Mei Yang

Mei Yang’s relationship with tea began not in a classroom but on a steep, fog-shrouded slope of Fènghuáng Shān (凤凰山) — Phoenix Mountain — in eastern Guangdong. In 2014, she spent her first winter there apprenticing under Mr. Chen Yousheng, a fourth-generation charcoal-roaster from the Wudong village. That winter, she learned to read the subtle shifts in colour and aroma as raw máochá leaves turned glossy over lychee-wood coals. She has returned for the November–December roasting season every year since, and today her understanding of single-trunk dān cōng (单丛) oolong is what clients come to tea.services to access directly.

Her signature Phoenix dancong masterclass walks guests through the entire arc of a dancong — from crushing the dry leaf between thumb and forefinger to release the honey-orchid fragrance, through seven successive infusions in a gàiwǎn, to the cool, mineral finish on the breath. In a typical session, she will set out five distinct cultivars side by side: Mì Lán Xiāng (蜜兰香) with its warm apricot jam mid-palate, Yā Shī Xiāng (鸭屎香) with a startling floral lift that means “duck-shit aroma” only in name, and a heavily roasted Lǎo Cōng (老丛) from old trees that leaves a trace of dark caramel on the tongue. The liquor moves from pale champagne gold in the first steep to a deep amber by the fifth. Each infusion reveals a new layer of the mountain — damp stone, wildflowers, the faint smoke of the roast. Guests leave with the vocabulary to describe a dancong’s structure and the confidence to brew it at home.

Her work extends beyond dancong. Mei also teaches the “Single-Trunk Oolongs” module on tea.school, a four-week course that covers Chaozhou gongfu cha technique, the taxonomy of Fenghuang cultivars, and comparative tastings with Wuyi yancha and Anxi tieguanyin. The course draws students who first encountered her through her cupping notes on puerh.app — she contributes a quarterly vertical tasting of aged shēng pǔ’ěr from Lincang, a practice that sharpens her palate for the way time and oxidation layer sweetness into leaf.

Black tea is the second pillar of her expertise. She sources Lapsang (正山小种) from a small communal workshop in Tongmu village that still smokes leaves over pine in the traditional way, and she works closely with the Jiang family, whose unsmoked Jīn Jùn Méi (金骏眉) from the Wuyi core area is a study in pure malt and cacao. In her black tea sessions — often woven into the private ceremony she offers as a host for events — the dry leaf of a spring-picked Jīn Jùn Méi looks like fine black wire tipped with gold. The first wash brings out baked apple and a creamy mouthfeel that surprises those who expect the astringency of everyday black tea.

Her second bookable service, Tea ceremony — host hire for events, brings the quiet precision of Chaozhou gongfu cha into a living room, a gallery opening, or a small wedding reception. Mei arrives with her own chá bàn (tea tray), a selection of five or six oolongs from her current winter roast, and enough porcelain to serve up to eight guests in a seated arrangement. The ceremony runs two hours and can be adapted to a specific theme — a flight of Mì Lán Xiāng variations, a side-by-side of young and aged dān cōng, or a deep dive into the roast spectrum from green to full charcoal. She encourages questions throughout; for many hosts, the highlight is watching their guests taste the same leaf across its entire lifespan and realise that Chinese tea is not a beverage but a conversation.

Mei’s winter return to Fenghuang is not a retreat — it is her laboratory. In November 2023, she spent three days in the roast house with Master Chen tasting the final batch of a new Xìngrén Xiāng (杏仁香) lot, adjusting the temperature curve to bring forward its almond-butter finish without losing the high floral notes. That lot is now part of the dancong masterclass flight, a direct line from the mountain to the cup. Her ability to hold the whole chain — plant, picker, roaster, brewer — in her hands and then pass it along without pretence is what sets her sessions apart. There is no ceremony without the leaf, and no leaf without the person who tends the coals. That is the truth Mei Yang offers every time she sets the kettle to boil.