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Jianzhu thought back to how he’d threatened the true Avatar, on that day everything had gone to pieces. The net cast by his power and influence over the Earth Kingdom was real, but it required constant, exhausting effort to maintain. The challengers he’d stamped out since Kuruk’s death were too many to count. And now here was the latest generation of parasite, catching him at his most vulnerable.
“They are together, yes,” Jianzhu said. He noticed the way Hei-Ran flinched beside him. Hui saw it too. With a smile, the chamberlain led them to the receiving hall.
The interior of the Beifong estate suffered from the rare sickness of wealth-induced monotony. It was covered from floor to ceiling in the same queasy brownish-green paint that had at one point been the most expensive shade in the Earth Kingdom. It was meant to show off just how rich the family was, but these days the main effect it had was making Jianzhu feel like he was being slowly digested in the acidic maw of a scavenger.
At the gullet of the columned hall was a double-seated dais where, over many generations, the leader of the Beifong clan and their spouse had held court. These days only one side of it remained occupied. Lu Beifong, Jianzhu’s old master, sat on the oversized throne, his dust-colored robes making a tent around his wizened head at the peak.
He may have looked like a mummy held together by silk threads and spite, but his mind was aggressive as ever. “Headmistress, wonderful to see you, as always,” he squawked, acknowledging Hei-Ran as fast as he could before turning to Jianzhu. “What’s this about a loan for the Southern Water Tribe?”
He didn’t ask about the Avatar. Nothing like a business transaction to get the old lizard crow tunneled in. Jianzhu had almost forgotten about the request he’d made to Beifong after the battle with the pirates. Work hadn’t stopped simply because the Avatar’s identity had been in doubt. He bowed deeply before answering.
“Sifu, I made that request because the encounter with Tagaka brought up an issue of balance between the Four Nations,” he said. “The Southern Water Tribe could use assistance in developing a legitimate navy. Tagaka’s presence was stifling any movement in that direction. With more far-ranging deepwater ships, they could prosper from trade and protect themselves from their neighbors, much like their Northern cousins. The loan would be for the construction of such vessels.”
“We are their neighbors, Master Jianzhu,” Hui said, materializing by Lu’s side. “Why would we want to give them any position of strength relative to the Earth Kingdom? Why, they might try to claim the contested Chuje Islands with such a fleet!”
A familiar rage raised the hairs on the back of Jianzhu’s neck. Hui had no real stake in this matter, not even personal greed. There was no reason for him to want the Southern Water Tribe to remain poor and undeveloped and vulnerable.
It was simply opposition for opposition’s sake. Somewhere down the line, Hui had decided to make his name by using Jianzhu as a ladder, and a straw man, and whatever other analogy applied. It was easier for Hui to gain political power and fame by tearing down Jianzhu’s work than doing his own.
No matter how logical and beneficial Jianzhu’s actions were, Hui would undercut them. He pushed to end treaties that had taken years to develop, brushing them off as unnecessary when in truth he didn’t understand how they worked and didn’t care. He stoked petty rivalries he didn’t have to, toying with peace that Jianzhu had earned. Had Hui been around during the height of the Yellow Neck atrocities, he would have insisted on treating that madman Xu Ping An like a folk hero.
It was times like these when Jianzhu found himself sorely missing the influence of Lu’s wife, Lady Wumei. She had been an intelligent and vivacious woman, beloved across the kingdom, and a source of wisdom in Lu’s ear. After her death, the old man had become more obstinate, and Hui’s bold destructiveness had accelerated.
“I’ve spoken to the southern chieftains and they’re excited about the prospect,” Jianzhu said. “They’ve proposed a compact of mutual defense.”
“It’s a good idea, Master Beifong,” Hei-Ran said, adding an outsider’s perspective. “Right now, the group most capable of projecting force over the Eastern Sea is ironically the Fire Navy. I’m sure the Earth Kingdom and Southern Water Tribe would prefer to command their own waters.”
Lu didn’t look convinced. Jianzhu didn’t want this opportunity to slip away. “If it’s about the Chuje Islands, they’re worthless,” he said. “They serve no strategic purpose other than puffing up national pride—”
He realized his mistake as soon as he said it. It wasn’t like him to blunder so.
“Master Jianzhu!” Hui said with fake horror. “Surely there is no matter more important than the pride and love we have for our country! The Earth King has been vexed over those islands since his coronation. Surely you are not questioning His Majesty’s judgment!”
Jianzhu would have liked nothing better than to maroon both the Earth King and Hui on one of those desolate atolls and see which idiot ate the other first. Before he could respond, Lu waved his hand.
“Enough.” He heaved himself to a standing position. It was barely noticeable, given his hunch. “I side with the chamberlain. There will be no loan and no Southern Water Tribe navy unless I hear a convincing argument from the Avatar himself. I notice the boy is late. He can find me in the banquet hall with the other guests when he arrives.”
Lu shuffled out of the receiving hall, the only noise the rasping of his slippers against the floor. Jianzhu couldn’t believe it.
Just like that, the future had changed for the worse. The Southern Water Tribe would remain impoverished and outpaced by the rest of the world all because Hui wanted to win a debate at a party. The stupid, smug whims of one unworthy man had left fingerprints on history that weren’t likely to be erased.
The Avatar could have made the difference, Jianzhu reminded himself. The thought stuck through him like a javelin.
“Master Jianzhu, I apologize for making a counterargument,” Hui said. “But as you know, it’s my duty to Master Beifong to make sure both sides are considered in any important decision.”
“Both sides” was a rhetorical weapon used by hypocrites and the ignorant. As far as Jianzhu was concerned, Hui was no better than a daofei, wantonly burning fields of grain because he enjoyed watching the smoke rise over the horizon.
I would show you what I do to daofei.
“Chamberlain, it’s quite all right,” Jianzhu said. “I always appreciate your voice in such matters.” He hesitated, adding a hitch of uncertainty to his body language, the trembling of a man who was hiding the strain of a great burden. “In fact, I need your wisdom more than ever right now. Can you join me and the headmistress to talk in private?”
The upside to the sudden confession was watching Hui nearly collapse in surprise. The man grabbed the desk in his office for support and knocked over a bottle of ink. The black liquid dripped down the chamberlain’s sleeve like blood from a wound.
“YOU LOST THE AVATAR!?” he shrieked.
Jianzhu wasn’t worried about being overheard. He knew from a glance at the walls that Hui had built his plain, unadorned personal study for soundproofing. It was a safe room of secrets for a man who trafficked in them.
The more dangerous element here was Hei-Ran. Jianzhu hadn’t told her he was going to tell Hui, because she would never have agreed to it. He risked driving her away, in this very moment.
