DETAILED TASTING NOTES

Warm Leaf Smell: asparagus, orchids, buttered corn
Wet Leaf Smell: garden peas, tomato stalk
Texture Feel: creamy thick, rich, coating
Taste: young courgette and asparagus, a bit of chestnuts, soybean sprouts
Finish Feel: smooth, satisfying cooling juiciness, good huigan (returning sweetness)
Empty Cup Smell: orchids
Aftertaste: green melon and alpine flowers
Body Feel: super energised, focused, excited

Category: Green Tea
Native Name: 明前永川秀芽
Harvest: 2026 late February - March
Origin: TianWang mountain, Yongchuan town, Chongqing municipality, China
Cultivar: mixed local cultivars
Altitude: 400–500m

YongChuan XiuYa (formal name of our Shy Duck) is a hyper-local tea from Chongqing, barely known outside the city, let alone outside China. We think it deserves way more attention than it gets. It won't knock you out with an aggressive aroma the way a Dragon Well would. It does however coat your mouth nicely, slowly builds complex sweet-vegetal flavour and leaves you with this flowery breath. Oh, and the body feel is buzzing, don't blame me if you drink it too late at night.

The producers themselves recommend grandpa-style brewing, and I agree. But don't be afraid to play around with brewing to see what you like.

Grandpa brewing:
80°C
3g /250ml glass
1st infusion: 90sec, next: +20sec/infusion
5 infusions
In grandpa style brewing, leave roughly half the water in the glass with the leaves before adding more water for the next infusion.
 
GongFu brewing:
80°C
3g /100ml
1st infusion: 20sec, next: +10sec/infusion
7 infusions
 
Cold brew: 
Throw 3-5g into a litre bottle with room temperature water, and let it infuse for a couple of hours, or overnight in the fridge. Enjoy throughout the day.

YongChuan XiuYa comes from Yongchuan, a district of Chongqing municipality. The market there is structured differently from most Sichuan teas: a few well-established producers supply most of the output.
 

This harvest was picked in late February and March 2026, before the QingMing festival, making it the first flush of the season. XiuYa picked before QingMing are called Mingqian and are generally considered the finest. These early teas tend to have more concentrated yet still delicate flavour. This year's harvest started particularly early, around 16 February, pushed forward by warm temperatures.
 
We tasted several producers directly in Yongchuan. Ours stood out first for quality and price, then for everything else: family-run since the late 1990s, no marketing oversell, just a zero bs talk and a good cup.
 
Their plantation and factory sit on TianWang mountain, not considered the core XiuYa production zone but one of its historic areas, without the tourism and hype that follow fashionable spots. The rows have grass growing between the bushes, scattered trees, other vegetables and plants to the side. Out of season, they let the grass grow freely, apparently up to a metre and a half. They cultivate 20–30 cultivars that blossom at different times, then blend them for consistent timing and flavour.
 
What makes YongChuan XiuYa production unusual is the kill-green (ShaQing) method: three distinct techniques on the same batch, hot air for the leaves, and a combination of steam and microwave for the tender buds. Steam is rare in Chinese green tea, far more common in Japan and Korea. Microwave fixation is essentially unique to YongChuan XiuYa. Combining all three on a single tea may sound extreme, but the results speak for themselves. Some producers are shifting to a simpler high-temperature hot-air method, but ours sticks to the classic three-way approach. Apparently high-temperature hot-air kill-green pushes hard on aroma but underperforms on taste and texture.
 
The best raw material is picked as one bud with a single just-opened leaf, shorter than the bud. Everything is hand-picked, and even where machines play a role, much relies on the master's eye, constantly reading and adjusting moisture and temperature. We were lucky to visit during the first days of harvest and watch the picking and processing of the very first leaves of the year. Walking through the factory, trichomes were everywhere, on surfaces, in the air. It was incredibly fragrant.

Most of what we sourced is the producer's own blend. We also picked up tiny batches of two distinct early-flushing cultivars: 9 Needles and Dark Needles. The difference is subtle, but if you're curious, drop a comment on your order or message us and we'll send them your way if any are left.

You may notice white or yellowish fuzz on the dry leaves, sometimes clumping into small furry balls. This is not mold. These are tea trichomes (BaiHao), naturally occurring on young buds and early spring leaves. Their presence is a good sign: it usually means you're looking at a very early harvest with a high proportion of young growth.