I grew up in Yingde, Guangzhou, where mornings begin with steam, leaf, and quiet work. My earliest memories are the warmth of the kettle and the scent of fresh tea drifting in from the fields. Tea wasn’t a product in our house; it was a rhythm—of seasons, of hands, of care.

As I learned the craft, I kept two things close: respect for tradition and a hunger to refine. Single origin matters to me because place speaks—soil, rain, and light leave their signatures in every leaf. My role is to listen to that voice and shape a roast or a fermentation that protects it, not covers it. Small batches, steady attention, and patience over shortcuts—these are the choices I stand by.

I’m proud of what we make because I know how it begins: with growers who tend the plant long before we touch it. I spend time at origin to learn, share, and bring that care forward. But the final measure is simple—what you taste in the cup. If it feels balanced, clear, and quietly memorable, then I’ve done my work.

This is the promise I make: to honour where each tea comes from, and to offer you a cup that rewards time and attention.