Mayumi approached with a tray of tea as Shan sat contemplatively in the courtyard. During the sessions when Satchiko was made to practice her calligraphy, endlessly copying characters, the scholar was afforded rare moments of quiet reflection. Yet even in these silences, the painfully slow progress in the pupil's Earthbending weighed heavily on his mind.
"Some oolong?" Mayumi inquired, receiving a measured nod from Shan, whose gaze remained fixed on the courtyard's expanse. Trust, once frayed by Mayumi's personal meeting with Te Gaogui, would not easily be restored. Achieving reconciliation would be painstakingly slow.
"Your sister advances, but only in the realm of brush and ink," Shan remarked, his tone tinged with less enthusiasm than usual. Earthbending stubbornly refused to yield any sign of mastery. Shan's teaching, strict and orthodox, relied upon meticulously structured scrolls that outlined even the most rudimentary forms. One exercise called for lifting earth from the ground into a sphere and propelling it toward a target. A perfectionist by nature, Shan felt no fear that Satchiko might scar the courtyard lawn, but she could barely raise even a pebble from the earth. Her projectiles were limited to tiny stones, even the grass itself remained unthreatened.
Yet for a scholar of Zhuangyuan rank, the stakes extended beyond a mere garden. Failure to cultivate a competent student would reflect poorly on his pedagogical skill, undermining his standing within the literati. In a society that prized scholarly decorum, a member of the elite had to demonstrate both mastery of the classics and impeccable social conduct. By accepting Satchiko, Shan walked a delicate line. The Upper Ring nobility thrived on rumor, and the White Scholar's hard-won reputation would quickly wither under careless scrutiny.
"That will suffice for today," Shan said to the pupil in the courtyard, his voice measured and nonchalant as usual. "Your calligraphy shows promise, but you must also revisit the Earthbending scrolls I have provided."
Satchiko bowed respectfully and departed through the front gate. Today's progress was not dismal, yet it fell far short of Shan's expectations. He masked any disappointment with flawless composure, though inwardly he may have wondered if he might have reconsidered the arrangement had he foreseen such a stubborn obstacle.
Mayumi returned to clear the tray. Since receiving the exquisite inkstone from the Te clan, Shan had yet to use it, wary of her tenuous connection to Te Gaogui. Her minor role in the affair had already come to light, and his trust remained carefully measured. The ink is now stored in a simple clay bowl, a silent admonition for overstepping her station.
"Your tea, prepared exactly as requested," Mayumi emphasized, presenting a tray of carefully brewed oolong. Today, every detail of the preparation from the timing of the kettle and the precise quantity of water had been specified, leaving no room for deviation. It was a subtle reminder to perform one's duties without fault.
As was customary, Shan poured his own cup, today into a new silver vessel. After a sip, his expression betrayed no warmth or indulgence. Doubt lingered, gnawing at his ability to trust even the most basic intentions of the swordswoman.
"Perhaps we dispense with formalities," he said. "Explain your connection to Lady Te."
With little room to maneuver, Mayumi kept her explanation concise. To her knowledge, no edict in Ba Sing Se forbade a person of her standing from meeting Lady Te. She spoke of Te Gaogui's generosity, as well as her own role in securing the heiress's favor through unorthodox means. After all, there are other, less peculiar methods to safeguard Zigan's interests. Obviously, no words were conveyed that both Mayumi and Satchiko are Kyoshi Warriors who weren't using their real names here.
"Yours truly concurs that the practice of political marriages ill befits Lady Te's remarkable talent," Shan said, both of them acknowledging that the heiress could achieve far more if Zigan were not in such a precarious state.
Cautious with her words, Mayumi suggested Shan consider why Han Fei might entertain Lord Te's wish to betroth the heiress to the esteemed Zhuangyuan. Surely, she implied, merit should outweigh the shallow calculations of patrimonial expedience.
"Your lack of familiarity with the intricate, yet often superficial, nature of patrimonial entities is no cause for shame," Shan replied. "Many still cling to these outdated pretenses, which continue to plague the realm at large."
He opened his paper fan and strolled to a towering stack of books in the courtyard. Without glancing, his spare hand extracted a single text with such precision that the remaining pile remained unruffled. The feat prompted Mayumi to rub her eyes, incredulous at the scholar's effortless dexterity.
The document before them was no ordinary text. It was a geography book, penned by an Earth Sage renowned for his mastery of geomancy rather than pedantic moralities. With deliberate familiarity, the scholar opened it to a specific page, laying it flat upon the stone table in the courtyard. He turned to Mayumi, revealing a detailed account of a particular region of the continent.
"The land of Zigan is exceptional," he began. "Takeko, tell me what soldiers require above all?"
"Food," she answered, unsure where his lesson would lead.
"Precisely. Even the mightiest army is powerless without sustenance. This is why the restless warlords beyond our walls are always keen to secure a reliable source of provisions for their forces."
He then explained that agricultural output varied widely across the Earth Kingdom. Some states are small yet are rich and fertile, yielding abundance. Others are large but they are barren are plagued by scarcity. Ba Sing Se's supremacy over the smaller states in the north of this warring realm stemmed not merely from its walls or famous generals, but from the vastness of its farmlands to field immense armies and construct extensive infrastructure. For the warlords, options are constrained.
Shan picked up a brush and sketched swiftly upon the page, a small county encircled by three powerful states. "Zigan is hemmed in by three formidable neighbors, the northern one being the strongest. Despite Lord Te's notorious arrogance, yours truly can at least grant him a sliver of respect as he has at least preserve the tiny domain from conquest so far."
Te Laoye, though a bitter old man who had once contested Shan's Keju results, is not entirely incompetent. Yet his rigid traditionalism left him vulnerable to exploitation, especially by those who only pretends to adhere to those ancient rites and principles.
"Zigan differs from its neighbors," Shan continued, his brush tracing the contours of the map. "Its soil is fertile, its people numerous, educated, and industrious. Under capable leadership, even a small land can sustain a thriving population. Vital reforms enacted by the former governor, Te Sihung, transformed a once insignificant village into a flourishing county. Agricultural productivity spurred rapid population growth, and its institutions, schools, artisan guilds, public works, rival even Ba Sing Se in sophistication. The Te clan's domain teems with scholars and craftsmen. Yours truly would even dare to claim that their certain art may even be superior to Ba Sing Se."
Mayumi frowned. "Then what is the problem? I suppose being good at pottery don't exactly style them as good soldiers."
Shan's expression darkened. He tapped the map, pointing to the encircling states. "The problem is desire. Zigan's wealth and refinement invite envy. Lady Te's certain disposition also complicates succession. Even if she were elevated to rulership, her claim might not be universally recognized." Shan then outlined the grim reality. Zigan, small yet prosperous, is currently caught between three warlords, each capable of fielding armies of a hundred thousand. Whenever one gained the upper hand, the other two would form temporary alliances to restore balance. Thus, the region is locked in an uneasy stalemate, as none of them can become powerful enough to destroy the others.
"By your account," Mayumi said slowly, catching on to what the scholar wishes to convey. "Any warlord who controls Zigan and its resources could tip the balance in their favor."
"Zigan may be small, but its farmlands are prodigiously fertile. Its cities are supported by an infrastructure both extensive and deliberate. Yet it is precisely because Zigan commands the region's major river crossings that its neighbors cannot afford indifference. The surrounding warlords would never stand idle while such a prize lay within another's grasp." He went on to enumerate the province's annual harvest yields and population figures with scholarly precision. Between these two resources, grain and people, any power that secured Zigan would gain more than sustenance for its armies. Its legions would swell inexorably, replenished by a steady reservoir of able-bodied conscripts. More critically still, dominion over the river crossings meant control of the waterways that fed all three neighboring states. Such access constituted leverage of the most dangerous kind, particularly if none of the warlords were inclined to acknowledge Lady Te's legitimacy as Zigan's rightful heiress.
Mayumi then asked how these circumstances bore upon Te Gaogui's predicament, what motive lay beneath the web of risks and maneuvers she now entangled herself in.
Shan's answer was unvarnished.