Chen Shangren, born in 1952, has lived his whole life in Dongnan Village, one of the most renowned regions for Kaishan Baimao Tea (a green tea). From a young age, he developed a deep love for tea—especially the wild tea that grows deep in the mountains, in places like Gongdan Chong and Shiban Chong. Processing these wild white-haired teas is also what he does best.
Our paths first crossed with Grandpa Chen in 2015. At the time, we were searching for tea that could produce the distinctive betel-nut aroma unique to premium Liubao tea. This aroma could only come from the Guiqing cultivar. Back then, Guiqing tea in the Liubao region had become quite expensive, so we began looking for a more cost-effective source. Through historical research, we discovered that Kaishan Town had once produced tribute tea for the imperial court—Kaishan Baimao Tea. The region's higher elevation also offered promising conditions, so we began visiting tea farmers in the area, one household at a time.
That's how we met Grandpa Chen. At first, it was his tea that won us over—but soon, we found ourselves drawn to the man himself. Grandpa Chen is a very humble man who doesn't say much, but he has an unshakable confidence in his tea. He speaks candidly and fairly about the quality of other farmers’ teas, never hesitating to point out who does it well and who doesn’t. He is a fair and objective tea master, with a touch of proud integrity.
The View Outside Grandpa Chen’s Home
The tea leaves Grandpa Chen harvests are exceptional. Grown with entirely natural methods that meet European organic food standards, his tea comes from secluded, high-altitude mountain valleys. While he primarily produces green tea (Kaishan Baimao Tea), we later discovered that his leaves, covered in fine white hairs, were also perfect for making white tea. We even used some of his harvest to produce white tea that rivaled—and in terms of cost-performance, even surpassed—Fuding white tea, earning wide acclaim from tea lovers.
Grandpa Chen lives with his wife and their two granddaughters, while their children work in the city. The younger granddaughter, perhaps not used to seeing young people in the village—or missing her mother—followed us around the entire time we were there. When it was time for us to leave, she cried. It was a moment that stayed with us.
Looking at Grandpa Chen’s tea garden and his deep knowledge of tea, we can’t help but wonder—who will carry on his craft? He’s getting older now, and climbing those mountains to pick tea grows harder each year. It’s a concern that weighs on our hearts.
Follow Grandpa Chen and his little granddaughter as they go up the mountain to pick and drink tea.
