History of a forgotten tea trail

A few days ago, while organizing the tea storage warehouse, I stumbled upon an old Jin Jian (Golden Tips) black tea brick from Guizhou, stored in my private tea chest. This particular tea, known as Kang Zhuan Jin Jian, dates back to 1988. It was primarily sold in western Sichuan and Tibet at the time, with distribution centered around Kangding and Lhasa, and eventually reaching more remote Tibetan areas. “Plans cannot compare to chance encounters,” I thought, as I spontaneously decided to take out some fragments from the tea brick and set about brewing it.

The dry Jin Jian was dark brown in color, and its coarseness and maturity were evident. A significant part of the blend consisted of Hong Tai (red stems) and tea stalks, which are tender branches near the tips of mature tea leaves. These stems, with their purplish-red outer skin, are rich in nutrients. In Jin Jian tea brick production, red stems are added in different proportions, and after the bricks are formed, they undergo prolonged fermentation. This process contributes to the tea’s slow aging, stable aroma retention, and durability in brewing. Generally, Jin Jian tea contains a higher proportion of these red stems compared to Kang Zhuan.

The dry aged tea’s aroma was subtle, but with a few quick breaths, I could discern faint medicinal and clean, minty scents. Initially, I used a coral-red gaiwan from the late Qing to early Republican period for brewing. However, the resulting tea soup had a slightly harsh, sandy texture, and the acidity was more concentrated. After a few infusions, I switched to an 80s Yixing black clay teapot from the Yixing Zisha Factory. The tea immediately transformed, becoming much smoother and more refined.