Last year, I visited the core villages where the small annual yield of genuine Taiping Houkui is produced, connecting with families growing and crafting the most ecologically conscientious, handmade, and delicious Houkui.

With complex layers perceptible from the brew’s rising vapors long before any cooling sips of its crisp, thick soup are taken in, this tea makes clear why authentic Taiping Houkui is considered Anhui’s answer to some of the loftier green teas further east.

猴魁 Houkui, translating to “Monkey King,” is known for its spindly, oversized leaves and signature orchid fragrance. Though often given outsized attention in modern marketing copy, the elusive 兰花香 lan hua xiang is not easily understood by many drinkers. It is a deeper, denser, sultrier floral—not ingratiating like the bright, high-pitched gardenia or jasmine notes.

For those looking to grok this cornerstone of eastern tea tasting, this tea offers opportunity: a proper lan hua xiang is essential to genuine Houkui. Expect notes of bamboo, tropical fruit, umami, and a delicate nuttiness—all well-structured in a juicy, thick broth with no astringency.

unlike most conventional greens on the market, Houkui features an intentionally large and leafy 1 bud, 2 leaf picking standard and is a 扁形绿茶 bianxing lu cha, a flattened/pressed tea

Visiting the core production villages of Yanjia, Hougang, and Houkeng, I was determined to find a minimally-mechanized, small-scale operation that checked all the boxes: seed-propagated heirloom gardens maintained as 生态 shengtai (ecological, pesticide-free) and planted with either the local landrace 土种 tuzhong or the “persimmon leaf” variety, 柿大种 shi da zhong.

That search, a longer story soon to be shared on our youtube channel, yielded an overwhelming amount of almosts—until we met the Ye family in Houkeng.

An unplanned boat ride from Houkeng’s main plaza brought us to the Ye household, their tea gardens climbing from the banks of the Machuan River up the mountainside. Mature heirloom tuzhong bushes pepper the slope at well-draining angles between 25–40°. The presence of yellow insect tape—a hallmark of no-spray ecological garden management—was a welcome sight.

In this region, the standard for premium Houkui is 半手工 banshou gong, or half-handmade: simple machinery is used, but guided closely by human hands at key steps. Remarkably, the Ye family still performs the defining 理条 li tiao shaping and straightening step almost entirely by hand. Afterward, the leaves are screen-pressed to hold their signature spear-like shape and baked three times. While most families have switched to electric ovens, the Ye family continues to fire theirs traditionally with wood.

While Sister Ye handles the business side, her husband oversees production—awards proudly displayed in the front room of their home. As we toured the gardens, reviewed production specs, and tasted tea together, everything felt aligned.

While false leads and dead ends initially haunted the monkey hunt, settling wasn’t an option. I feel privileged to have built a partnership with the Ye family—an operation that not only met every mark, but exceeded expectations. What made the search worth it is now inside the tin.

Deep History, Deep Waters

Taiping Houkui is named after its original county, Taiping. Though administrative lines have since shifted and the area now falls under Huangshan’s jurisdiction, Taiping remains the closest city to the core Houkui villages. The name 猴魁 Houkui “Monkey King” traces to local lore: some say it refers to tea pickers in the mountain's forests whose movements resembled monkeys; others tell of real monkeys, wise to the best wild tea trees and guiding villagers to them; another tale speaks of an old man who, after burying a baby monkey with reverence, found a tea tree sprouting from the grave the following spring.

Though I didn’t see any monkeys in 2025, perhaps they roamed these mountains back in the Ming Dynasty, when tea production in the region began. Even after Houkui was honored as a 贡茶 gong cha (imperial tribute tea) and earned international awards in the early 20th century, production methods continue to evolve.

Today, the tea industry reflects the rise and fall of political tides—just as the elevation of certain Fujian teas is linked to the tenure of the current general secretary Xi, who once served as the province’s governor. Already Anhui’s most coveted top-shelf tea, Taiping Houkui gained even further prestige in the early 2000s when Hu Jintao—whose ancestral home is in Huangshan—held the office of general secretary, famously gifting Taiping Houkui to world leaders and dignitaries.

Still carrying that prestige, Houkui prices are significantly higher than other regional green teas, and like other pricier status teas (e.g. Xihu Long Jing and Lao Banzhang) its price dipped due to high inventory and softened demand in China’s strained economy. This creates nearly as much risk as opportunity: a purveyor must stay vigilant to avoid shady practices expected during desperate times.  Counterfeits, fakes, and false promises are abound. Ideally, as we ride these trends, a more reasonable and consistent market stabilizes and folks can enjoy good teas through reputable sourcing channels with a bit less hype influencing the pricetag.