"I need you to stay close and not wander off," Mayumi warned, her eyes never leaving the narrow street ahead. "There's no telling what they might do once we step into their domain."
She kept to Shan's side with quiet vigilance, her movements guarded, the rhythm of her breath matching the scholar's measured pace. Both maintained a wary distance from the group of scholars walking before them. Instinct, sharpened by experience, whispered that Ximen Qing's invitation concealed motives far from cordial. Though the White Scholar had never openly opposed the Ximen clan, his rank as a Zhuangyuan alone would inevitably draw their attention, like moths to the glow of prestige.
"Your apprehension isn't misplaced," Shan replied evenly. "But I doubt martial skill will prove necessary in this affair." His tone carried the composed certainty of one well-versed in the political undercurrents of Ba Sing Se, with the scholar explaining that the Ximen family are proud, but not witless. They will not risk actions that might invite the ire of the city's higher circles. Furthermore, their grasp of Ba Sing Se's laws runs deep, and know precisely how to skirt punishment. The harm on a sage or scholar is forbidden under most decree across the fractured realm, as to injure one is to weaken a state itself, depriving it of wisdom and counsel. For that reason, Shan asserted that there is little fear of being attacked. At least, not physically.
"The Ximen family can disgust us all they wish," Shan continued dryly. "But those nepotists understand well that treason is the only sin capable of erasing their entire lineage. They didn't survive this long without playing their hand with care. The young heir's behavior may be vile, but the vixen's father did not rise to the admiralty through mere indulgence. The man is cunning, and his household survives because of it."
Mayumi cast a sidelong glance toward the scholars ahead, half-concerned they might overhear. Yet Shan's reputation as the White Scholar silenced any thought of reproach, his tongue as sharp as any blade. She pondered in silence, recalling faintly that Ba Sing Se's military command rested in the hands of five generals, the Council of Five. The current patriarch of the Ximen family is one among them. That alone explained much of the delinquent's brazenness, the immunity for reckless lust.
This is, in some unsettling way, familiar to Mayumi's own upbringing that had not been free of unearned privilege. As the daughter of her village's chief, she and Sachiko had always been regarded slightly differently by their peers, afforded small mercies that others were denied. Yet this advantage on a remote island is but a mere ripple compared to the tidal power of Ba Sing Se's aristocracy. Here, lineage is a fortress and prison. According to Shan, the proud Ximen name had been carved into the city's stones for centuries, which cannot be simply displaced.
"I imagine by now you've begun to understand how the Upper Ring conducts itself," Shan spoke on. "After meeting Ximen Qing, you might even wonder why he's not already in chains."
"Isn't his disruption during the wedding an offense against local law?" Mayumi asked, unsure of the sophisticated penal code that governs this city.
As a Kyoshi Warrior, such insolence would never go unanswered. Disorder, intrusion, and insult, each warranted discipline, and sometimes blood. Her own seniors are not afraid to draw a few drops of crimson to subdue troublemakers who transgressed her home island. By all logic, Ximen Qing's spectacle should have drawn the watchful eyes of the Dai Li or the city's regular patrols. The young scion had even endangered General Sun Bin's health, which will obviously undermine Ba Sing Se's military. That alone should have provoked reprisal. Yet the delinquent strutted untouched, confident as ever in his impunity.
"What harm can Ximen Qing's words do?" Shan elicited. "He didn't raise a finger to strike. A man who poses no threat cannot be bound in chains. His retainers' interference was, by all appearances, a reaction to the Zhang tribe's wise man and a brawl at a wedding. While indecorous, it does not amount to treason. As for Lady Qian Jin's scandal, it is reasonable to assume she cohabited with him, willingly. But as you see, promiscuity is a moral failing, not a legal one in our city. Not even the highest ministers could justify imprisonment on that ground."
Of course, the White Scholar did mention that other independent states across the warring continent have its own laws. Omashu, with its proud claim of adhering strongly to the wisdom of the Earth Sages, punishes unfaithful spouses quite severely. No shortages of whipping can be spared for those caught in adultery, especially the women.
"But Shan, surely most people want to see Ximen Qing punished," Mayumi stated the obvious. "If the Upper Ring itself condemned his conduct, wouldn't that serve everyone?"
The scholar's expression remained impassive, carved from marble. His stillness implied neither dismissal nor agreement. But merely punishing the delinquent scion doesn't mean other factors would let the city do so.
Soon, one answer revealed itself in the form of figures clad in heavy layered lamellar, stationed before the entrance of a towering wall. Their lack of visible weapons confirmed their identity as Earthbenders, and likely far more formidable than those who had escorted Jin Lian.
Mayumi's hand lingered over her blade, her eyes fixed upon the silent sentries while the dignitary of scholars exchanged words with the purple gate's custodians. Beyond that ornate threshold, she surmised, lay the estate of the illustrious Ximen family. Even from outside, their power emanated like heat from a furnace. The walls soared three times the standard residence walls nearby, their breadth stretching far beyond sight. Around them rose stately buildings of exquisite design, yet none could outshine the purple gate's magnificence.
She leaned toward Shan, whispering discreetly with suspicion sharpening her tone. The guards are embroidered with purple plums across their chests, a proud declaration of their allegiance. Though their uniforms differed little from the city's official garrisons, that single emblem set them apart entirely.
"Those are Fubing troops, personal soldiers of the Ximen family, and also another ailment born of enfeoffment." His explanation is filled with nothing except disappointment to those who came before them, including the ones that led the Earth Kingdom into the current cesspool. "Since their founder's era, the monarchy has granted them fiefdoms across the four districts. Tax revenues from those lands flow not to the crown, but directly into their coffers. In return, their subjects pay reduced levies in exchange for military service, a policy that wins loyalty easily."
"A private army," Mayumi said warily.
"Indeed. A host numbering in the hundreds of thousands, men loyal to the Ximen family alone. To call them mere bodyguards would be an understatement. Curious, isn't it, that an admiral commands so many soldiers trained for war on land?"
His remark summoned to Mayumi's mind the thunder of hooves, the Ximen cavalry she once saw storming across the Agrarian Zone, chasing down those deemed trespassers upon their liege's private domain.
"Let them through!" one of the guards bellowed at last. The colossal double doors hewn from hardened earth and groaned as they parted, bending gracefully under the guards' command.
Even for the Upper Ring's nobility, the grandeur felt excessive in Mayumi's eyes. Sunlight poured through the widening gap, forcing the retainer to shield her eyes while Shan stood unperturbed. The afternoon glare flared directly behind the gate, gilding the courtyard beyond in near-divine brilliance.
"This way, esteemed Zhuangyuan," said the lead scholar, bowing low to Shan.
As Mayumi followed, one of the sentries stepped forward, arm raised in silent interdiction. The movement drew Shan's immediate attention.
"Halt! No weapons may enter the palace grounds." The guard declared flatly. "Your safety will be overseen by our own security."
To Mayumi, the reasoning was hollow. A bender could summon devastation with bare hands. What need had they to fear her steel?
"To my knowledge, the Admiral himself never parts with his blade," Shan countered the sentry swiftly. "Perhaps such prohibitions do not apply to him? But yours truly understand the ever-present threat of assassination."
His tone alone was enough to silence the doorman. Then, with deliberate calm, Shan turned from the gate. "Takeko, let us leave. We must honor our hosts' rules."
"Of course," Mayumi replied smoothly, playing along with his ruse. This deliberately inserted the assembled scholars into an uneasy position. They knew well the dire consequences should word spread that a Zhuangyuan scholar departed in offense over such a trifle.
"Wait, please, wait!" one of the scholars pleaded, rushing to intercept the duo, bowing deeply. "Captain Hong Chengchou over there meant no insult. We are all humble servants of Young Master Ximen Qing. For our sake, we would be most thankful if you please attend the banquet." He leaned subtly toward Mayumi, whispering a suggestion of concealing the blade beneath her robes. It would satisfy the obligations of both sides.
Shan unfolded his fan. "Very well. I shall overlook this lapse in courtesy." The guards looked poised to protest, but the scholars quickly subdued them with nervous glances and quiet words.
Once inside, the estate's magnificence unfolded like a painted scroll. Along the stone path stretched lakes so pristine they mirrored the clouds, statues of past figures, and groves of foreign trees. Wildflowers of rare hues carpeted the pavement's edge, their fragrance mingling with the faint sound of water trickling through carved channels. Even the Royal Palace's tea gardens, Mayumi thought, paled before this splendor.
"For a family so despised by many, this place is... enchanting," she cannot help but remark.
"Beguiling is a better word," Shan corrected. To him, one who had seen the rarest gardens reserved for the royal elite, this display felt less magnificent than ostentatious. "Few outsiders are ever granted entry to the Ximen palace. Frankly, yours truly find it dull."
They continued their long walk through the estate, the path winding past bridge after bridge, the landscape unrolling with relentless opulence.
"Perhaps now is the time to speak of their history," Shan said. "The clan's original founder earned the favor of an ancient Earth King, who rewarded him with vast wealth and land. Across dynasties, their lineage persisted. Rulers here have sought the Ximen allegiance, some through gifts, others through fear. Although the war hero who started this clan will remain loyal to this city in the graves, he cannot object to the decadence of his descendants."
They arrived at the foot of a grand statue dedicated to the household's founder. The effigy depicted a man astride an ostrich horse, the standard steed of Earth Kingdom militaries. Like so many heroes immortalized in stone, he holds a massive glaive, an imposing polearm whose sheer weight and balance required prodigious skill to wield. Merely holding such a weapon is emblematic of strength and mastery, hence, generations of warriors longed to be remembered in the same commanding pose.
As they lingered before the monument, Shan began his account of the man's history. Despite the household's tarnished repute in the present day, the scholar's remarks on its progenitor are surprisingly measured, even admiring save for the founder's participation in the much-reviled practice of enfeoffment. This patriarch, known as Ximen Bao, was celebrated as both a cunning strategist and a reformer whose intellect had once brought glory to ancient Ba Sing Se. Yet Shan emphasized a facet seldom praised by military chroniclers, Ximen Bao's rationalism.
During the man's lifetime, many provinces of the Earth Kingdom were plagued by devastating floods. In their desperation, rural Earth Sages resorted to human sacrifice, casting young maidens into rivers to appease a deity they called Hebo. Disgusted by the superstition, Ximen Bao abolished the inhumane shamnism and replaced blind ritual with reasoned governance. Under his direction, vast hydraulic projects reshaped the landscape, diverting waters and irrigating farmlands through a network of canals whose remnants endured for centuries.
"Wait," Mayumi interjected, brow furrowed. "I thought the honor of taming the floods was given to a legendary king—"
"The Earth Kingdom's annals span millennia," Shan replied. "You would be surprised how often history and myths chooses to rhyme."
He went on to explain that Ximen Bao's intellect extended beyond the civil sphere. In war, his strategic genius could transform the very battlefield. He employed Earthbenders to raise walls mid-conflict, partitioning enemy ranks and plunging them into disarray. The reigning Earth King of that age, Shan noted, both revered and feared his prowess. To bind the general's loyalty, the throne granted his family vast fiefdoms and the right to collect taxes within their domains, privileges meant to secure allegiance. Though this act later rendered the clan powerful enough to threaten the crown itself, especially whenever a dynasty changes.
"I find him reasonable," Shan concluded, eyes tracing the weathered face of the statue. "A monument to such a man is well deserved. Yet I doubt his descendants strive to emulate his restraint. Still, at least no mold grows within the cracks. Come, we must move on." He led her onward, until they stood before a building so majestic that Mayumi mistook it for a temple. Its stairway alone, steep and sweeping, rose higher than the rooftops of her homeland. Built in the same austere grandeur as the Royal Palace, albeit on a smaller scale, the mansion proclaimed its authority through sheer elevation.
The guards stationed nearby were encased in lamellar armor heavier than that of the royal guards, even enclosing their faces. Each helm bore the emblem of a purple plum. The longer Mayumi studied it, the more unease coiled in her chest.
"White Scholar," one of the armored men called, his voice muffled by the lamellar. "The banquet has already commenced. You should hasten to the main hall, our young master awaits."
Shan's expression did not so much as flicker. Mayumi adjusted her pace to match his as he slowed deliberately.
"We shall not rush," he said with a detached voice. "Ximen Qing is not the sort to take offense easily."
His languid stride betrayed a silent intent. To arrive late at a banquet hosted by such a man would hardly be scandalous. It is Ximen Qing after all, the man had flouted etiquette by sending the invitation at the last moment, neglecting the custom of using three messengers dispatched in advance.
They ascended the steps with the unhurried rhythm of the elderly. Mayumi soon realized Shan was delaying on purpose, perhaps calculating that a measured entrance would yield some meagre advantage within the web of courtly intrigue.
"Takeko, I must warn you beforehand that Ximen Qing is an eccentric," Shan warned, understanding someone born beyond a major city needs to hear this. "While many of us rightly scorn his excesses, it would be unwise to meet them with brute force. The Zhang tribe may act with impunity, but a scholar's retainer attacking a fellow man of... learning would invite complications best avoided."
Mayumi inclined her head, signaling understanding. She needed no reminder of the dangers that came with offending the great houses of the Upper Ring. The last thing she wished was a nocturnal visit from a man in a dark robe and conical helm, asking why she had provoked Upper Ring's most powerful family.
The position of the Ximen clan within Ba Sing Se is beyond dispute. Their influence threads through the bureaucracy like an unseen lattice, binding officials, magistrates, and advisors to their orbit. To antagonize them would be folly. Thus, a man such as Shan, who is versed in the delicate choreography of social intrigue, is far better equipped to parry whatever subtle treachery that the delinquent might be engineering. While she herself would remain vigilant for threats that lurked beyond polite conversation. Even with all considerations weighed, prudence demanded that a competent bodyguard accompany him. As power often invites rule-breaking, and a distinguished calligrapher possessed no defense against a blade aimed at his chest. Such violence is improbable amid the refinement of an Upper Ring banquet, yet not beyond imagining.
They had not forgotten the antique clock, Ximen Qing's rather insinuating gift.
"The Earth Kingdom, in all the long centuries of its existence, has known no shortage of upheaval and strife. Yet amidst the turbulence, one pattern persists, a truth as old as civilization itself. When a dynasty falls, it is merely a change in management. Farmers still till the same soil, servants still sweep the same courtyards. As long as the humble continue to bow their heads and play their allotted roles, the victors, old or new, seldom feel compelled to replace them." Shan's voice carried this reflection as he and Mayumi neared the end of their slow ascent. "I want to hear from your perspective, Takeko. Why do you think the Ximen family has endured so long? Through every collapse and rebirth of an imperial line, they not only survive but thrive. Each time, they are richer, stronger, more entrenched than before."
Mayumi already knew the answer. The Ximen's survival was no accident of fate. Each generation of clan leaders had simply bent with the wind, pledging new allegiance whenever the old order waned. The rise of one royal house and the fall of another is as predictable as the shifting of the seasons, and the Ximen always placed their fortunes upon the side most likely to ascend. History is littered with nobles who perished through obstinate loyalty, yet the Ximen prospered precisely by avoiding such folly. Their private army, drawn from men born and raised upon their fiefs, stood as living proof of this cunning foresight.
But to voice such insight would be unwise. Takeko is no scholar, at least not in Shan's eyes. She was meant to be a simple girl from beyond the city, and too much shrewdness could unravel the careful disguise that concealed her true origin as the daughter of a village chief.
So she feigned ignorance. "I'm… not really sure," she murmured, playing her part with deliberate hesitation. "But it is strange, isn't it? How the Ximen family has lasted longer than most dynasties themselves." She is hinting at the obvious opportunism and flimsy loyalty employed by the Ximen family, retaining their power whenever a dynasty fell to the ashes.
Her remark, though modest, earned a nod of approval. Shan took the bait, continuing with his own assessment. "Indeed. Their fiefs bring them wealth, but it is their Fubing, those loyal men under their purple banners, that make them rather untouchable. The Ximen could have seized the throne long ago. But their forebears were wise enough to understand the curse of a crown. Once you become an Earth King, you forfeit the life of an ordinary person. Every rival plots your fall, and when that fall comes, not even dignity remains. Why court such ruin when one can thrive from the shadows and court the victorious side instead? With their own army at hand, even the city itself must tread lightly."
"So there's fear that they might change allegiance again?" Mayumi asked, not even afraid how dangerous her words may be when spoken aloud, considering they are right within the Ximen family's greatest property.
"Precisely, the wars beyond these walls may yet spill inward," Shan confirmed her deduction. "Still, Ba Sing Se's bastions are formidable. History has shown that not even the likes of Chin the Conqueror can breach them easily. The greater danger lies in those who plots against this city through… subtler means."
The retainer answered his assertions with silent contemplation, wondering if Shan is aware of the cult that enrooted itself into Ba Sing Se. Considering those acolytes have mainly covertly made dens in the Lower Ring, perhaps not at this point in time.
Their climb ended at last before the imposing hall entrance of the Ximen palace itself. Before entering, Shan guided her aside to a stone monument. It is a sculpture of the mythical Lion Turtle, on its shell stood a pillar inscribed with ancient text. Mayumi could read the script but chose to hide that fact.
"Behold the audacity of the Ximen family," Shan said bitterly. His eyes traced the statue's lines with disdain. "A monument to their vanity. The Earth Monarch who commissioned this was shortsighted and fearful for his short reign. To ensure the loyalty of the Ximen and their private army, the monarch granted them privileges that would pass to all their descendants. Whatever their crimes, only treason could be punished."
Mayumi tilted her head. "Yet punishment seems rather unlikely when a dynasty stands on the brink of collapse."
"Exactly." Shan fanned himself, the gesture both weary and sharp. "Every new ruler, in their desperation, renews that same oath, promising the Ximen family safety in exchange for support. To destroy them outright would cost too much blood and power. Even if one succeeded, the victor would be left weakened, ripe for another dethronement. In the end, it is always easier for those Earth Kings have the Ximen as allies than as enemies.
The Fubing, Mayumi mused silently, were no mere household bodyguards. Their lowered taxes and privileges bound them in fierce loyalty to the admiral and the clan. In times of crises, it would be unwise to test their allegiance between the standard of the golden coin and the purple flag with a plum flower.
"If the crime is not treason, the Ximen cannot be touched. But when that treason finally comes, I doubt Ba Sing Se will emerge unscathed." Shan fanned himself. A Legalistic scholar like him believes treason of the Ximen family is an eventuality rather than an unwarranted fear.
As they turned back toward the entrance, their steps faltered. From beyond the doors came bursts of laughter, shrill and drunken, mingled with indecent sounds. The thick scent of wine within the hall drifted in the massive doors like a foul mist, tarnishing the calm of the garden. Compared to the refined brews of Ganjinese, this liquor reeked of cheap indulgence.
Shan's brow tightened. "Their decadence has surpassed yours truly' expectations," he said dryly. Within the Upper Ring, restraint is a badge of civility, yet Ximen Qing, care neither for reputation nor the sanity of those around him. It seems that those associated with him can also contract the same debauchery.
A porcelain cup hurtled through the air toward Shan's face. He stood still, allowing Mayumi to draw her new blade and shattered it mid-flight, wine splattering across the flagstones like spilled blood. Neither flinched. The throw was clearly accidental, the offender too preoccupied with the suspiciously voluptuous servant girl perched beside him, pouring more wine with a coy smile and whispered jest. It appears Ximen Qing had devised an unorthodox method of entertainment for his invited guests, confident that even the most virtuous young disciples of the Earth Sages could be tempted by more worldly pleasures.