic, earthy-yellow vessel with a wide mouth that exuded an old-fashioned charm.

Hot water arced gracefully into the bowl, setting the tea leaves spinning in a whirlpool.

The rich aroma of tea burst forth, filling the air.

Gu Ning'an took a deep breath, his expression softening into one of satisfaction. "Yes... this is the flavor I remember."

Placing the tea bowl gently by Gu Ning'an's side, Shopkeeper Wu reminded him, "Be careful—it's hot." Then, just as he had done in years past, he gazed at Gu Ning'an with bright, expectant eyes, waiting for the sir's appraisal of his family's tea.