Wild Qi Tea Longjing

I'm trying the last of four teas shared by Shana of Wild Tea Qi, a Longjing version.  She is the official main founder of the tea group I admin for, International Tea Talk.  I have mixed feelings about trying this, on a couple of different levels, and this post may never go out [although in the end it did].  I'll go into that background first, a list of reservations.


I'm sick:  I'll not taste much of this; I'm probably at around 75% capacity for tasting, much improved from two days ago when my sense of taste was mute, from another sinus infection.  The main reason to try this tea is related, to taste it now and then again mid-week to see how different it is.  I won't get another chance to test exactly what being sick does to sense of taste, at least for a few weeks until I become ill again, the way things have been going.

Editing note:  it's a week later now that I'm publishing this, with a second tasting in the middle.  I think I've got this recovery.


It's not Spring:  people tend to prefer and review green teas in the Spring.  There is less point to mentioning them in what is about to change to be the temperate climate winter.  I'm almost not talking to an audience at this point anyway, more writing what is interesting to me, for whoever happens to also be interested to read it.

It's not late fall here in Bangkok either, it's the end of our rainy season, about to be our cool season, which are both close enough to Spring in character, I guess.  As to teas being better fresh they do seem to lose a little of the edge, less so if stored refrigerated, but people make more of the change than they need to.  Well stored green teas lose just a little freshness, which is really unfortunate, but they're far from ruined a half year or a year later on.

Other factors, not necessarily tied to reservations, just background:


It's a Yunnan origin Longjing:  that's not a reason not to review it, just relevant context.  The original, main origin for Longjing is elsewhere, and the only example I've tried from Yunnan, included as a sample along with a purchase from Yunnan Sourcing, wasn't type-typical of more standard versions.  Let's cite a less than idea but standard reference to cover what Longjing is, a Wikipedia entry citation:

...sometimes called by its literal translated name Dragon Well tea, is a variety of pan-roasted green tea from the area of Longjing Village in Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province, China. It is produced mostly by hand and renowned for its high quality, earning it the China Famous Tea title...

...There are various definitions of Longjing; however a common definition is that authentic Longjing at least has to come from the Zhejiang province in China,[4][5] with the most conservative definition restrict the type to the various villages and plantations in the West Lake area in Hangzhou.[6] It can also be defined as any tea grown within the Xihu District.[7] A large majority of Longjing tea on the market however is actually not from Hangzhou. Many of these inauthentic longjing teas are produced in provinces such as Yunnan, Guizhou, Sichuan, and Guangdong.... 

...Authentic Longjing tea tastes sweet, mellow and rounded. Some varieties are distinctly vegetal and grassy, and others carry a hint of roasted chestnut and butter.


I'll add more later about flavor and other character differences, and typical types; the point here was more to clarify that origin issue.  Any tea sold from a different area as Longjing that is clearly identified related to source location is in no sense a fake tea.  It's just not the most conventional version of this tea type, per the typical definition.  The plant type used is probably different, in addition to any other terroir issues or processing variations.

This version was still good, but it's odd discussing any difference when a type is typically associated with being very standard, in terms of aspects.  An example helps clarify what I mean.  Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong oolong (or any of those) tends to cover a narrow range of associated flavors and character, floral or else peach, as general flavors go, with the rest very familiar to a lot of people.  It's odd placing where a version stands if it is slightly off that normal scale range, even if the difference wasn't negative in any way, beyond being less typical.  What if a Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong was roasted more, in a range more typical of a Wuyi Yancha Fujian oolong, versus flavor profile differing in some other way?  That might be fine, it would just be odd placing it.  Most likely that wouldn't be an improvement, and the conventional range for a much more limited level of roast is in practice in the Guangdong province / Chaozhou area oolongs for a reason.

Here I'm talking about origin area instead, a different thing, but that will carry over to discussion of character differences as well.


Brewing using 205 F / 97 C water (package recommendation):  this is a matter of preference, right?  I've rehashed this issue so many times I'm bored of going too far with it, but there are a few sets of themes and perspectives that stand out.  The standard temperature brewing table relates mostly to Western style brewing preferences (I think; even that's an interpretation), and those tend to vary.  Another school of thought says that it's best to use boiling point water with essentially everything, and adjust intensity or astringency as necessary using timing, dropping infusion time.  Of course especially in the case of green teas those sets of ideas conflict.  Most people and vendors would recommend brewing this tea at closer to 70 C, I think.

The resolution here is clear enough; someone could try any given tea version made a few different ways, and then their own preference and opinion is the correct yardstick.  I suspect I'd like this tea best made using hot water but slightly below 97 C, down around 90, but still hot.  Then again I tend to be a bit sloppy when it comes to parameters, guessing things out, going by instinct.  Maybe I'm robbing myself of a truly optimized experience, or maybe that somehow makes more than enough sense and works well.

I might also mention seeing notice that Shana is currently running tea training courses in China this week, with more on that kind of thing here.  Use of the term "sommelier" tends to draw some heat, related to that kind of thing, since it means a different thing related to wine, and to some implies a close parallel that doesn't hold.  Using "master" in any course title would raise similar concerns, but with a more value neutral title there's nothing wrong with different training providers offering different options. 

Onto a little more background about this tea then the review:


Vendor description:

About a two hour drive from Kunming, Yunnan Province and after a three-hour hike deep into the mountains of Yiliang County we found this gorgeous hidden gem, an ancient tea tree garden hidden right in plain sight.

There were remnants of an old temple and later it was confirmed to be the famous Bao Hong Temple’s old tea garden. This ancient tea tree garden created by a monk who came down from Fujian Province in the Tang Dynasty (618-907). He brought with him tea tree seeds, which were a special small leaf variety from Fujian. During the cultural revolution, the temple was destroyed as were many holy sites.


Ok, that's more a story than a description.  I kind of like those stories.  There really is no description of the tea character there, what it tastes like and such.  In a comments section some people claim it's the best Longjing they've tried; that's promising.  Who knows what else they've tried though.  There's a video link on that page and that probably contains more discussion of how it's made and what it's like.

This tea is sold out so it may be something to think about for next Spring, but isn't available now.

Review:

Interesting guessing how much of this experience is dropping out; clearly I'm not tasting this tea normally.  It has more of a mineral / metallic edge than I think is actually present, an input from the illness.  At the same time I can still guess at what it's actually like, beyond how I'm perceiving it.

It seems to overlap with the most typical Longjing scope, the nutty / toasted rice flavor, mild sweetness, towards-vegetal but not really vegetal nature.  It's kind of a joke to break down the flavor to a list though, only a guess how accurate that would be.  It leans a little towards floral tone, with some warmth to it, a rich, fermented grain effect.  I'm not sure that extends to toasted rice but it seems to be in the ballpark.  There probably is a more pronounced mineral aspect to this than is typical, which isn't a bad thing (if it's what I'm perceiving, not an illness-oriented illusion), just unusual.


Savory character picks up in the second round, with plenty of sweetness, fresh aspect range, and good overall balance.  Not to overemphasize the point but "as far as I can tell."  This probably did move away from malted grain to closer to toasted rice, not completely unrelated flavor ranges but different.  There's a fullness to the experience, even for experiencing 3/4ths of it.  At first scent of the dry tea I was concerned this version might be too atypical, and I don't think this is completely conventional.  It works though, and the second round shifts back to closer to that.  Floral still seems a little pronounced, and a mineral undertone.  Beyond that the differences are finer than I can pick up.

Intensity might be even more pronounced in the third round; this seems kind of hard-hitting as green teas go.  I like that about Longjing, that better versions can be intense, and not vegetal, covering a complex, interesting flavor range that isn't grassy.  It will be interesting seeing how much of that mineral is actually there and how much is error input.  This actually has aftertaste experience, a significant amount of it, more than is typical for Longjing.

Of course you never really know if you've tried 10 or 20 versions of a tea type and just haven't experienced the best versions yet, or ones in that general range.  If you keep buying teas from mass-production resale budget vendors you can be assured that you never will experience that.  I don't mean Yunnan Sourcing; a category of vendors that I shouldn't name an example of since that seems rude.  Yunnan Sourcing sells so much volume of tea that you can buy good, bad, and very exceptional versions through them; it just depends.  The best of the best might tend to not come up in such an outlet but I don't think it fits to lump them in with mass-production resale sources, even if that describes their core theme well enough, the Dayi outlet scope and such.

From here I'll need to turn this over to the next tasting round.  It will be interesting checking a take on the underlying mineral, overall intensity, fermented grain versus toasted rice aspect, floral tone (pronounced, but my take on that will shift a little), aftertaste effect, and on what else I missed.  It will be odd doing a guided tasting theme informed by my own input.

I went extra long on the next brew, getting caught up in a fight between my daughter and her mother.  It's nice to have so much of flavor come through, even though it's definitely not optimized, and I never would've brewed it this strong intentionally.  Overbrewing a tea does let you determine flaws in a different way, I just don't practice that enough to be good at it, and using a standard timing and proportion approach to set a baseline would help a lot (the ISO brewing standard theme).  All the same I interpret what I'm experiencing as positive, not in the sense that the tea is good this way, but that it's not right in the right ways.  Astringency and vegetal edge pick way up but it's still clean; even minor flaws would show through as quite unpleasant aspects made this way.  The balance is all wrong, per my preference, but I interpret it as just right for a way-overbrewed version of this particular tea.

I don't think this is exactly like the better standard Longjing character but there seems to be more than enough overlap, and the shift that I'm interpreting (based on partial input) seems quite positive.  I generally felt that way about that Yunnan Sourcing version too, that it was non-standard but in a good way.  At a guess this might be better tea.  I'm basing that on the complexity and intensity more than flavor range, at this point, because the dulling of that level isn't a clear input.

Second tasting impression:

I still think I'm not 100% back to normal related to sense of taste, even though I became sick 9 days ago, and was relatively fully recovered 4 days ago.  It's taking time.  I re-tried the tea again anyway; it's best to keep this moving.

The first infusion brings up a good bit of the characteristic flavor range that is most typical of the type, a nuttiness, in the range of roasted cashew, or in other forms more like toasted rice.  It's not really vegetal or floral; some versions can drift in those directions, even though I don't see that as standard.

Throughout a second and third infusion other aspect range ramped up a lot.  There's a much stronger underlying mineral tone and aftertaste based sweetness in this tea than is typical of any green tea, never mind standard Longjing version.  Both are characteristic of sheng pu'er, but the context of the other aspects is completely different in this.  It's not bitter though, the feel is different, and it lacks dominant floral range, although a bit picks up after the initial rounds.

Intensity level is unusual, related to flavor range, sweetness in general, and especially sweetness of aftertaste.  I wondered if that couldn't somehow tie to a carried-over error in my sense of taste, versus being how this tea really is.  I'm not tasting it in the other teas I'm drinking day to day but it's so pronounced in this that it's unusual.

Conclusions

It didn't completely match that standard Longjing profile, past the initial infusion impression, and not completely in that too.  The main flavor aspect associated with Longjing was present in that round, but additional sweetness and mineral undertone filled in later.  In a sense it was either a neutral or positive difference tied to that standard expectation; this is one of the most intense green teas I've ever tried.  The flavors are quite clean (I think), and overall intensity is off the scale, especially related to sweetness and aftertaste effect. 

I'm surprised that my impression was as close as it was when trying the tea sick versus mostly recovered.  Some detail had definitely dropped out the first time but the general impression was quite similar.

One criticism might relate to someone seeing that as lacking balance; teas in general just aren't this intense or sweet, except for some young sheng pu'er.  It's easy to counter that by using short infusion times but the sweetness is still really dominant.  I've never blamed a tea version for being too sweet in a review, and I don't intend this as doing that, the idea here is to be clear that it's just past the typical maximum for such a scale.

I can relate to why some people claimed that it's the best green tea they've ever tried in those comments.  Longjing is my favorite green tea, so that I typically buy some every Spring, and if one can divorce themselves of the expectation of a version being absolutely standard this is as good as it tends to get.  To me that's a part of the experience of Longjing though, that for this particular tea type the best case is the closest match to that ideal.

The Yunnan Sourcing version I tried not so long ago varied from standard form in some related ways (also a Yunnan origin version).  It swapped in a touch of savory aspect, and was also floral and sweet, just not this sweet, and also wasn't completely typical of Longjing.  It probably wasn't quite this good, even though that is a judgment call, tied more to subjective preference than a quality level distinction, without a standard form expectation to ground that.  It definitely wasn't this intense; no green teas ever are, except for Japanese green versions.

This works for me.  Since it lacks grassiness or other vegetal quality, tasting nothing like spinach or seaweed, the aspects I like least in green teas aren't carried over.  It probably does express some umami; that kind of judgment would be clearer tasting this with a more grounded palate, one completely unaffected by illness.  That I don't mind though.

I tasted another unusual character green tea recently, a Thai steamed version that I've just made notes for.  Again I was surprised by how sweet that tea was, and how it expressed a flavor profile I've never experienced in a green tea, not grassy or vegetal at all.  I might have to go back on saying I like green teas least of all the categories if these exceptional versions keep turning up.

I'll keep buying a Longjing version every Spring either way.  This one was among the best I've tried, just not exactly conventional in profile, which for some would be an improvement, and for others it could be a deal-breaker.

Happy, a local kitten I've become attached to

Wild Tea Qi Wuyi Yancha and Kokang Myanmar oolong

This runs long.  I tried the Wild Tea Qi Wuyi Yancha oolong, and made review notes, but there just didn't seem to be enough story there.  It's ok, maybe quite good but not great, or that final judgement on my part could relate most to preference for style.  I really liked their Yunnan black tea version (Dian Hong), and a Moonlight White, and to me it wasn't as interesting, positive, and distinctive as those.  I went back and forth on whether to even publish that, since I typically won't mention a tea I don't like, but in some cases versions being closer to ordinary isn't much to talk about either.

Then I also had a Myanmar Kokang oolong I've been meaning to try, so I did a second tasting adding that, and adding a Wuyi Origin Rou Gui for comparison, making that a three-way tasting session.  It's not fair tasting together with that particular Rou Gui version, any oolong of similar type, because it's my overall favorite Wuyi Yancha example.  It still does work as a baseline, just more as a potential end-point than standard type metric.  Altogether it's not a story about a single, exceptional, distinctive tea version, but it covers a lot of what different related oolongs are all about, even spanning versions from two countries.

This starts with the first tasting, only the Wild Tea Qi version, cut down a bit so it doesn't run too long.  The page for that tea version is here:  

Handpicked at over 4,500 feet high in the rich volcanic soils of the Wuyi Mountains, this tea is COFCC Certified Organic. It's a pure wild tea with tender and thick long-shaped smooth brown and green tea leaves, with dark red edges. This is a rare, special Da Hong Pao (Big Red Robe), with a unique rock aroma unlike any other. You feel it mellow, smooth, round and somewhat complicated with various tastes blended. You'll be further overwhelmed by its fragrance! Rich, lingering fully around your nose and mouth, a special "rock aroma"!

Wuyi Mountain Farmers Collective This is an incredible farmer’s collective deep in the mountains of Wuyi Shan(Wuyi Mountain). The farmer’s livelihood comes from Wuyi Oolong and Wuyi Black teas. This is a rare village wherein the profits are divided equally amongst the group, which is truly “fair trade.”

their website says more about those traditional Chinese themes (qi, fire / earth / air types)

It gets a little strange explaining to what extent that really is versus isn't Da Hong Pao, but I'll go there (with a whole post on that theme here).  The two modern cultivars closest to those original plants are Bei Dou and Rou Gui.  If a tea version really is one of those it typically gets described as such, versus being called Da Hong Pao, which is now more frequently used as a name for blends.  Marketing content tends to never say that though; funny how that works out.  Wuyi Origin's site is an exception; here they list a "blended Da Hong Pao" version which is exactly that, a mix of types.  

I'll say more about strengths and weaknesses related to both themes in the review comments, but it's what you'd expect; you give up distinctiveness in moving away from a narrow source type, and can achieve a much better character balance even from less balanced tea inputs.  Or cover up significant quality flaws in source inputs, which is where the theme shifts a bit, since mixing can offset gaps, but can only go so far in covering over negative aspects.

These groups of plant types can vary in genetic background, so it's possible that a farmer may not have a clear category name to assign to one, and they really could understand a tea plant type to be quite similar to earlier Da Hong Pao (perhaps when no one really knows what it is).  As I tend to often comment about sheng pu'er source-plant age claims at some point it's as well to evaluate a tea based on how it is, and take the stories and background with a grain of salt. 

Review (Wild Tea Qi version):

It's what one would expect for an above average version of Da Hong Pao.  Maybe not specifically a Bei Dou or Qi Dan, but I can't really claim to have those cultivar types completely down, since I've only tried a few examples of each.  If I'm remembering right--and if extrapolating from a limited sample set makes sense, which it really doesn't--both are relatively aromatic, lighter and inclined towards a light floral or liqueur like aspect, with plenty of mineral base.  But take all that with a grain of salt too; after someone tries a lot of versions only then they can accurately discuss generalities.  I'll just stick to describing this version anyway.

This has a lot of that dark caramel flavor medium roasted versions have.  It might even be from last year, since per my understanding that allows a producer to use a higher roast level to get a lot of complexity then settle the char effect back out.  It probably is, not based on judging the character, but just related to the roasting process taking time after an initial Spring harvest, and related to getting these samples awhile ago.  

This doesn't taste like char, a slight carbon flavor that comes along with upper-medium or heavy roast level.  Sweetness is good, and it's relatively complex and clean.  There's just a hint of the cardboard box flavor range that marks more average versions, but this is really better than that level.  It's probably better to let it develop a few rounds before making an final conclusions though.

There isn't really any one narrow set of markers or quality indicators for this type.  Flavor matters, feel should be thick, and aftertaste is less of a concern than for lighter oolongs and sheng, but vanishing after you drink it isn't a good sign.  Level of roast is an issue; that goes along with flavor.  Some better versions have a cool liqueur-like quality, almost like perfume, which can be towards floral range or else tipped a little towards brandy instead (just more about how an impression comes across, not matching the taste).  It's not a bad thing if versions include some fruit flavor, and floral variation is normal.  For Rui Gui a "dark" or slightly earthy version of cinnamon is normal, and Shui Xian covers broad range, with other types falling across a broad scale.  

The effect of the roast changes over the second infusion, as does the flavor profile.  That touch of cardboard transitioned towards dark wood and cinnamon; it's better.  Char still isn't noticeable, although there's just a trace of it, but this flavor profile is heavy enough that it's not remotely close to a light roast.  That balance is good, to draw this much heavier flavor out of it without drifting into a char effect.  The cinnamon is similar to the version in Rou Gui; this could be Rou Gui.  Sometimes that can completely dominate the flavor of a Rou Gui version, or it can integrate, or in some cases those are fruity.  The balance of this is nice, the way the aspects all fall together.  It could be a little thicker but Wuyi Yancha aren't usually as viscous as some other oolong types.

I'm going with around 5 second infusion times, related to using a relatively high proportion of tea.  This would be fine using 3 or 4 second infusion times; the proportion is that high, and the tea is intense.  To me this is close enough to an optimum.  I'll probably add more time after another 2 infusions or so, depending on how those work out.

(Third infusion):  It's not so far off where it was the last round, shifted just a little in proportion.  It still has a mild earthiness standing out, with a dark cinnamon like flavor and dark wood.  Related to the "rock" part in rock oolong warm mineral tones are filling in as a base for this.  It could stand out more since the hint of char and other flavor complexity is more dominant.  

This is definitely an above average quality version of this general type of oolong, but it could be more distinctive in flavor scope.  Blending balances out character in teas at the cost of giving up specific aspect range, a distinctiveness related to expressing less scope, and this does cover a bit of range.  A single type of tea can still cover a lot of range, be complex, and balance on their own but individual aspects still stand out more.  [To be clear these notes were made prior to checking what it is, with the original source description not making mention of any blending].

(Fourth infusion):  Roast effect bumps up along with that; using longer times may draw more of that out.  In this case that pairs really well with the dark cinnamon effect, so to me it works.  At some level heavy roast is used to cover flaws in Wuyi Yancha versions, and to get mixed types to balance together better, but this is made a bit more carefully than that, more along the lines of optimized, but still at an upper medium roast level.  

The limitation isn't in the aspects, it's in what isn't expressed, if someone would have a preference for a different style instead.  Per my preference the roast level could be lower (or higher, per someone else's, but to me any higher I'd see as a limitation, or even flaw).

(Fifth infusion):  this is holding up well, a good sign.  If anything the balance may be improving; it may be gaining more subtlety and range, with earthiness dropping off, warmer mineral tones picking up, and a pleasant thick feel also increasing.  Brewing a lot of positive infusions or transitioning positively aren't necessarily clear quality markers, in the sense that these would really closely tie to how good a tea of this type is, but they are positive enough to support that.  Since it's not all that different I'll try one more round and leave off taking notes, now up to letting this brew around 15 seconds.

(Sixth infusion):  this has turned a corner for fading, with char picking back up for the longer time drawing it out.  Since cinnamon diminished a bit prior that leaves only less subtle flavors balancing against it, or not really balancing as well.  Char will define the taste experience from here on out.  

Second tasting, comparing Wild Tea Qi oolong, Wuyi Origin, and Myanmar Kokang oolong

Wuyi Origin lower left, Wild Tea Qi top, Kokang Myanmar oolong right

The color difference alone is interesting in these; the Wuyi Origin Rou Gui is much lighter, certainly not as roasted, with the Wild Tea Qi a good bit darker than the other two.

Wuyi Origin left, Wild Tea Qi middle, Kokang right (in all pictures)

Wuyi Origin (fruit style Rou Gui):  as I said it really isn't fair comparing any other Wuyi Yancha version to this one.  It's my personal favorite, and a very highly regarded tea version (local Wuyishan competition award winning, or at least a similar version was).  It's refined, complex, and incredibly well balanced, with positive aspects that just keep going on.  It tastes like peach; somehow some versions taste a lot like the characteristic earthy cinnamon and some don't.  

That pronounced fruit balances really nicely with a medium level toffee sweetness, on a base of mild but complex mineral tones.  Roast is what I'd consider to be lower medium level.  I'd consider the Wild Tea Qi version to be upper-medium roast level, but that's only because so many oolongs in that category are just plain burnt, setting up tea leaf cinders as their own roast level.  

Wuyi Origin makes both, cinnamon heavy Rou Gui and this fruitier version.  I think the difference is in plant types, with growing conditions also factoring in, and of course processing, but I've not had those sorts of discussions with Cindy for awhile.  There's that part to consider too; I'm not impartial when it comes to their teas.  When we talk online it's not mostly about tea, more about how our kids are doing, and life in general.  This tea version is from 2018, one Cindy sent just to share some.  Even though I'm not claiming to be impartial you go to any tea group and search "Wuyi Origin" and other takes will echo mine though.

one of my favorite tea pictures; Cindy out among some bushes

I suppose I should mention that I helped Shana Zhang, an owner of Wild Qi Tea, start the International Tea Talk Facebook group years ago, still one of places I'm most active online related to tea.  I really like her; she's kind of trippy and idealistic in interesting and positive ways, all about ancient Chinese traditions and being one with nature.  

credit Shana's FB page (which mentions another book coming out soon)

Wild Tea Qi:  this wasn't nearly as pleasant during the first infusion trying it the first time and that comes up again; it tastes a bit like cardboard, with woody range beyond that.  It's as well to say more on the next infusion, once the first round rinses that flavor into a more promising range, if the last brewing pattern holds, and it really should.

Kokang Myanmar Oolong:  it's not fair trying this oolong along with one of the best versions of a comparable style I've ever tried and one that's good but just not on that level.  It's woody; wood spans a range of aspect character in this, cured hardwood, with a touch of greener wood, and a heavier note of fermented tree bark.  At least it's complex.  It will probably show better character on the next round too, or there won't be much point in comparison tasting it.  Brewing this quite lightly (these brewed for approaching 10 seconds, adding a few seconds to wet them initially) it might do better.  The sweetness level isn't bad, and it's not as muddled / earthy / "off" as it might sound in that description, it's just not expressing as much positive range either.

Oolongs from non-oolong producing areas often tend to miss the general range for style.  Sometimes they can strike a really positive balance even for doing that, if a producer can adjust inputs to get to non-standard but interesting and positive results.  Again I'll withhold judgment and see if a fast-brewed round works better for this.

Second infusion:

Wuyi Origin:  as tends to happen flavor intensity has dropped off a little (aroma, if you like to use that concept as a description), with "taste" or depth of the experience picking up since this was made (a year and a half ago).  If the roast level was higher giving it that rest time would be ideal; roasted this lightly it probably would have been slightly better one year ago.  Or maybe that would be a matter of preference, and the tea would have just changed character slightly instead of getting better or worse.  Either way it's still great.

Wild Tea Qi:  this is much improved.  Brewing it faster and letting the initial rough edges transition changed a lot.  It still tastes woody, but cardboard has almost entirely faded, and cinnamon spice is picking up.  This needs to be brewed lightly; that level of roast and overall intensity requires it.  There's an inky quality to the flavor, as actual pen ink smells, a tie-in to a form of mineral.  In the Wuyi Origin version mineral was present as a smooth, light base but in this case it's a main taste instead.  There's char too; not a lot of it, but enough that someone opposed to that taste would hate it (or on the other side moderate enough that someone with preference for a lot of that could be disappointed).  

The balance is fine; it works.  It still seems likely to be a blended tea, that it probably used mixing of types to get to this balance, or variation in more wild-grown plant material would accomplish essentially the same thing in a different way.  It's much more straightforward than the Wuyi Origin version, not "sophisticated" and subtle, but for being in a different style that's fine.

Kokang Myanmar oolong:  it's working better.  It's also still mainly woody; not the most promising range or aspects balance outcome.  Fermented tree bark has pulled back; this is a cleaner mix of aged wood, normal cured wood, and some green wood input.  Beyond the flavor the character isn't bad; it can be hard to appreciate that.  The astringency / feel is in the right range, as the level of sweetness is, and the thickness of feel and aftertaste is positive.  

This just may not be suitable leaf type to make oolong; it might be that continuing on with oxidation and making it into black tea could lead into sweeter, different flavor range.  I'm not the right person to even guess about that, just throwing it out there.  If someone had never drank above average Wuyi Yancha, if the cardboard and woody aspects still seemed normal to them, this might seem fine, a decent example.

Third infusion:

Wuyi Origin:  the flavor range might be deepening a bit, trading out some fruit for more toffee and light, balanced mineral range.  There is a liqueur like quality to this feel and aroma character, a thickness that seems to pair with an unusual type of complexity in the flavor range.  Overall effect is clean; there isn't a single trace of aspect out of place, no hint of muddled earthiness or char.  The aftertaste is wonderful, the way those flavors taper off as layers.  Again it's just not fair comparing other oolongs to this.

Wild Tea Qi:  this version compares better than it has in any other round.  If someone strongly preferred this flavor range (a bit inky, as mineral go, with some cinnamon, and dark-wood range) I suppose they could like it even better than the first version.  They're just quite different things.  It covers a lot more aspect range, and heavier roasting shifts the final effect.  Char isn't problematic in this round; it's softened, and you can pick it up, but cinnamon is just as heavy.  It's probably an above average Wuyi Yancha version, related to trying random types, or definitely better than you'd find in a local shop that doesn't have sourcing down to the same level.  To me it's not quite on the same level as the Wuyi Origin tea, but to some extent they're just different things.

Kokang Oolong:  this is the best it has been too; nice to see.  Wood is giving way a little to other complexity.  It's still so woody that it's hard to say what, necessarily, but that range has cleaned up and narrowed down to be much more positive.  I guess it's drawing closer to spice, or at a minimum shifting over to include forest floor (right, not a dramatic shift).  

If this were a bit more muddled in effect it would be really bad, adding just a touch of sourness or mushroom, for example.  As mentioned in the last round it being clean and balanced across all the range beyond flavor saves it.  It's not a tea that I'd want to drink regularly but it's not bad tea.  It's probably as close to black tea character as to oolong, to be honest.  It doesn't have the astringency edge but the earthiness and other flavor range is closer to black teas than to almost any oolongs.

Wuyi Origin left, Wild Tea Qi top, Kokang Myanmar oolong right

There's at least a chance this wasn't roasted at all.  The other two versions are much darker in color, even though the Wuyi Origin Rou Gui is relatively light in terms of roast effect (probably lower-medium as they see that scale though; Wuyi Yancha oolongs can be quite light in style).  If this is well above average for standard oolong oxidation level and not roasted at all then of course the results would be atypical, related to Fujian Wuyishan oolongs.  I can't imagine that any heating step is going to remove the woody flavor range, and swap that out for something else, but then me saying anything at all about processing is already going a bit far.

Conclusions:

It's hard to be clear on how well I'm factoring back out personal preference for style.  I can appreciate blended Wuyi Yancha versions (not that this Wild Qi Tea version is one, the style just overlaps with that normal outcome), but they're not a personal favorite.  It might well be an acquired bias.  It's normal enough to see ever-narrower input and type selection as better in modern tea circles.  Blending has a place too though, and there are strengths to that approach, and output character.  Not just covering up flaws in inputs, I mean.  You can get a broader range of aspects that way, and arrive at a more carefully controlled balance of them.

I like lighter roasts too; that would factor in.  The general ideal is that whatever level of roast suits that initial attribute set is best, not that lower or medium is objectively better, but preferences for type and character are what they are.  It might seem like I just spent two review sessions worth of comments explaining how I saw this Wild Tea Qi oolong as good but not great, then walked back my reason for concluding that.  The point here is that "not as good as it could be" related in part to preference for style.  

I'm not sure that it makes any sense to remove preference entirely and try to place a tea on some sort of an objective scale.  For narrowing down a type to a specific form that could work better (eg. as a light-medium roasted, fruity versus cinnamon style Rou Gui).  I kind of kept concluding that "it's a blend," but I hope that framing for that take was clear enough too.  It covered more aspect range than very narrow Wuyi Yancha source-input types tend to; how or why that occurred I don't really know.  Normally that happens because input plant types were mixed.  Using plants growing under slightly different conditions (eg. on a hillside, or a flat section near it), or of different ages, or from slightly different genetic material (naturally inter-bred) could seemingly lead to a similar outcome. 

The Myanmar oolong it's hard to be as positive about.  If they keep adjusting production process variables maybe they'll get there, or else maybe this should just be made into black tea instead.  Their sheng pu'er is definitely from further along that type of learning curve; it's pretty good by Yunnan standards (of course with "pretty good" too vague to be meaningful).  I still have a black tea from them to get to but since I've tried it in that expo tasting session I know what it's like; good but not great.  It might make for a rare case of trying something unusual and somewhat positive that still doesn't lead to a story worth telling.