Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Ancient Town

But at least Mr. Zhang still knew how to save face for the reporters; as he stir-fried the tea leaves, he would speak out, instructing Chen Xin on how to exert force, how to adjust her strength, and how to master the heat—each step guided by his advice.

This time, Chen Xin was fortunate enough to use the tossing method and successfully completed the entire process.

The reporters took a multitude of photos, most showing Mr. Zhang directing from the side, while Chen Xin listened intently to his explanations and worked diligently with her hands. They already had a title in mind: "Inheritance."

This interview was also a task assigned by the city's cultural office, urging them to discover artisans with traditions to pass on—brewing wine, stir-frying tea, bamboo weaving, embroidery, and the like. Besides here, they had to rush to another county to film at another famous tea company.

After sending off the village chief and the reporters, Mr. Zhang silently finished stir-frying the remaining tea leaves.

"What's wrong with Grandpa Zhang? He seems in low spirits," someone asked.

"He's missing our second son," Mrs. Zhang replied, glancing at her husband with a silent sigh.

Their second son was seven years younger than the eldest. Since childhood, he'd liked to follow his father around. When his father was at the stove, he would watch him stir-fry and shape the tea. If he hadn't left to join the army, perhaps Mr. Zhang's craft would have been passed down to him.

Chen Xin thought of this too, and her nose tingled with emotion, feeling the couple had endured so much.

The more she pondered, the more she wanted to do something for Mr. Zhang. But what could a mere ordinary citizen like her possibly do?

After returning to the sanatorium, Chen Xin spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning, wrestling with the matter.

Just before dawn, a sudden idea came to her. She considered every detail carefully and found it practical.

But this wasn’t something she could do alone; it would be best to find some partners, and official support would be ideal.

After getting up, she didn't hurry to climb the mountain but first called Cheng Jie to mention her idea.

Cheng Jie thought it was a great idea after hearing Chen Xin out. Her current work was related, and she happened to be at a bottleneck. What Chen Xin wanted to do could be helped by her professional connections, and she could enlist other friends as well. The entire plan was entirely feasible.

"Alright, Sister Cheng, you figure out how to start, and I'll talk with Mr. Zhang to see if he's willing to cooperate."

If Mr. Zhang wasn’t willing, the plan would be difficult to carry out. After all, it would mean digging into old wounds, and Chen Xin worried it might make him sad or angry.

"You’re saying you want to publish a book, specifically about artisans like me?"

"Not just old artisans. I want to find elderly people in situations like yours, Mr. Zhang, and see how they live now. I hope society and the government can pay more attention to their later years."

Mr. Zhang was silent for a long time before finally nodding to accept Chen Xin's request. He was lucky still to have a daughter, and both she and her husband were filial. But many of his old comrades were much worse off in their old age. If Chen Xin could realize her vision, they might use the proceeds from book sales to set up a fund dedicated to the basic needs of elderly people. In that case, his skills wouldn't have been passed on to Chen Xin in vain.

Once Mr. Zhang agreed, Chen Xin returned to the city and submitted her draft of "The Taste of Floral Tea" to the editor for review. Then she met with Cheng Jie and the others, dividing responsibilities as planned.

Chen Xin had a good relationship with Zhou Hao, so her task was to see if Zhou Hao could obtain information from the military district about families of martyrs. Based on those records, they would select interview subjects.

After more than two weeks, they confirmed five interview subjects. Chen Xin would be responsible for Mr. Zhang's family and another elderly person living over forty kilometers from the back hills.

That elderly person lived in a desolate ancient town. Before this project, Chen Xin hadn't even known such a town existed nearby. However, a famous local dish associated with the town was well-known.

When Chen Xin arrived at the ancient town with Cheng Jie and another colleague, it was noon.

There weren't many people in the town. Occasionally, groups of young people with backpacks passed by.

It was remote and far from the town center. Ancient, weathered city walls stood in ruins, whispering their long history.

"Our town might not look like much, but it has over 1,700 years of history. It was established as a county during the Northern Dynasties and merged into the current county during the Northern Song. It used to be even more sparsely populated. People found it inconvenient, so new farm residences were built three kilometers across the river. But last year, the tourism loop was planned, running along the old highway outside town, linking us to the circuit. Early this year, the town government began discussing developing a tourist ancient town, striving to keep the original residential style. Damaged houses are being demolished and rebuilt, river channels cleared, and the greenway along the river is being planned," a town government worker warmly explained to them, though they were not reporters. He also recommended several delicious local dishes.

"The old revolutionary you’re looking for lives at the end of this alley. Watch your step—there was rain a few days ago, and the drains here are probably blocked. All the wastewater has flooded up."

Along the muddy path, two rows of red bricks were lined up against the walls for people to walk on. One side for entering, the other for exiting; the alley was wide enough for two people to pass side by side.

After making their way through the flooded alley and turning a corner, they saw three or four elderly people and two middle-aged men digging a ditch.

"Are you planning to rebuild the ditch or just clear the old one?" Xiao Wu, their guide, stopped to ask. The town had a unified plan for the ancient area, and he worried the residents might be making unauthorized changes.

"Is that you, Xiao Wu?" An old woman poked her head out of a nearby courtyard, her kindly face smiling at him. "Your uncle and the others want to clear the ditch here. The drain up ahead must be badly clogged—the water hasn’t gone down for two days. There used to be an old ditch here, running straight to the river, but it was sealed for fear of polluting the water. But now, with all this flooding, it’s not working either. So they want to temporarily open it, then seal it again once the drains are cleared."

Xiao Wu paused to check and greeted the men digging, telling them to hold off until the town sent someone to inspect. Even if they followed the residents’ wishes, it needed to be documented and the reasons explained—otherwise, no one could shirk responsibility later.