A scholar seated upon a floor cushion, thoroughly inebriated, struggling to recite a verse by the famed poet Li Hei. The host and several invited scholars alternated between laughter and mild concern that their companion might soon topple into the carefully arranged dishes. Still, the atmosphere remained relaxed and convivial, wine flowed freely, and sumptuous dishes adorned the square table, laid out for the assembled young gentlemen of the city.
In a sense, the drunken scholar is an oddly fitting centerpiece. Li Hei himself was remembered for his fondness for wine, even in the midst of the Earth Kingdom's most celebrated golden age.
Shan, though courteous in acknowledging the host's invitation, found himself seated inconveniently beside the intoxicated guest. Around him, the others oscillated between earnest discussion and boisterous laughter, indulging in food while trading gossip both trivial and scandalous. Some mocked the recent missteps of neighboring warlords, others turned their amusement toward matters of romance and women, their words loose with wine and mirth.
Unfortunately, this was not quite the dignified philosophical gathering the White Scholar had anticipated. Still, any expenses such as overturned plates or the occasional shattered cups would undoubtedly be absorbed by the ever-gracious host, Young Master Pan Yue.
It did not take long before a few additional intoxicated scholars swelled the revelry. Shan, who harbored no particular fondness for wine, merely endured the presence of these rowdy interlopers, now loudly declaiming poetry in a coarse, unrefined cadence beneath illiterate farmers.
"Yours truly's expectations have been misplaced," Shan murmured under his breath, though he was well aware that his presence served another purpose entirely. It is mostly to signal goodwill and sincerity toward the gracious Pan Yue, custodian of this modest gathering. At the very least, the attendants and bodyguards of the gathered scholars are dining considerably better, free from the distraction.
At a nearby table, Satchiko sampled a variety of pastries, carefully restraining herself from appearing too ravenous under her sister's ever-present admonitions regarding proper dining etiquette. Such concerns, however, were largely ignored by others of similar occupation. Most are fellow diners are just retainers sworn to the protection of defenseless scholars. A heavily armored man, likely a mercenary from the unforgiving Si Wong Desert, insisted that the youth ought to eat heartily for strength, even as he himself tore into two massive roasted haunches.
Unlike their scholarly employers, these hardened retainers who are accustomed to danger and deprivation, had little patience for table manners or anything that might slow their consumption of free meat.
Such as using chopsticks!
"Youngsters these days," grunted a former Ba Sing Se marine turned bodyguard, skewering raw mutton with a pair of metal chopsticks. "They never consider that each meal might be their last. The least we can do is enjoy free food without fretting over irrelevant customs that dull the taste."
Mayumi offered a polite nod out of courtesy. While her sister continued to indulge in the lavish meal, she herself sought only to quiet the gnawing edge of hunger. Yet whenever a messenger arrived, such as the one who now entered and leaned in to murmur a few words into Shan's ear, unease inevitably dampened appetite.