Wending begins in Xinhui, Guangdong — the home of chenpi, aged mandarin peel, prized in China for centuries. Our question was simple: what happens when the peel and the tea age together, not apart?
The answer is citrus pu'er: whole mandarins filled with Yunnan pu'er, then dried under the sun until peel and leaf become one flavour. The peel lends citrus oils and sweetness; the pu'er lends depth, earth and time.
Why 'Wending'?
The name is not a pinyin spelling. It is the journey itself. The tea gardens sit above the clouds, and the road there winds upward — through mist, along mountain passes, one turn at a time. To wend is to travel that road slowly and on purpose. Every jar of Wending tea has made that journey: from orchard to sun-drying yard to your cup.
Two places, one tea
Xinhui gives the mandarin — Erhuang, Dahonggan and Xiaoqinggan from the core groves, picked at the right hour. Yunnan gives the pu'er — raw and ripe leaves from Bulang, Banzhang, Bada and Bingdao, some of them over a decade old. Neither place alone could make this tea.
Slow by design
We dry under the sun, never in ovens. We release in small batches, and when a vintage is gone it is gone. The collection today spans 24 teas — from a $12 tasting duo to a $2,939 limited Bingdao — all made the same slow way.
