Chengdu has topped the happiest city rankings in China for years. The secret is simple: stretch out on a bamboo chair in People Park, brew a lidded bowl of tea, and clack away at a mahjong table for the day.
The gaiwan cha (lidded bowl) is the soul of a Chengdu teahouse: bowl, lid and saucer in three pieces - the lid vents heat and skims tea froth, and keeps the brew warm. A bowl costs 20-40 yuan for a whole day of free refills.
Mahjong is the national sport of Chengdu - tables fill streets, alleys, teahouses and riverbanks. Outsiders are often baffled: Chengdu plays bloody battle to the end, one suit missing, more tiles melded, and single rounds can drag on for ages.
Teahouses are social arenas: business deals, swinging dragon gates (idle gossip), and ear-cleaning - the ear-cleaner is standard teahouse staff, and a 30-yuan session is worth trying.
Beneath the ease lies a practical philosophy: work matters, but tea matters more. In Chengdu you almost never see anyone in a hurry.