The true color of purple clay is agreeable, flexible and adaptable. When facing a purple clay Teapot, it's a case of “the shallow will gain its shallowness, the deep will gain its depth.” It stands there, neither humble nor arrogant, calmly and quietly. When it meets a person, rather than you looking at it, it could be said that it is looking at you, or perhaps others see you through it. When facing purple clay, please choose your words carefully, like a suspect before the police, “you have the right to remain silent,” but every word you say often reveals what kind of person you are.

Those who have no interest in purple clay or do not seek to understand it can simply treat it as a vessel for drinking Tea. There is nothing wrong with this – seeing mountains as mountains and water as water. Although this might be simplistic, it does not prevent one from enjoying the richly fragrant tea that is free of cooked flavor. For those with a higher level of cultural appreciation and knowledge of the art of purple clay, they can taste the variety in shapes and forms, observe the subtle textures, lustrous colors, and profound meanings in a Purple Clay Teapot… At this point, mountains are no longer just mountains, and water is no longer just water. At the highest level (which I can only remotely imagine), it becomes even more different, as if the vast universe is contained within a single teapot, using purple clay to encompass the myriad world.

No matter how vivid and varied the purple clay is, no matter how many transformations it undergoes, it remains a teapot. You can be without thought or memory, treating it merely as a teapot, interacting with it daily, picking it up casually, pouring tea out effortlessly. At this stage, mountains are mountains, water is water, and the teapot is again just a teapot.

What one sees in a teapot often depends on the person. How deeply one perceives it truly reflects the level of one's own understanding. However, regardless of the level, purple clay can coexist with you harmoniously, in perfect accord. A purple clay teapot has a calmness that accepts whatever comes its way and a grandeur that remains unperturbed by praise or criticism.

I adore a line from Su Dongpo's poem: “The milk cup is ten-tenths full, the human world is truly confined.” “Milk cup” refers to the vessel for tea. These two lines can be interpreted as: The tea in the cup can be filled to the brim, while life in the world has various shortcomings and cannot be so complete. Or: The small cup full of tea is vast, while the world outside the cup is confined and cramped. When appreciating a purple clay teapot with both spirit and style, one cannot help but alter Su Dongpo's verse to: The purple clay is ten-tenths full, the human world is truly confined. Indeed, compared to the vast universe within a purple clay teapot, the human world is indeed confined. Compared to the tranquility of the purple clay as it transcends time, human life is fleeting like a sigh. One could also say, the human world is truly confined, the purple clay is ten-tenths full. Precisely because the human world has too many imperfections, we need the completeness of the purple clay; precisely because the human world has too much constraint, we need the ease, self-composure, and great freedom of the purple clay…

In life, we may need to tolerate and compromise, but when facing purple clay, we can indulge our perfectionist dreams and even the obsessive demands: shape, clay quality, craftsmanship. Form, spirit, and essence. If we speak of the power of tradition, let us see how much of Xiao's rules and Cao's practices have been passed down? If we discuss originality, then let us see how much innovation has been achieved? Does it convey the potter's temperament? Does it possess unique charm and spirit? How many years have passed since then? Even its subsequent fate – has it remained faithful to one type of tea like guarding a belief? Has it lost all fire and been imbued with water? Has the tea aroma permeated the body of the pot, fully occupying its soul?

Through observation, touch, and contemplation, the joy brought by an exquisite purple clay teapot is a momentary compensation for the imperfect and unsatisfactory nature of life. That peculiar sense of space and time, where one holds a teapot, not knowing where one is or what era it is, is a brief handshake with eternity in this fleeting life. Such a silent handshake is warm, bleak, and rare, and therefore – unforgettable.

Perhaps, the reason why people find it difficult to part with purple clay Teapots ultimately lies here. This charm is shared by many forms of art.