Is This The Right Way To Repay A Favor? Chapter 30

Picking Tea

In the early morning, the tea mountain was still shrouded in thin mist. Layers of dark green tea terraces stretched downwards, and the newly sprouted tea buds still held the morning dew.

Aunt Fang led the guests to a section of the tea terrace and demonstrated the correct picking technique.

“When picking the leaves, we must gently pinch them off with our fingertips, not tear them. We need to ensure the integrity of ‘one bud and one leaf’,” Aunt Fang said, skillfully pinching off a tender bud.

The guests imitated her movements and each picked a leaf.

Aunt Fang inspected them one by one. Jiang Zhou’s pick was the most standard, Dong Qianqian’s was too coarse, Zhang Qian’s was too short, and the others were barely acceptable.

Cai Zhiyang couldn’t help but hold up the tea bud he picked and flaunt it in front of Zhang Qian and Dong Qianqian, “This young master is truly a genius! I learned it instantly!”

“What are you showing off for! You picked one leaf and you’re already strutting around. Are you a peacock?” Zhang Qian laughed and scolded him.

“What? You’re not convinced? If you’re not convinced, let’s have a competition!”

The two started bickering again and finally proposed a “tea picking competition,” dragging the other guests into the fray.

“How about this: we form teams by family, pick for two hours, and see which team picks the most and the best quality. The losers have to fulfill everyone’s wishes.”

In the previous days, the guests had successively visited the workshop and written down their wishes. Director Weng, Dong Qianqian, and the others had no objections.

Jiang Zhou secretly glanced at Shen Zhiyu. He didn’t explicitly agree but didn’t refuse either.

Cai Zhiyang took everyone’s silence as consent. “To prevent interfering with each other, how about we each choose a different section of the mountain to pick?”

No one objected, so everyone split up according to Cai Zhiyang’s arrangement.

Since Jiang Zhou and Shen Zhiyu were short one person, everyone voluntarily left this section of the mountain for them. Cai Zhiyang, egged on by Zhang Qian, proactively chose the farthest section. Zhang Qian’s group went to the western section.

Aunt Fang handed them the baskets and went down the mountain. Soon, this part of the tea mountain was only left with Jiang Zhou and Shen Zhiyu, and two accompanying cameramen.

The cameramen had been instructed repeatedly by Xue Pengfei before, so they dared not follow too closely, pulling their camera focus to the maximum zoom.

Jiang Zhou was worried that the post-production editing would struggle to crop him out, so he had intentionally maintained a distance from Shen Zhiyu during this period, trying to avoid being in the same frame.

He took the initiative to speak, “You pick on this row, I’ll go to the row above.”

Shen Zhiyu, holding his basket, looked at Jiang Zhou with dark eyes but said nothing.

Jiang Zhou carried his basket to the row above. He had been deliberately avoiding Shen Zhiyu these past few days, but he still kept Xue Pengfei informed of Shen Zhiyu’s movements.

For some unknown reason, Shen Zhiyu had little interest in participating in the activities these days. He consistently applied for three hours of isolation every day, and when he came out, he mostly went to the reading room to read. The footage was so boring that even the director was anxious for him.

Because of this, Jiang Zhou specifically checked the recent dates. That was when he remembered that March 5th was the date LUMEN first performed on a music show stage.

Jiang Zhou concluded that Shen Zhiyu was feeling down because of this date, so he reminded the production team to organize more group activities, hoping to get Shen Zhiyu involved and cheer him up.

This was why the tea picking activity was organized.

But Jiang Zhou hadn’t expected Cai Zhiyang to propose a family-unit tea picking competition. This once again paired him and Shen Zhiyu together.

Jiang Zhou was annoyed, but his tea picking movements didn’t stop, and he quickly filled a basket.

Jiang Zhou poured the tea buds from his basket into the large bamboo basket on the tea ridge. A pile of tea buds had already accumulated in the large basket, but the quality was uneven—some coarse, some fine, many not meeting the standard.

Apart from him, only Shen Zhiyu was on this tea garden section. So, the buds in this basket must have been picked by Shen Zhiyu.

Jiang Zhou searched the tea garden for Shen Zhiyu and found that he had already moved two rows down, picking at an astonishing speed.

Jiang Zhou quickly ran down, “Brother Yu, don’t pick so fast.”

Shen Zhiyu pinched off a large, coarse tea bud and casually tossed it into his basket. “Why?”

Jiang Zhou watched helplessly as the large, coarse tea bud was thrown into the basket and subtly reminded him, “Isn’t this one you picked a bit too big?”

“I think it’s fine.” Shen Zhiyu reached out, about to brutally pick another tea bud.

Jiang Zhou hastily stopped him, “It really is too big!”

“Oh.” Shen Zhiyu paused. “Then tell me how to pick it.”

Jiang Zhou pointed to a tea plant, “Look at this plant. We only pick the shoot of the branch, pinching the terminal bud with one leaf. A gentle twist with the fingertips—the movement must be quick, accurate, and light.”

A soft sound—”Da”—and the tender bud left the branch and landed in Jiang Zhou’s palm.

Shen Zhiyu reached out, his slender fingertips brushing against Jiang Zhou’s palm, like a faint electric current passing through, causing a slight shiver.

Jiang Zhou’s movements stiffened.

Shen Zhiyu picked up the bud from his palm, examined it closely, then looked at the ones he had picked in his own basket, and stated, “Not much difference.”

Jiang Zhou: …

Jiang Zhou picked up a bud from Shen Zhiyu’s basket, held it up level with the one in Shen Zhiyu’s hand, “The shoot of this one is a bit too large, not tender enough. You didn’t use the right technique when picking, so the cut isn’t smooth enough.”

“I don’t quite understand.” Shen Zhiyu tossed the bud into the basket. “Demonstrate a few more times for me to see.”

Jiang Zhou hadn’t expected him to still not understand, thinking it might be because he hadn’t done farm work before.

Jiang Zhou patiently explained again: selecting the bud, positioning, pinching off…

Shen Zhiyu’s gaze, however, was fixed on the hand picking the tea.

Jiang Zhou’s fingers were slender and pale, blindingly white against the backdrop of the dark green tea leaves. He found a bud, brought his thumb and index finger together slightly, and with a little force, the tender green shoot was pulled off.

During the movement, the faint blue veins beneath the fair, delicate skin were faintly visible, silently stirring someone’s heartstrings.

Jiang Zhou finished picking another one and asked, “Did you see it?”

Shen Zhiyu remained expressionless. “Pick a few more. Maybe if I watch enough, I’ll get it.”

Jiang Zhou didn’t doubt him, thinking he was genuinely slow to learn, and proceeded to pick from several more tea plants.

Shen Zhiyu’s gaze was intense, watching his hand pick bud after bud.

A surging tremor, starting along the blue veins of Jiang Zhou’s wrist, spread along an invisible curve, burning and extending directly into Shen Zhiyu’s body.

Shen Zhiyu’s throat felt dry and tight, and the fingertips of his right hand unconsciously curled slightly.

His gaze seemed to grow even hotter, forming an unignorable, almost suffocating, dangerous allure.

Jiang Zhou couldn’t pinpoint what felt wrong.

He stopped and turned back to ask, “Did you learn it?”

The beautiful hand was withdrawn, and Shen Zhiyu felt a slight regret. He collected himself, his expression calm. “I think… I got it.”

Shen Zhiyu reached out to the tea plant beside him, his fingertips landing below the terminal bud. A twist, a pinch, a retraction—the movement was seamless.

His action was skilled and swift, completely different from his previous technique. Jiang Zhou looked at him suspiciously.

Shen Zhiyu looked innocent, but his eyes were filled with undisguised amusement. “Oh, so that’s how you use the technique.”

“Mr. Jiang’s hands-on teaching is truly effective.”

This sudden and direct praise caught Jiang Zhou off guard, and his face instantly flushed hot.

He mumbled a response and turned to the next row of tea plants.

Shen Zhiyu stayed behind, seriously picking tea buds, his speed both fast and precise.

Shen Zhiyu had his own rhythm for teasing the “cat.” He preferred a push-and-pull, a slow burn, never rushing the attack.

Jiang Zhou had deliberately avoided him for a week, so he would deliberately make Jiang Zhou approach him willingly.

The tea buds in the bamboo basket were slowly piling up, but the sky was strangely darkening layer by layer. Heavy, dark gray replaced the pale morning mist.

With a rumble, a sudden clap of thunder exploded overhead, and large raindrops hammered down fiercely, instantly weaving into an impenetrable, cold curtain of water.

“It’s raining! Run!” Jiang Zhou’s voice came from the lower tea row, but it was instantly drowned out by the sound of thunder and heavy rain.

Before Shen Zhiyu could react, a force suddenly grabbed his arm from diagonally behind, dragging him away with irresistible strength.

Through the dense rain curtain, Shen Zhiyu saw Jiang Zhou’s soaking wet face.

“Go this way! There’s a small house there.” Jiang Zhou pulled him, running uphill.

The accompanying cameraman took off his jacket, covered his equipment, and then ran after them.

The heavy rain blurred their vision, and the two ran so fast that the cameraman quickly lost sight of them. They simply gave up chasing and ran straight down the mountain.

Shen Zhiyu was dragged by Jiang Zhou, stumbling and scrambling over the uneven rows of tea plants.

The downpour intensified, and his vision swayed. He could only see the figure ahead hastily clearing a path through the chaotic rain curtain.

In the urgent confusion, the sensation of the soaked sleeve was startlingly clear. Cold rainwater flowed down Jiang Zhou’s tightly gripped wrist, carrying a warm, humid heat generated by their frantic running, interweaving into an indescribable, chaotic feeling.

It was as if he and Jiang Zhou were sharing not just this desperate escape, but also the only warmth in the rain.

Shen Zhiyu subtly moved his fingers.

Jiang Zhou looked back while running and shouted, “What’s wrong?” His voice was torn and muffled by the heavy rain.

Jiang Zhou clearly realized this and suddenly braked, letting go of his hand. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

He was completely soaked, his hair stuck to his face, and his deer-like eyes shone brightly like stars in the rain curtain, as if they were the only dazzling light in this gray and black world.

Seeing Shen Zhiyu remain silent, Jiang Zhou nervously scanned him up and down. “Are you really hurt? I’m sorry, it’s my fault for running too fast and not paying attention…”

A strange, fervent tremor surged deep in Shen Zhiyu’s chest, unfamiliar and hot, like a cluster of flames that had been dormant for a long time and was suddenly awakened, burning fiercely and uncontrollably, difficult to extinguish.

In this moment, he desperately wanted to pull Jiang Zhou into his arms.

Thinking this, he did it.

Shen Zhiyu stretched out his long arm, abruptly grabbed Jiang Zhou’s arm, and pulled him toward himself.

Jiang Zhou gasped as he crashed into a solid embrace.

The rain poured down harder, and the sound of thunder was deafening. In the midst of the chaos, Jiang Zhou clearly heard the heavy, rapid beating in Shen Zhiyu’s chest, pounding against his eardrums like a drum.

“Shen…”

Before Jiang Zhou could finish his sentence, the hand gripping him suddenly slipped.

With a loud crash—”Bang”—Shen Zhiyu collapsed in the pouring rain.