A small village in the southern Earth Kingdom.
Once a dying fishing village, it had begun to experience a resurgence. The locals, who hadn't seen traders in years, were now witnessing the arrival of essential goods for the second time in two months. Thanks to this, abandoned farmland was being revived.
"I thought the Beifong family were just as empty-headed as all the other wealthy houses, good for nothing but empty promises," muttered one of the village's oldest residents. "I'm glad I was wrong…"
"Yeah, after their caravan visited, things started changing," agreed his equally aged friend. "I hear they're going to neighboring villages too."
Many such forgotten villages, neglected by their rulers, were slowly rising again. Every villager felt an unprecedented gratitude toward one family, symbolized by a flying boar.
Lao hadn't made empty promises, as everyone could see. In a record two weeks, new routes were mapped, some through places unmarked on any map. Roads were being built for easier travel and trade.
Many villagers thought Lao wasn't profiting, even working at a loss. True, he faced setbacks, but few knew one of his family's core principles: "Every venture can yield profit if you view it from different angles."
The current family head had the same phenomenal business acumen as his ancestors. His mind was wired to find the most efficient, profitable actions, so his wealth only grew over time.
Meanwhile, in towns and taverns of all sizes, whispered conversations began, hinting at something more serious to come.
"Wouldn't it be great if Lord Lao were our ruler?" sighed a regular at a local tavern, a simple laborer who enjoyed the occasional drink.
"Keep your voice down!" hissed his companion, glancing at a nearby table where Earth Kingdom soldiers sat.
"Even they wouldn't mind a change in leadership," he waved off. "You know my eldest son's risen in the army. He says the boar's influence is growing—change is coming…" he finished meaningfully.
"Let's hope this doesn't backfire," his friend replied, nodding. "We don't need a civil war with enemies at our doorstep."
"Everything will be fine. Change is always needed," the man insisted. "Stagnation's no better." Slightly tipsy, he recalled his daughter's word: "Stagnation."
"It's not scary to retire anymore," he thought. His son had proven himself, now strategizing in headquarters. His daughter had fallen for a Beifong trader, now helping with accounts and sending expensive gifts home.
About thirty percent of such conversations were started by Lao's agents, drawing in unsuspecting listeners. But even without them, people would've discussed such topics.
*
The Si Wong Desert.
Even in the dry, near-lifeless Si Wong Desert, scattered settlements exist, some home to sandbender tribes. Old and new conflicts keep them apart. Some tribes haven't left their sands in years.
Under such conditions, they should've been buried by the desert long ago…
Especially with the severe lack of drinking water—or even plain water. Nearby, more adapted creatures lurk, eager for human flesh.
The desert's true rulers are sandsharks. Adults grow as large as airships. A few can swallow an entire mid-sized tribe.
On land, sandsharks reign; in the air, wasp-vultures rule. These horse-sized insects colonize the desert, terrorizing all local fauna. They feed mostly on carrion but won't refuse fresh meat when hungry…
Such harsh conditions stifle art or statehood. Yet humans adapt. Settlements survive thanks to giant beetles tamed by traders centuries ago. Their size and six powerful legs make them ideal for hauling cargo far heavier than themselves.
Historically, the Beetleheads domesticated them first. One of the oldest trading tribes, they kept others from perishing in the sands.
Legends say their beetle-like headgear dates back to when their ancestors lived underground. To protect against giant gila-corns, they crafted hats resembling Sour Beetles, which gila-corns avoided.
Gila-corns shrank after the planet's energy crash, now resembling small lizards—still venomous. The headgear became their trademark, signaling centuries of trust to trading partners.
"Father, was it wise to agree to these terms?" asked the youngest son of the current Beetlehead chieftain.
"You've not seen the outside world. The man we work for now wields immense power," his father replied, guiding his giant beetle.
"But we'll earn nearly half as much. And we'll have to go deep into the desert—it's far more dangerous," the son argued.
"A Beetlehead's life is already risky. Why refuse the Beifong family's patronage?" the father asked calmly. Seeing his son struggle, he continued, "Yes, we lose some profit, but we gain desert-essential goods. Our mission is noble. Soon, all tribes will beg us to trade, even where sandbenders fear to go."
Lao's plans included the desert's sparse population, securing the Beetleheads' support.
"Everyone already respected us," scoffed the sixteen-year-old, wrapped in cloth.
"My time is limited," his father said, accepting reality. "Life has ups and downs. In dark times, you can always turn to the flying boar," he added, thinking long-term.
*
Somewhere in the eastern Earth Kingdom.
On a picturesque meadow amid wildflowers, the bard group "Singing Nomads" rehearsed, their relentless positivity infecting listeners. Despite their quirks, they had fans across the Earth Kingdom.
To the melody of banjo, flute, and drum, they practiced a new performance they believed would stir hearts.
"The boar family brings us harmony," Chong, the leader and talented musician, poet, and bard, improvised. "Life…"
"What came before?" he asked lightly, forgetting previous verses.
"I don't remember either," Moku, a jolly man in pink-and-white kimono, replied from the grass. "Let's just start over…"
"True, brother. Let's create something new," Chong said, strumming his instrument anew.
"Where next?" asked Lily, Chong's wife.
"As always, dear—wherever the wind takes us," Chong laughed.
Their song would become a hit, portraying the Beifong family as bringers of balance to the people.
*
Ba Sing Se. Middle Ring.
In the "Impregnable City," whose walls no Fire Nation warrior had breached, life thrived. In the middle ring, home to the middle class, a man passionate about his people's fate spoke outside Ba Sing Se University.
"People! War rages beyond our walls! Our government hides the truth! Wake up and help other provinces stop the aggressor! Our brothers and sisters die daily—let's unite!" he shouted, his clothes marking him from the lower ring.
"He's wasting his breath," some passersby muttered. They knew the truth beyond Ba Sing Se's walls but lacked the courage to act. The middle ring feared the city's secret police.
"What's he even saying? Who let this beggar near decent people?" most scoffed, disbelieving a poor man's claims.
Within five minutes, two Dai Li agents arrived.
"Please stop spreading misinformation," one said loudly, grabbing the man's left arm.
"Let's go to headquarters and sort this out," the other added, taking his other arm.
"People, the Dai Li are to blame! They hide the truth!" the man shouted, struggling, until his mouth was covered.
They dragged him into an alley, quickly and professionally knocking him out.
"How many is that now?" one agent asked.
"Third this month," the other replied calmly, slinging the body over his shoulder.
"It's all because of Beifong goods. Their agents come with their supplies, but Lao's not to blame—people drove themselves to this."
"We'll have to work harder. We can't stop the supplies, or people will riot from hunger…"
Lower ring residents were mostly war refugees who knew the truth. They stayed silent to protect themselves and their loved ones. Even there, the Dai Li's reach was long.
Usually, the Dai Li acted faster when someone exposed the truth. But today, all agents were busy with their leader's mission—known only to the most trusted.
Beneath much of Ba Sing Se lie crystal catacombs, once home to the city's first residents. Long abandoned, they're still used by Long Feng's men to move unseen.
On their leader's orders, agents hid packages with long cords throughout the city. Dai Li agents undergo "procedures" boosting loyalty and efficiency, so no questions were asked.
"Captain, isn't this going too far? Sometimes these procedures lose effectiveness…"
"The leader knows best," the captain snapped, eyeing the sergeant. "You showed promise. Too bad it won't be fulfilled…" He signaled his men, who restrained the sergeant.
"Wait! I never doubted our cause! Stop!" The sergeant realized his mistake.
"You'll see him under Lake Laogai," the captain said, already regretful that such a promising man had strayed from their principles.