Chapter 10: Of Clay Pots and Quiet Promises
The third week of summer settled in like a warm quilt—cicadas buzzing low in the trees, plum blossoms beginning to wilt, and the distant fields humming under golden light. In Nanjiang Town, the days blurred together in soft tones of tea, sunlight, and the gentle rhythm of people simply living.
Lin Mu sat at the bamboo table in his back garden, surrounded by the quiet rustling of herbs and the fresh scent of soil. His hands worked steadily, carefully transferring dried osmanthus petals into thin paper sachets. Each one was hand-tied with twine, labeled in Xu Qingling's neat handwriting.
He didn't rush.
Somewhere beyond the courtyard wall, a rooster crowed lazily. The faint clink of ceramic cups came from his grandmother's room—she was hosting her neighbors for their weekly morning gossip.
Life was still.
And stillness, to Lin Mu, felt more valuable than gold.
---
Xu Qingling arrived just past nine.
She wore a soft cream blouse today, her usual linen satchel hanging from one shoulder. Her hair was tied back loosely, and strands fluttered across her cheeks as the morning wind stirred.
She waved quietly as she stepped into the courtyard. "Smells like late summer already," she said.
Lin Mu looked up and offered her the stool beside him. "Try this," he said, handing her a pouch. "Osmanthus and red jujube."
She untied it and brought it to her nose. "Mmm," she murmured, closing her eyes. "It smells like Mid-Autumn Festival in my grandmother's house."
"I'm blending it into a night tea," Lin Mu said. "Gentle enough for older customers, maybe with a calming note."
She smiled. "You're really starting to think like a tea master."
"I'm just listening to what people ask for," he said simply.
She glanced down at the paper sachets, then leaned over and began helping him tie them. They worked side by side for a while, the breeze brushing past their sleeves, the bamboo leaves whispering above them.
---
Around midday, she pulled a folded flyer from her satchel and slid it across the table.
"Small Business Expo in Liyuan District," she said. "End of the month. One-day setup. Locals, artists, food stalls, artisans. They're opening spaces for tea makers too."
Lin Mu frowned lightly. "Liyuan's a bit far."
"Two towns over," she nodded. "But the crowd's bigger. You wouldn't need a full booth—just a table and samples."
He hesitated. "I've never done something that… exposed."
"It's not pressure," she said, her voice gentle. "Just an opportunity."
She let the flyer rest between them and didn't push further.
Lin Mu studied the flyer, then folded it carefully and set it aside.
"I'll think about it," he said.
---
That afternoon, the two of them took a walk through town, their usual route winding past the canal and into the small ceramics market near the eastern end of the old street.
A potter named Uncle Yuan had set out new wares under a bamboo awning—rows of handmade teapots, cups, and incense burners. His fingers were permanently stained with clay, and he greeted Lin Mu like a familiar nephew.
"You looking for something?" the old man asked with a grin.
"I need a better teapot for cooling blends," Lin Mu said.
Xu Qingling wandered among the shelves, lifting a tiny celadon cup and turning it in her hand. "These feel nice," she said. "Cool to the touch. Balanced."
She paused in front of a round, lidded pot with a matte charcoal finish. "What about this one?"
Lin Mu took it from her hands, feeling the weight. It was well-crafted, with an understated beauty—nothing flashy, just solid, honest work. Much like the kind of business he wanted to build.
"I like it," he said.
"Gift it to your future tearoom," she said with a smile.
Lin Mu looked at her, then at the pot again. "It's not a tearoom yet."
"But it will be," she replied softly. "And this will be the first thing on the table."
---
They returned home in the golden hour, the new pot wrapped carefully in cloth and tucked under Lin Mu's arm. As they entered the courtyard, Xu Qingling paused by the garden gate.
She looked around—the climbing beans curling on their poles, the lavender in bloom, the makeshift bench under the pomegranate tree.
"You know," she said, brushing her hand across a leaf, "this place could already be the tearoom."
Lin Mu raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"
"I do," she said. "It doesn't have to be big. Just somewhere people come to rest."
He stood beside her, following her gaze.
A long silence passed.
Then he said quietly, "If I built it here… would you help me run it?"
She didn't answer at once. Just looked up at him, her eyes steady.
Then, with a nod: "Yes. I would."
---
That night, as moonlight fell softly over the rooftops, Lin Mu entered the portable world.
The pavilion now stood complete beside the lotus pond, its floor swept clean and its cushions fluffed by a soft breeze the system generated. The scent of lemongrass drifted in the air, and lanterns flickered along the path.
He stepped inside and placed the new charcoal teapot on the table.
Even here, it felt like it belonged.
A message blinked softly in his vision.
---
[System Update Available: Guest Entry Mode – Version 1.0]
You may now invite up to one person per day into the portable world for a limited period.
Time inside still flows at a 100:1 ratio. Consent required from both parties.
→ Activate?
---
Lin Mu stared at it for a long moment.
His heart beat a little faster.
Then he tapped: Not yet.
He wasn't ready.
Not just yet.
---
The next day, Lin Mu awoke early and began rearranging the real garden.
He brought out an old table from the storage room, dusted it off, and set it beneath the pomegranate tree. Then, one by one, he placed a few essential items:
A woven mat for guests.
A box of assorted sachets.
Two cups.
The charcoal teapot.
When Xu Qingling arrived mid-morning, she stopped in the doorway.
"You changed something," she said.
"I'm preparing," he replied.
"For what?"
"For a small test," he said. "A preview of something we'll build together."
She stepped forward, studying the setup. "You're going to serve people here?"
"Just a few," he said. "Quietly. A soft open."
Her smile was the answer he needed.
---
By evening, two guests had already come.
One was the elderly woman with sleep issues—she sat at the table and sipped Lin Mu's jujube blend while humming an old folk tune. The other was a young courier who dropped in unexpectedly and ended up buying three sachets for his mother.
Word had begun spreading again.
Only now, it wasn't just about tea.
It was about a place.
A small pocket of stillness where people came, not to shop or rush, but to pause.
---
Later that night, as the stars gathered thick above Nanjiang Town, Lin Mu stood at the garden gate. Xu Qingling joined him, carrying two cups of tea.
They drank in silence for a while.
Then she spoke. "You know, I used to think the only way to succeed was to chase bigger cities, better jobs, more titles."
He looked at her.
"And now?"
She turned to him, the moonlight brushing her cheek. "Now I think… peace is worth chasing, too."
He didn't speak—just handed her a slip of paper.
It was a tiny menu. Handwritten. Minimalist. Labeled: Pavilion Blends.
At the bottom, a name:
Stillness House.
She looked up.
"Is this… the name?"
He nodded. "It's not official yet. Just an idea."
"I love it," she whispered.
Then, after a moment: "When you're ready, Lin Mu… I'll be there."
And that night, for the first time in a long while, Lin Mu believed—truly—that the future he was building didn't need to be loud, flashy, or grand.
It only needed to be real.
And shared.
---
End of Chapter 10