A long time ago, high in the mountains, a small village called Dragon's Well was lost. And there were only about ten houses in it, and even those were scattered on the slopes of the surrounding mountains. In the distant mountains, peasants planted bamboo, and in the nearby mountains, cereals. They worked from dawn to dusk, but were never well-fed; at the very edge of the village there was a dilapidated hut, covered with straw, in which an old woman lived. She had neither children nor a husband, and she lived out her life alone. She could no longer climb the mountains and cultivate the land. I barely had enough strength to care for a dozen old tea bushes in the yard. The bushes grew old along with their owner, and she collected from them once a year no more than a few jins of coarse dark green leaves.
This woman had to endure a lot of grief in her life, but she retained her kindness, despite all the hardships, and now she tried as best she could to brighten up the lives of those around her. Every day she took a few leaves, brewed tea and placed it at the door of her hut so that fellow villagers coming down from the mountains after work could quench their thirst.
One day on New Year's Eve, when thick snow was falling in the mountains, the village was preparing for the holiday. All the old woman's supplies had dried up, except for a few tea leaves, but she still decided not to change the established custom. Rising early, the old woman put these leaves into a cauldron, poured boiling water over them and set them to steep near the hearth. Suddenly there was a noise outside. The door opened, and an old man covered with snow appeared on the threshold. The old woman hurriedly approached him: “Most Honorable One, there is snow in the mountains, wait a little in my house.” The stranger shook off the snow, walked into the room, and his curious gaze settled on the fireplace:
“Mistress, what do you have in the cauldron? I insist on tea,” the old woman answered him. The guest was very surprised: “There’s not much time left until the New Year.” Tomorrow is everyone's big holiday and in all families they kill a bull, a lamb or a wild boar to appease their ancestors, and you just make tea! “I’m too poor,” the woman sighed bitterly, “I have nothing to sacrifice to my ancestors, but every day I prepare tea and treat it to my fellow villagers.”
Unexpectedly for her, the stranger laughed: “Why are you complaining about poverty when you have a treasure hidden in your yard!”
Hearing this, the old woman went out into the yard to look for a place where the treasure might be hidden. But everything was as usual there: near the shed, covered with spruce branches, there were two benches, and in the corner there was a cracked stone mortar, in which garbage had been rotting since last year. Nothing new appeared in the yard. The stranger followed the hostess and pointed to the mortar:
- Here is your wealth! “Can a mortar really be wealth?” - the old woman was amazed. Apparently the stranger is mocking me, she thought and added: “If you like her, you can take her!” “How can I take this jewel from you for nothing?” - he exclaimed, - sell me this mortar. If I agree, then I’ll go get people to help me carry her away.
The stranger, satisfied with the deal, left. The old woman looked at the mortar for a long time, but could not understand why the guest liked it, and decided that it was not right to sell such a dirty thing. She pulled out the trash from the mortar and buried it under the tea bushes. Then the old woman poured water into the mortar, washed it, and threw out the dirty water under the same bushes. She had already finished her work and was admiring the clean mortar when the stranger returned with the village boys. At the sight of the washed mortar, he screamed heart-rendingly:
-What have you done? Where did the wealth go?
The old woman never expected that her labors would cause such strong anger, and she was completely taken aback:
- Yes, I just washed her! -Where did you go with everything that was in the mortar? — the stranger even stamped his foot out of impatience. - Yes, I buried it under the tea bushes. - What a pity! - the stranger exclaimed in a trembling voice. - After all, this garbage was real wealth, now it has passed into the tea bushes. He waved his hand and told the guys to go home. The New Year holiday is over, and soon spring has come. And then, unexpectedly, all the tea bushes in the yard were covered with many emerald leaves. But when the old woman began to collect them, people were even more surprised: the tea leaves were unusually tender, juicy and fragrant. Fellow villagers began to ask the old woman for shoots from these wonderful bushes, and from then on, instead of bamboo, they planted tea plantations in the mountains. Over the years, tea with an extraordinary taste and aroma, which was prepared from leaves collected in these places, began to be called “Dragon’s Well” tea.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru