High in the mountains of China stood a tiny tea house.
An old woman named Mei served tea to travelers.
She never asked where they came from.
She only asked:
“Why are you traveling?”
Some said adventure.
Some said work.
Some said they were running away.
One winter evening, a tired traveler arrived.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” he admitted.
Mei poured him tea.
“Then perhaps you are here to rest.”
He stayed for three days.
Before leaving, he thanked her.
Years later, he returned.
The tea house was still there.
Mei was older but smiling.
The traveler sat down.
“I finally know why I traveled,” he said.
Mei poured the tea.
“And why?”
“To find a place where I could stop.”
Outside, snow quietly covered the mountain.
Inside, the tea remained warm.
