The true stature of a venerable tea house lies not in how high its signboard hangs, but in the generations of people standing steadfast behind it.
When speaking of venerable Pu-erh tea houses in Yunnan, one cannot bypass Yiwu; and when speaking of historic houses in Yiwu, one cannot overlook Anle Hao. Behind this name, which has stood resolute in the tea mountains of Yiwu for two centuries, lies a relay of heritage sustained across multiple generations of a single family.
The story begins during the Jiaqing reign of the Qing dynasty. Li Zupei (courtesy name Hongzong), a fourteenth-generation descendant of the Li clan, arrived in Yiwu on business. In those days, Yiwu was the beating heart of the tribute tea era—endless emerald mountain ranges, unceasing pack-horse caravans (mabang), and a flourishing tea trade. Traversing the tea mountains, Li Hongzong saw far more than a mere commercial enterprise; he witnessed a momentous epoch. The Imperial Court demanded annual tea tributes, tea merchants from all provinces gathered in droves, and Yiwu Street bustled with unprecedented prosperity. Recognising the burgeoning trajectory of the tea trade, he resolved to commit himself entirely to the craft, transforming from an itinerant merchant into a dedicated tea master.
In the fourth year of the Daoguang reign (1824), Li Hongzong relocated his entire household to Yiwu. To understand his choice, one must appreciate Yiwu’s stature at the time: it was the strategic hub of the Ancient Six Great Tea Mountains. It was from here that tribute tea embarked on its long journey to the imperial capital, and it was here that merchants from various provinces established their trading firms to purchase leaves. The words “Yiwu Street” served as the undisputed hallmark of the Pu-erh tea trade.
Upon his arrival, however, he found that Yiwu Street had already been extensively developed, leaving scarce room for expansion. Rather than jostling for space within the congested marketplace, he chose to settle five kilometres away. In that era, five kilometres meant navigating rugged mountain paths on foot for well over an hour. Undaunted, he declared an ambitious resolve: to rival Yiwu Street itself. This bold mettle was reflected directly in the name of the new settlement: “Yibi” (literally, Rivaling Yiwu). To compare oneself to Yiwu was no idle boast; it was a determination to triumph.
In the thirtieth year of Daoguang, Li Hongzong passed away, and his son, Li Kaiji, succeeded to the family enterprise. This scion of the Li family was not merely adept at tea cultivation and manufacturing, but was also a dedicated scholar. Between the twenty-fifth year of Daoguang and the fifth year of Xianfeng—spanning an entire decade—he sat for the civil examinations at the provincial and national levels. Recommended by the provincial educational commissioner, he was selected and presented to the Imperial Court as a gongshi (tribute scholar).
Regrettably, on his journey to the imperial palace, severe illness forced him to miss the final Palace Examination. A decade of arduous study had fallen short by merely a single step. Recognising his scholarly brilliance, the Imperial Court conferred upon him the imperial title of Ligong Jinshi (Tribute Scholar by Precedent), alongside the official post of Xiuzhi Zuolang (Assistant Gentleman for Cultivation).
This was by no means an empty title. As a Xiuzhi Zuolang, he formally served as a dedicated “Tea Official” responsible for supervising the procurement of imperial tribute tea—every parcel of tribute tea yielded by the Yiwu mountains required his official oversight and inspection. For a scholar from a rural mountain settlement to become an imperially appointed Tea Official was an extraordinary feat, reflecting both his disciplined household governance and professional accomplishment. By the Guangxu reign, Yibi had flourished into a prominent settlement of sixty to seventy households, standing proudly alongside Yiwu. Within the village, tea workshops and an apothecary were established—the tea house managed production, whilst the apothecary attended to community health. The village had evolved into a self-sustaining tea-industry community in miniature.
It was during this flourishing era that the Anle Hao Tea Firm was formally founded by Li Kaiji. At its zenith, the estate encompassed over three hundred mu of tea gardens, employed forty to fifty permanent labourers, and commanded an annual production and sales volume of three to four hundred dan. In the late nineteenth century, three to four hundred dan represented an immense undertaking: with each dan equalling one hundred catties, this meant managing thirty to forty thousand catties of tea annually. From hand-picking and rolling to stone-pressing and transport, every stage relied entirely on skilled manual craftsmanship. With forty to fifty permanent hands rotating through the gardens and workshops year-round, such an operation was among the most prominent throughout the Yiwu tea mountains.
From Yibi Village, the chiming bronze bells of the Ancient Tea Horse Road echoed northwards, carrying the firm’s renown towards the capital. Founded personally by an imperial Tea Official, this tea house bore royal tribute lineage from its inception: its uncompromising insistence on premium harvest and meticulous standards of craftsmanship were principles inscribed directly into the family genealogy, never mere slogans on a wooden placard.
Looking back, two generations of the Li family laid the firm’s enduring bedrock: the first established the domain, the second consolidated the enterprise. Li Hongzong possessed the foresight to settle in Yibi upon reading the historical tides; Li Kaiji commanded the scholarly discipline to attain imperial office and establish the firm. Starting from scratch in an unfamiliar land, two generations firmly anchored themselves in the tea mountains of Yiwu—laying the foundations for two centuries of Anle Hao’s living history.
Coming in Part II: Why did an imperial tribute tea lineage entrust its entire distribution network to its generational partner, Tongqing Hao? Behind Anle Hao’s half-century hiatus lies a saga of resilience amidst turbulent times.
