ضفدع Dīngshū — zhuni

dry leaf

Before first use: pale sandy-beige, faint iron speckles, cool and slightly rough to the fingertip. The frog sits poised, throat pouch subtly inflated.

wet leaf

After a splash of hot tea: the skin darkens instantly, cracks and fine veins emerge like a waking animal. The surface holds warmth, releasing a clean, wet-stone scent.

liquor

Over sessions, the zhuni absorbs tea oils, transitioning from beige to honeyed amber then chestnut brown — the colour uneven at first, slowly becoming a glassy, living patina.

aroma

When warm, a faint mineral note — damp river rock, sun-heated clay, a ghost of the kiln. No artificial fragrance, just honest fired earth.

taste

Not a tea to sip, but the tactility matters. Run a wet fingertip across the ridged back and feel how the clay softens at the edges. Each stroke leaves a tiny tea trace that builds the record.

finish

A long, quiet rhythm — a teaspoon of rinse water, a moment of darkness, then the slow return to dry. Months later, the frog has absorbed the story of every session.