Today's lesson transcended the confines of the classroom, as Zhu Xi led his students into the embrace of nature, seeking to impart the significance of benevolent rulership. Seated on mattresses beneath the open sky and serene trees, the students listened intently to the sage's resonant words.
In the venerable tradition of the sages, self-cultivation remains the cornerstone of moral ascendancy, a principle that governs all echelons of society. A ruler must exercise benevolence over their subjects, and in turn, the people must offer their unwavering loyalty to their righteous sovereign.
As the first Earth Sage so wisely proclaimed.
Let the ruler be the ruler, and the people be the people.
When this balance is maintained, like the dutiful bond between a filial son and his father, society, and the entire nation by extension, flourishes. Yet, this philosophy extends even further, delving into the intricate mechanics of governance and societal harmony.
Beyond advocating for rulers to govern with benevolence and compassion, the first Earth Sage vehemently opposed the notion that military prowess should serve as the measure of leadership. Having been born into a chaotic and war-torn era, his teachings gravitate toward ethics, moral governance, and the cultivation of virtuous leaders. The revered Analects of the Sages extol rulers who exercise a gentle yet resolute rule, employing minimal force and eschewing coercion. Instead, they harness their virtue and moral authority, which become the pillars of a peaceful and flourishing society.
"If you govern through regulations and keep order through punishments, the people will avoid wrongdoings but will have no sense of shame." Zhu Xi lectured, with the weight of tradition behind him, reciting a key passage from these Analects. "But if you govern them by means of virtue and keep order through rituals, they will have a sense of shame and moreover will reform themselves."
The Earth Sages firmly uphold the belief that rulers must embody certain qualities to guide the masses effectively. Rather than squandering time and resources on military campaigns, they advocate for fostering internal harmony, leading by moral example so that the populace follows naturally. In this way, the need for force or coercion is minimized, and societal order emerges organically from within.
In the sagacious words of the first Earth Sage, one indispensable element forms the bedrock of good governance. That would be the trust between the ruler and the people. Regardless of the disasters or hardships a nation may endure, this bond must remain inviolate, even at the cost of provisions or military strength. As the Analects assert with unwavering clarity, harmony must not be disturbed.
Yet, despite the reverence these age-old principles command, there are always youthful dissenters unshaken by the weight of tradition. Among the gathered students, a lone girl dared to raise her hand, her brow furrowed, perhaps still grappling with the earlier teachings on rulership.
"If we do not fight those who harm society, how can we truly protect it?" asked the brown-haired student, uncertain about the concept. While accepting the notion of benevolent rule, the daughter of a village chief is aware that not everyone is truly righteous. No matter how kind her own father may be, there is always at least someone on the island that harbors nefarious aims, requiring the intervention from the likes of herself.
Zhu Xi curtained his disappointment behind a veil of calm. Like many Earth Sages, he had little tolerance for those who failed to grasp the profound wisdom laid bare in the Analects. Its timeless insights were meant to resonate with all, even those less refined in intellect. To falter in understanding such truths, in his eyes, is to exhibit a certain obtuseness.
"Since one particular student seems to have lost their focus, I shall elucidate once more," Zhu Xi remarked, betraying a subtle impatience. He then drew upon an age-old analogy, invoking the timeless struggle between the settled peoples and the nomads.
In the aftermath of the first great warring epoch, a period that spanned centuries and saw countless states vying for dominance, the Earth Kingdom was eventually united under the banner of a singular royal lineage. The Liu Dynasty, curiously founded by a lowly peasant scoundrel, ushered in what would become known as the nation's first golden era. This dynasty is famed for its cultural advancements, discovery of a lucrative silk trade route near the Si Wong Desert and is credited with the invention of paper. Such achievements cemented its place among the wealthiest and most revered dynasties of the Earth Kingdom.
Yet, despite their accolades, the ancient Earth Kingdom was plagued by a relentless foe, the nomads. Though the Liu Dynasty boasted superior numbers and more sophisticated weaponry, it initially faltered in quelling the raids of these untamed warriors from the steppes. Even the dynasty's founding sovereign fell into the hands of a cunning nomadic chieftain at one point. While history records that this protracted conflict ultimately tipped in favor of the settled peoples, though only after more than two hundred years, Zhu Xi seemed disinclined to dwell on the finer details of this drawn-out struggle.
"The ancient rulers were wise and sagacious," the Earth Sage declared with an air of reverence. "In their boundless wisdom and benevolent foresight, rather than obliterate the nomadic raiders, the reigning monarchs sought to enlighten them. They endeavored to impart morality upon these unruly tribes, guiding them towards civility. As the first sage so eloquently proclaimed, dwelling among barbarians is no excuse for forsaking virtue. Instead, it becomes a rare opportunity to demonstrate the steadfastness of one's moral cultivation.'"
In order to extend their teachings of virtue and moral refinement, Zhu Xi recounted how the Earth Kings of that era graciously betrothed their daughters to the very chieftains who once led the invasions. The sages of old believed such noble gestures could serve as a civilizing force, showcasing the cultural superiority honed within the fortified walls of their cities. Moreover, the chieftains who received these royal brides were expected to honor the Earth King with reverence. This is because filial piety, according to the sagely wisdom, naturally extended to one's father-in-law.
"But why not simply fight them?" Satchiko interjected with genuine bewilderment. "My people are often threatened by pirates, yet we always manage to defeat them."
Her thoughts were echoed by every inhabitant of Kyoshi Island, for none would ever consider submitting to pirates or seafaring marauders. The young warrior's astonishment simmered beneath the surface, though kept it in check. The notion that ancient Earth Kings needed to compromise with nomadic raiders struck her as almost implausible, especially given her firsthand experience of how sedentary armies could unleash unparalleled devastation with Earthbending alone.
Zhu Xi, with little tolerance for the outspoken nature of this particular pupil, adhered strictly to the doctrines espoused by nearly every Earth Sage. All the sagely enlightened would denounce despots who resorted to brutish solutions.
"Tyranny and force are no guarantee of lasting stability," Zhu Xi rebuked calmly. "A society can only flourish when its people cultivate their own virtues, unshackled by the weight of military might. This wisdom extends even to the uncultured barbarians, who neither adhere to proper social decorum nor display the refinement of manners and attire. Thus, the presence of an Earth Kingdom princess that embodies the nation's morality and virtues can temper the ferocity of the nomadic people. Therefore, pacifying them without the need for violence."
Unlike her peers, who wisely chose to conceal any reservations about the policies of those ancient rulers, Satchiko's confusion refused to subside. A warrior trained from birth, the brown-haired islander could not comprehend the utility of such humiliating strategies. Especially when capable generals could lead Earth Kingdom armies to decisive victories. She had heard stories of how her older peers from neighboring villages had successfully destroyed pirate dens. So why, she wondered, shouldn't more practical and forceful actions be applied on a grander scale?
Her affinity for combat immediately drew the ire of Zhu Xi, who wasted no time likening her mindset to that of the infamous tyrant, Chin. Naturally, the comparison to such a despot did not sit well with the Kyoshi Warrior, who recoiled at the thought of being associated with the reviled figure who threatened her people.
"Unlike the revered Sage Kings of old, Chin the Tyrant ruled through coercion, shattering the delicate balance of harmony so prudently established by the ancestors. Paranoid and devoid of sagacity, he ruthlessly purged righteous noblemen and disrespected the counsel of wise courtiers. When the Earth Sages of his era sought to dissuade him from his senseless military campaigns, their wisdom fell on deaf ears. Many met an unceremonious end, buried alive for their efforts to guide him." Zhu Xi spoke with an air of somber reproach, his gaze lingering on the pupil deemed the most troublesome in the class. "To champion the baseless efficacy of military might is to disregard the timeless wisdom of the Analects and align oneself with the delusions of tyrants. Only through moral cultivation and the consistent practice of virtue can brigands be pacified. If an enlightened and virtuous soul are to live among these so-called barbarians, what is there be to fear? Indeed, the uncultured would be awed by the wisdom and enduring morality of those who have cultivated their inner virtue."
Satchiko sat motionless, silently accepting the Earth Sage's stubbornness. She wondered if every wise man on the continent is as rigid as Zhu Xi, or if a few bold souls dared to challenge the established doctrine.
"Now, let us carefully examine the virtues and moral cultivation outlined in the Analects," Zhu Xi declared with characteristic formality.
The weary students turned to the prescribed page, Satchiko reluctantly following suit. As the intricate calligraphy still eluded her understanding, she could only rely on the lecturer, who made no attempt to infuse these lessons with any enthusiasm.
The Analects encourages all to cultivate virtue, mirroring the mannerisms and wisdom of the Earth Sages. Yet even the first Earth Sage recognized that true sagehood is beyond the reach of most. Thus, he introduced the concept of the junzi, which is a noble or virtuous individual. This title is not reserved for the elite but extended to any man who aspire to live by virtuous principles. Even the poorest beggar, content with having nothing yet embodying moral excellence, could be deemed a junzi.
"A beggar on the streets may be filthy, owning nothing but their meager existence," Zhu Xi continued with didactic and unwavering tone. "Yet even a vagabond who respects and adheres to the wisdom of the sages deserves recognition by the learned. Such virtues far surpass the failings of Chin the Tyrant, whose character was that of a xiaoren, a small, petty man, driven by selfish desires and fleeting gratification. As the first Earth Sage wisely stated, the pursuit of moral excellence outweighs personal gain. It is far more honorable to be born and die in poverty than to abandon sagely principles. Chin the Tyrant may have reveled in his opulent palaces and extravagant feasts, but in the end, it was the humble junzi who exemplified the true decorum worthy of admiration."
...
Satchiko struggled to focus, gripping the ink brush with a deliberate, if somewhat strained effort to channel her thoughts. Or more precisely, to reflect the virtues that those Earth Sages expects her to embody.
Ba Sing Se University offers many serene and tranquil spaces where students could unfurl their scrolls and immerse in study. In one of its countless gardens, she and a few classmates found refuge beneath a simple pavilion, its pillars formed by four entwined trees, branches intertwining to create a natural canopy of lush green leaves that shielded them from the sun.
With a heavy sigh, Satchiko practiced her calligraphy, hand trembling as she guided the brush across the parchment. The strokes uneven and crude, ink forming a clumsy rendition of a passage from the Analects, which is a stern condemnation of tyrants who had banished the wise Earth Sages from the imperial court. The passage recounted how such rulers, deaf to the sagely advice of noble courtiers, not only ignored prudent counsel but executed nobles from ancient family lineages, an act that the sages deemed an unforgivable transgression against the natural order.
"Finally," Satchiko breathed, wiping the sweat from the brow while surveying her work. "How does it look?" She held up the parchment for Npauj Npaim and the two other classmates, who exchanged hesitant glances, unsure how to critique the earnest yet unsightly attempt.
With uneasy smiles, Satchiko's classmates offered restrained feedback, careful not to offend.
"It's fine, I know my writing needs work," Satchiko said generously. She sighed, the weight of scholarly demands heavy on the shoulders. As the only student raised as a warrior, others found her background both alien and fascinating. Most of them are children of village chiefs or scions of noble families, who have lives steeped in scholarly pursuits. For the majority of nobles and wealthy families on the mainland, the art of combat is considered a crude endeavor, often relegated to second-born sons unlikely to inherit most of the family's lands.
One of her new acquaintances, a student from the nearby state of Chen Bao, ventured to ask what typically occupied Satchiko's days back on Kyoshi Island.
As Satchiko eagerly recounted memories of sparring matches and weapon training with her fellow sisters. she noticed a flicker of envy in the peer's eyes, especially when detailing trivial shenanigans such as gossiping and fishing with friends.
"What a pity," the young woman remarked, carrying a distinct accent that is slightly lighter than the dialect spoken by the mandarins of Ba Sing Se. "It's a shame my elder half-brothers cared little about me."
"H-half brothers?" Satchiko stammered, confused yet too cautious to probe further.
The native from Chen Bao sighed, seeing little reason to conceal what she considers an unremarkable past. "I am a daughter of a courtesan, my father brought the woman who birthed me from a brothel," she said with a wry smile. "Despite being an eyesore in a family of admirals, the head lady of the house still felt the need to send me far away so that I wouldn't threaten the inheritance of her two bloated sons. I can't entirely blame her, since not even the passing of my mother can erase the deed committed by the current head of the family. At least here, I can make a better living by paying lip service to the Earth Sages."
Satchiko held her tongue, hesitant to add anything further.
The conversation shifted as another student, seated beside Npauj Npaim, voiced her own frustrations with the lessons. If a village is on the brink of being overrun by a bandit horde or a marauding army, can an Earth Sage truly stop them with mere quotations from the Analects? She asserted with skepticism. In this day and age, sagely virtues seem utterly pedantic, perhaps even useless. How can those words about benevolence stand against a rain of arrows or wall of spears?
When pressed for her reasoning, the student suddenly fell silent. Eyes froze, seemingly staring at distant objects.
"I... I don't want to talk about it," she murmured, fear creeping into the voice as hands instinctively withdrew from the table.
An uncomfortable silence enveloped the group, prompting all four students to abandon their conversation and retreat into their individual studies.
As Satchiko attempted to concentrate on the parchment, her thoughts wandered to the looming dangers of the world outside. Life on Kyoshi Island may not have been perfect, but it felt idyllic, carefree even. Her youthful naivety allowed her to view the threat of pirates as a mere form of entertainment, a stage to display martial prowess in the company of fellow warriors.
But after spending time in the university, Satchiko had the time to think, to ponder. And then, attaining that grim realization.
Once the frog leaps from its comfortable well, it becomes acutely aware of the vastness of the sky. This truth, once attained, is indelible, even if she wishes to forget.
Ignorance, after all, can be a form of bliss.
"Sister."
Satchiko's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she turned to see Mayumi entering the garden. Throughout the weeks of grueling study, the presence of a family member had become one of the few joys that alleviated her burdens. Each visit promised one of life's most delightful pleasures, a balm for the ever-hungry Kyoshi Warrior.
"Big sis!" Satchiko exclaimed, smile widening. "What did you bring this time?"
With characteristic generosity, Mayumi always brought extra portions of food to the university, aware that it is less than ideal for Satchiko to eat alone in the presence of peers. Today, she arrived with a basket brimming with youtiao, deep-fried strips of wheat flour dough, lightly salted to perfection. Accompanying this delectable treat is a large pot of sweetened soy milk. The best part? It was all incredibly affordable, a humble breakfast fit for the locals.
Tempted by the enticing meal, the other three students also indulged, though none could match Satchiko's voracious appetite.
"It's good!" Satchiko declared with a mouth full, as if that single phrase is the only vocabulary her delight could muster.
The crispy, chewy texture of the fried dough complemented the sweetened soy milk. On Kyoshi Island, the locals could easily harvest salt by boiling seawater, but sugar is far more elusive, reserved for special occasions and cherished celebrations.
"So, how are things lately?" Mayumi asked thoughtfully, concern etched on her features. "I hope you are making good progress."
"It's... manageable," Satchiko replied, forcing a smile that is more mask than genuine expression, one that fooled no one.
With a sigh, Mayumi gently wiped the crumbs from Satchiko's lips, a tender gesture that showcased their bond. In a rare reversal of roles, she decided to ask for Satchiko's assistance, perhaps aiming to uplift her younger sister's dwindling confidence.
"Sister, I'm not sure if you're familiar with the surrounding area, but do you know where the city is holding its civil service examination?"
Satchiko blinked in surprise. "Why do you want to know that? You aren't even a participant."
"Do you know?" Mayumi pressed gently.
Satchiko regarded her sister thoughtfully, and then revealed that the examination would take place in the most secluded part of the university, not far from the ceremonial temple dedicated to the first Earth Sage himself. It seemed that Mayumi wishes to meet a benefactor just before the Keju, the most challenging exam in the world.
...
On their way, both of them caught sight of the quaint and secluded walled compound nestled in the heart of the university's expansive garden. Already, a throng of aspiring examinees, numbering in the hundreds, lined the building.
The participants presented a diverse tapestry of appearances. Rich and poor, tall and short. Ba Sing Se's civil service examination is open to all who possess the ability to read and write. Among the masses of hopeful scholars, the talented sons of farmers stand shoulder to shoulder with noble scions. Young intellectuals from beyond the city's walls have also arrived, for in a divided Earth Kingdom, talent knows no boundaries, especially for those who came from states that still favor lineages over merit. Even foreigners find their place here. The most gifted students from the Northern Water Tribe, finest of Agna Qel'a, have proven themselves formidable counterparts to the Earth Kingdom's literati.
"Oh, look, there's one from the Fire Nation," Mayumi remarked, noticing a single spot of red amidst the vast sea of green and brown. However, such minor details are not their immediate concern. While the civil service exam assesses the capabilities of these young scholars, the city remains vigilant, ready to punish any opportunist who seeks to exploit the situation.
As harsh as it may seem, the crime of undermining this official examination is met with the ultimate penalty, death. Soldiers are stationed along the path, instilling order with polearms in hand. Their stern expressions convey a clear message, any thoughts of smuggling parchments containing the analects into the compound would be swiftly quashed.
"Treason!" roared a soldier. The guards had uncovered that one of the examinees had brazenly tattooed a passage from the Analects onto his arm. "How dare you desecrate the sanctity of the state! As a scholar, are you ignorant of the consequences that follow such audacity? Men, make an example of this fool! Take him to the execution grounds at once!"
The accused dropped to his knees, pleading ignorance. Desperately, he invoked his lineage, declaring himself the scion of an esteemed household from the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se, boasting a proud ancestry of chancellors that stretches five dynasties back.
The soldiers, mere commoners enlisted into service, sneered at the vain appeal to nobility. Without fear of reprisal from the highborn clan, the armored men seized the scholar without hesitation. In the wake of the chaos, one of the robed scholar-officials stepped forward, attempting to restore calm among the remaining examinees by emphasizing the importance of the city's laws.
"The Chamberlain of Law Enforcement is fair and values merit, there is nothing to be feared if you have done no wrong," he assured them. "As for the gentleman's family, they shall not suffer the same fate. But let it be known, should they be found complicit in this crime, their titles and lands will be confiscated, and exiled from Ba Sing Se."
There would be no leniency for transgressions, and that mercy extended not even to the animals.
Both sisters heard the loud chirping of a sparrow, singing beautifully as it rested on a nearby tree. One of the soldiers remained silent, simply picking up a boulder and hurling it at the branches, expelling the small bird from the premise and restored a quiet environment. Witnessing this act, the onlookers felt that even breathing too loudly could incur punishment. Yet, amidst the tense atmosphere, there remained space for heartwarming sights.
A lone commoner stood at the grand entrance to the exam halls, accompanied by an elderly mother who offered words of encouragement. Mayumi remarked how this scene mirrors those found in literature, where a virtuous peasant aspires to become a trusted official, serving as a magistrate who dispenses justice upon the wicked and protects the honest masses. In practice, however, ascending to civil servant status within the city's sprawling bureaucracy is a tremendous leap from the life of a farmer, one that demands years of arduous study. Thus, she urged Satchiko not to lose hope, for many here have endured similar trials and tribulations.
"Ah, there she is," Mayumi pointed toward an approaching carriage. As the ostrich-horses came to a halt, it became apparent that the occupant had deliberately instructed the coachman to park right next to the two sisters.
At last, the noble lady emerged, resplendent in the elaborate liangbatou. Onlookers are astounded by the beauty that blessed their mundane existence, with many young gentlemen infatuated by the idea that their success on the civil service exam might offer a chance of courtship with this peerless woman.
This occurred as the coachman asserted that they should have stopped closer to the compound gate, lessening the presence of unsightly commoners.
"And so, we meet again," Te Gaogui said warmly while greeting the sisters. "A familiar face is always a welcome sight before embarking on a daunting endeavor."
To merely label this civil service examination as 'daunting' would be an egregious understatement. For the noblewoman, who possesses no petty aspirations or desire for wealth, the stakes are significantly higher. As the scion of an entire state, the outcome may profoundly impact the livelihood of Zigan's people.
Mayumi bowed humbly, prompting Satchiko to follow suit. While numerous admirers in the crowd were instantly captivated by the noble lady's peerless beauty, Te Gaogui prefer a candid exchange with an acquaintance who spoke plainly, devoid of flowery language.
"So, this is your sister?" Te Gaogui inquired, her gaze shifting to Satchiko as she gestured them to abandon the excessive bowing. "She resembles you perfectly, albeit a bit shorter."
The two older women exchanged pleasantries, while Satchiko patiently waited, wondering how long Mayumi would take to conclude this meeting. As the eldest child bore the weight of maintaining the family's reputation, it is a responsibility that could often feel burdensome.
"May fortune be with you, Lady Te," Mayumi offered earnestly, even extending a gesture of goodwill by providing some food from Jin's restaurant.
The noblewoman of Zigan graciously ordered the coachman store it away in the carriage. While an encounter with this distinguished scion of the Te clan might appear trivial, it is a vital boost of morale to the heiress, a commodity frequently underestimated in the rigors of life.
The contrasting perspectives of the two sisters reflected a broader divergence among the common people regarding the Keju. Beyond reciting historical records and governance theories, most laypeople are unaware that the civil service exams of the past had always encompassed the weighty Analects. Previous Earth Kingdom dynasties had aspired for this process to cultivate officials embodying sagacious values, thus bolstering the ranks of virtuous individuals who could assist the sovereign in ruling the nation. To memorize even a single chapter of those scholarly texts was deemed an insurmountable challenge for most in this world. Yet, to recite the entire collection required a remarkable level of respect, positioning such individuals to compose the most compelling eight-legged essays on governance.
As they observed Te Gaogui entering the walled compound, Mayumi soon disclosed an ulterior motive for their excursion, one that stirred a sense of unease in Satchiko.
"Sister, take a moment to survey your surroundings. What do you perceive?" Mayumi instructed, somewhat akin to their training sessions back on Kyoshi Island.
Satchiko cast her gaze about the area. Aside from the vigilant armored soldiers and several Ba Sing Se officials overseeing this year's civil service examination, the locale is thronged with eager scholars. Each of them hoping that their carefully crafted eight-legged essays might unlock the door to an esteemed vocation, one deeply revered in any society. Those who successfully navigate this examination stand among the finest intellectuals, the cream of the literati world.
"As the saying goes, behind many heroes and warriors stands a scholar who offers indispensable counsel," Mayumi began, almost like a small lecture. "From the most illustrious Earth Kings to the most revered Avatars, none achieved greatness without the guidance of a supportive courtier."
Satchiko did not indulge in ignorance for long. She promptly articulated her reservations regarding such an undertaking.
"Big sis, hiring a private tutor is expensive," she implored, almost raising her voice. "I may not be a good student, but this is simply unnecessary!"
"It is not my intent to dampen your spirit," Mayumi began with a measured voice. "But we must both concede that without some change, you will continue to struggle." She gestured subtly toward the throngs of examinees, their diverse origins written on their dress. To even attempt this grueling civil service examination is testament to their mastery of scholarly arts, each one a potential luminary capable of passing on the revered skills of calligraphy and deciphering ancient texts.
"Though Ba Sing Se may employ this event to single out the finest minds for bureaucratic service, I too shall seize this opportunity." Mayumi continued, a new and resolute confidence infusing her voice. "Time is on our side, and I will personally select from among the top candidates. I have faith in Lady Te."
Satchiko's eyes narrowed, suspicion sharpening as she sensed that Mayumi wasn't indulging in delusions. As calculating as it might seem, the refusal to offer Upper Ring accommodation while providing free sustenance was a shrewd maneuver, an implicit contract that compels the recipient into an unspoken obligation to repay favor.
"Can't we simply find someone else to teach me Earthbending?" Satchiko ventured cautiously, her words drawing a startled look from Mayumi. "Perhaps a scholar is unnecessary."
Mayumi, recovering swiftly from her surprise, forced a gentle smile and placed a hand tenderly on Satchiko's head.
"You need not trouble yourself with such matters," she reassured the younger sibling. "As your senior, I would settle for nothing less than perfection."
Satchiko did not return her sister's smile, but nodded nonetheless, grateful for Mayumi's unwavering care. It would be a grave disservice to question this sincerity. After all, unlike their bonds with the other Kyoshi Warriors, their connection ran deeper, bound by blood. Their lineage stretches back to the era of Kyoshi herself. If their ancestors and parents had upheld the integrity of their name, then surely, they too would carry forth that undying torch.
...
Regardless of the setting, be it the grand halls of a palace or the bustling stalls of the market, noble ladies of the Upper Ring are expected to embody grace and elegance, never once tarnishing the family name or the legacy they uphold. Though not a native of Ba Sing Se, Te Gaogui's presence eclipsed that of most local heiresses. She had flawlessly adapted to the city's customs, all while retaining the striking beauty that had long defined her. The reward for such unwavering dedication is recognition by the city's populace itself, which had bestowed upon the unofficial title of peerless beauty, tacitly acknowledging her as the Northen Earth Kingdom's most captivating woman.
At least, for now.
A cluster of young scholars from the finest households of the Upper Ring approached, offering premature congratulations. At their head stood a young man draped in a golden silk robe, confidently asserting that the title of this year's top-scoring examinee, the Zhuangyuan, will inevitably be hers to claim.
From his pristine appearance to the meticulously groomed long hair, Te Gaogui instantly recognized him as the eldest son of the Ganjinese patriarch. As a student of the prestigious White Deer Grotto Academy, both he and his younger brother are also expected to excel in this year's civil service examination, likely attaining the highest ranking amongst the top three.
"Fear not my lady," the Ganjinese assured with pride. "Virtuous gentlemen like ourselves will do our duty to humiliate that scoundrel from the Ximen family. We all know how much you disdain that lecher."
Expressionless, Te Gaogui dismissed their flattery, reading their secret intentions like a book. For this is one of the few places in the world where she could afford such indifference without consequence.
Though her natural beauty had spawned countless admirers and no shortage of envy from her peers, this esteemed status came with its own burdens. Loveless marriage proposals from ambitious scions are only a part of it. What weighed more heavily is the relentless expectation of perfection, a mantle forced to bear in every interaction with the city's prominent families. The pressure to maintain this unblemished image overshadowed even the most mundane of her social engagements.
But beyond all the constraints of her station, perhaps what Te Gaogui craved most is the absence of hollow praise and insincere friendships. As the wise often remark, the impoverished gaze longingly at the opulence hidden behind gilded walls, while the affluent yearn for the unburdened freedom that lies beyond the boundaries of their lineage. For the heiress of Zigan, the yearning is simpler. She desires fellowship unshackled by the weight of family names or the ever-present need to uphold a clan's reputation.
And so, ahead of the grueling examination which would span three days and three nights, Te Gaogui sought a brief respite in the garden courtyard of the examination hall, hoping to find some measure of tranquility. Strangely, despite the heavy expectations looming over her, she felt less troubled than one might expect, even knowing that her results could have consequences that extended far beyond the city's walls. As Ba Sing Se's peerless beauty, she found an unusual solace in this space, where the suitors are too preoccupied with the Keju exam to inundate her with endless torrent of marriage proposals.
Seated near a man-made pond, her gaze drifted idly to the goldfish swimming languidly beneath the surface, their movements soothing in simplicity. Her brief peace, however, was soon interrupted by the arrival of another noblewoman from the Upper Ring. At first, Te Gaogui sighed, bracing herself for what she assumed to be yet another 'rival' from a local family, eager to engage in the tiresome dance of status and prestige. But to her relief, the newcomer is one of the few noblewomen who cared little for such trivialities, a rare breed in a city where the pursuit of social standing is still clung to by the older generation.
"Lady Te," the noblewoman greeted, voice soft, lowering her gaze in a display of respectful humility. She wore a graceful liangbatou atop her head and executed a flawless curtsy, perfectly shallow, as dictated by the etiquette of the Upper Ring. In her right hand held a silken handkerchief, which she waved gently, every movement measured and delicate. The greeting, performed with impeccable precision, is an art in itself designed to convey the refined grace expected of those who occupied the highest echelons.
"It is good to see you, Lady Ula Nara," Te Gaogui replied, mirroring the decorum with a courtesy of her own.
Though there is no animosity between them, their exchange remained brief, polite phrases of mild encouragement exchanged before Lady Ula Nara excused herself from Te Gaogui's presence. While they are indeed competitors in the civil service examination, the Te noblewoman harbored no disdain for interactions that bore no ill will. Both are bound to study ancient texts that seldom cast women in favorable lights, striving for high ranks in an examination that, for all its grandeur, neither of them might truly enjoy. For women of their status, life behind gilded walls and the weight of patrimonial obligations might all there ever would be. Yet, fleeting moments of genuine camaraderie served to ease the tension, a rare relief in a world where even tea parties are laced with the undercurrents of social rivalry.
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sharp snap of a paper fan unfurling. She glanced to her side, noticing a figure clothed in white, standing so close she wondered how she had failed to notice him sooner. Regardless, Te Gaogui composed herself, instantly slipping into the poised decorum expected of an Upper Ring noblewoman.
"I've heard of you," she remarked, tone cool yet measured. "It's no surprise you'd be here. I can only hope your presence is not intentional."
The man in the white robe did not respond immediately. He first brought both hands together, offering a simple bow that is minimal in effort. It just enough to satisfy the stringent requirements of Earth Kingdom high culture. Despite that, his movements are deliberate, carrying the quiet confidence of one accustomed to such formalities.
"Lady Te's boundless beauty stifles the hearts of men across the world," he began, formal yet laden with a subtle weight. "With such an unrivaled gift, why should a woman of your caliber confine herself to a world dictated by the Earth Sages?" He paused, then added with a measured calm. "Moreover, I do not adhere to the belief that the existence of a single state should be valued above that of an entire nation. Nor is it wise to treat Ba Sing Se's bureaucracy as a mere avenue for selfish advancement."
The words, though crafted with elegance, carried the distinct flavor of an insult veiled as advice. Te Gaogui remained silent, expression unreadable, she mulled over the intricate layers of his statement. Was he questioning her motives? Dismissing her potential? Or perhaps warning her against the very system in which they both sought to excel? Though many speculated that she would likely claim the highest rank in this year's civil service examination, nothing is ever truly assured.
Just as her mind raced to conjure a worthy retort, she realized the gentleman in white had vanished, as if he had never been here at all. But it did left her alone once more, with thoughts lingering the weight of his cryptic words.
End of Chapter Notes:
-The state of Chen Bao is canon, troubled with dispute with the Northern Water Tribe.
-The name Ula Nara is based on Manchu language