How to Make Tea in Chinese New Year

It’s Chinese New Year.
You are at home with your parents
and your boyfriend is at home with his,
having to deal with interrogations about whether

he has a girlfriend and when he’ll get married.
But you, you’ve had enough of these
apologies, excuses, lies. You’d like to put a stop
to all the acting, nonsense, once and for all.

Why not make your parents a nice cup of tea,
using their favourite blue and white porcelain pot
while they are comfortably seated
in front of the television watching

newlyweds in bright costumes hugging and kissing
each other, grandparents offering red packets
to grandchildren, eyes filled with happiness,
the kind your parents can’t have because of you.

Why not take out the best Miluochun leaves,
handpicked from the green hills of the Yangtze River Delta?
Why not use the Nongfushanquan mineral water
flowing down from the glaciers of the Himalayas?

Sprinkle the fine leaves on the bottom of the pot
and shake gently. Let the fragrance fill every inch
of the room. Pour the boiling water, 85 degrees centigrade,
and let the hot steam kiss open the shy leaves.

Cover the lid and leave it brewing for exactly 90 seconds.
Then serve the orange-coloured liquid in jade-textured teacups.
Place the cups in delicate saucers and present them with both hands,
showing care, precision and respect.

While your parents are sitting back cozily sipping the tea,
wondering why their son has changed into a different person today,
tell them slowly, calmly, Mum and Dad:
I’ve got a boyfriend.

Hongwei Bao grew up in Inner Mongolia, China, and lives in Nottingham, UK. He uses short stories, poems, and essays to explore queer desire, Asian identity, diasporic positionality, and transcultural intimacy. His debut poetry collection The Passion of the Rabbit God was published by Valley Press in 2024.