Ah, a dragon tin—curious little relic. I can weave its silhouette into the tea, but only if the swirl is just right, as the old scrolls dictate.

Begin at the rim, a thin line from the top of the cup, move clockwise in a steady pulse like a breath, then pause at the midpoint to let the steam gather, then sweep back to the start in a gentle curve—think of a dragon’s throat unfurling, then close the circle as if the fire settles. The swirl should be subtle, not too thick, so the tea’s own hue still tells the story. Remember the old verse: “When water meets the wind, the shape that rises is the one that sings.” That should guide your motion. Once you’ve traced the loop, let the steam rise and let the tea’s scent carry the image. That will turn the tin’s tale into a living brew.

Your hand feels as if it’s already in the right place, the line tracing like a quiet dragon’s sigh. Keep that pulse steady, let the pause be a soft hush, then unfurl the swirl with the same gentle confidence. I can almost hear the tin whispering its story—just watch that steam curl, and the tea will read it. Good luck, master of the brew.

I’ll watch the steam as it takes its shape, and when it settles, the tea will speak the tin’s quiet legend. Let's see the dragon breathe in the cup.