A slab from the edge of Kunming
Sandry Law found this slab in a third-generation workshop on the eastern outskirts of Kunming, where elm (yú mù, 榆木) has been cured for tea furniture for over a century. The tree was felled twenty kilometres north of the city, on a south‑facing slope that gave it a dense, stable grain. After three years of air‑drying under the Yunnan sun, the plank was kiln‑finished to a moisture content that tolerates the driest heated room or the most humid chá‑shì. The workshop’s master planed the surface by hand, following the natural taper of the live edge — no straight‑line rip‑cuts, only careful, respectful reduction. Two perpendicular crossbars are joined with blind mortise‑and‑tenon work, just as his grandfather taught, and capped with solid brass feet to protect floors and lift the table a perfect 22 cm from the ground, ideal for kneeling gōngfu sessions. Hidden within the thickest section are two brass drainage channels that funnel rinse water to a removable catch basin below — invisible from the top yet effortless to clean. When Sandry first tested the prototype with a 200ml gaiwan rinse, the water disappeared in seconds, and the tabletop remained dry and cool. That moment confirmed the table’s purpose: a quiet, enduring partner for the daily ceremony.