In the fragrance of tea, time does not merely flow quietly—
it ferments, slowly transforming into flavor.
Like a fruit, born on a branch and ripened,
every stage of its change deserves to be savored.

Today, we are honored to welcome Dr. Yu Shun-Teh, researcher at the Institute of Ethnology, Academia Sinica—
an anthropologist who has long devoted himself to the study of history and culture.
He will guide us on a journey through the history of Taiwanese tea—
a voyage that travels from the mountains to the soil, into the cup in our hands.

The tea before us may have passed through decades of industrial transformation:
from early influences of Fujian-style teas,
to the differentiation between scented and unscented Pouchong tea;
from the rich, full-bodied aroma of traditional Oolong,
to the light, layered fragrance of today’s high mountain teas—
The flavor of Taiwanese tea is itself a story of slow fermentation…

In the 1980s and 1990s, the tea fields of Dong Ding Mountain
once relied heavily on chemical fertilizers and pesticides for higher yields.
It wasn’t until the land began to struggle
that people realized—
the quality of tea is not only about production,
but about whether the soil itself can breathe freely.

Later, tea growers in the high mountain regions learned from these lessons.
They began cultivating tea without chemical fertilizers or pesticides;
the cooler temperatures and fewer pests in these regions
made this approach especially suitable.
This allowed the mountains to regain their vitality and spirit.
Today, the fragrance of high mountain tea carries not just charm,
but also depth and soul.

A single tea leaf can tell countless stories—
of climate, of terrain, and of people.
In tune with today’s theme, “Fruits,”
we’ve also prepared a seasonal tasting:
a special dish created by Yi Wan Shí Pu,
inspired by the Japanese tradition of Hagi Mochi offerings to ancestors.
Using Tainan No. 9 and Tainan No. 17 “Tiger-striped” peanuts,
the humble nuttiness of peanuts mingles with the aroma of tea,
weaving together the gentle taste of autumn.

A cup of tea is a fruit of fermentation;
a piece of history quietly unfolds in this very moment.
With every sip of tea,
we are, in our own way, responding to the land,
to time itself,
to the mountains—
and to the farmers who, year after year,
have tended the soil with care and respect.