Years of waking early had trained Ren so well that he opened his eyes as soon as the sky began to lighten.
In a sense, this probably counted as waking up naturally.
He rubbed his eyes, washed up, and returned to his everyday routine as a model student.
Of course, he did not neglect his sword practice either.
After running through his sword forms, Ren went to the kitchen, brought water to a boil, and tossed in a few eggs he had bought the day before.
A few minutes later, nothing remained on the dining table but a small pile of eggshells.
Ren washed down the food with a glass of plain water, mechanically chewing as his mind actively mapped out his schedule for the day.
Sword-forging practice: no suitable materials, so put that aside for now.
Gather information at the library?
Already completed.
The high-level party event hosted by Player Zuko—trip on Ember Island?
The date hasn’t arrived yet, but the location is noted.
Definitely file that away for future reference!
As he went down his mental checklist, Ren’s eyes suddenly caught on a red umbrella resting in the corner.
He slapped his forehead.
How could I have forgotten about that?
Since today happened to be a rest day, it was the perfect time to pay Mai a visit and return her umbrella.
With his schedule settled, Ren quickly finished the boiled egg in his hand, closed the doors and windows, picked up the umbrella, and hummed a little tune as he headed downstairs.
The front gate Azula had burned down last time had already been replaced with a brand-new one.
Naturally, the royal family had paid for it.
Pushing the door open and stepping outside, Ren suddenly felt that if he ever failed at everything else, he could still make a living as a tour guide.
With his memory, calling himself a walking map would not be an exaggeration.
Local specialties, cultural history, famous anecdotes—he could recite them all off the top of his head.
Was there anyone more suited to be a guide than him?
After indulging in that little bit of smugness, he passed through the lively streets.
Things were different now.
He was not a top expert, not yet, but his swordsmanship had at least reached the point where he could protect himself.
The constant sense of crisis had eased, and with it came the ability to relax a little.
As the saying went, life required a balance of tension and relaxation; no one could keep their nerves taut forever without breaking eventually.
On a whim, he bought a cup of shaved ice.
Ever since returning to the Royal Caldera City, Ren had split his time between repetitive sword practice at home and burying himself in historical texts at the Royal Library.
Of course, those texts were all copies; very few original manuscripts remained.
Because of that, plenty of historical details had been quietly altered by Fire Nation phrasing.
The famous “platinum incident,” for example, told a very different story if one followed the actual historical records.
Originally, it had been a failed attempt by the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes to interfere in the Earth Kingdom’s internal power struggle.
It took place during Avatar Yangchen’s era.
Earth King Feishan and the rebel leader Nong were fighting over the throne.
Of course, given their respective historical titles, it was obvious who ultimately won.
At the time, however, the war had been locked in a bloody stalemate.
Both Feishan and Nong requested aid from the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes.
In the end, the Fire Nation and Water Tribes chose to support Nong, who promised them greater benefits.
They supplied Nong with a massive shipment of precious platinum, while sending Feishan nothing but paper currency in an attempt to crash the economy within his territory and erode his subjects’ trust.
But Feishan saw through the scheme.
In the end, at the Llamapaca Crossing, Nong was defeated by Feishan, and his loyalists were driven into the sea.
With that battle, Feishan secured victory.
After stabilizing the country, he melted down the platinum the two nations had given Nong and plated a badgermole statue beside his throne with it.
Then he closed every port and cut off trade with both countries.
Feishan declared that if either nation hoped to receive Earth Kingdom exports such as grain and minerals, they could wait until the surface of the platinum had fully oxidized into stone—that would take at least several hundred years.
In Fire Nation records, however, the story was told very differently.
In their version, the despicable Feishan rose to power with Fire Nation support, only to burn the bridge after crossing it.
He refused to repay the financial assistance the Fire Nation had provided and used scarce resources to pressure the Fire Nation into submission.
But the great Fire Lord stood firm and unyielding, resolutely closing the ports and refusing all trade with the vile Earth Kingdom.
Untangling records like these required careful comparison with other ancient texts, and it always gave Ren a headache.
Because of this constant studying, Ren hhadn’t even found the time to enjoy a single summer treat.
Since he finally had a free day, he had to buy one to taste.
Before long, Ren arrived at Mai’s house and knocked on the door, only to learn that she wasn’t home.
According to the steward who answered, she had gone to volunteer at a nearby royal orphanage.
Weird, Ren thought, rubbing his chin as he walked away.
He had known Mai for a decent amount of time now.
While her personality certainly wasn’t malicious—in fact, she was generally polite and grounded—the issue lay in her perennial, detached apathy toward life.
It was hard to imagine her finding the enthusiasm to volunteer anywhere.
If it were Ty Lee, with her bright, restless, outgoing personality, Ren would not have been surprised at all to hear she was volunteering.
But Mai?
That felt seriously out of place.
Worried about his friend, Ren asked the steward for the address, then headed there at once.
… Meanwhile, at the orphanage.
As an introvert who could hardly muster enthusiasm for anything, Mai had once, by chance, taught a child at the orphanage how to write—and unexpectedly found it enjoyable.
After that, whenever she had time, Mai came here to volunteer.
Her main job was teaching the children how to read and write.
Mai was not actually that old, but she carried herself with such maturity that people tended to forget her age.
At that moment, Mai stood before a small blackboard and wrote four words in succession: Fire, Air, Water, Earth.
She tapped the board with the ruler in her hand, her little face solemn and serious.
“Remember these four words.
They are the four elements that maintain the world, and they also represent four entirely different peoples and nations.
“Repeat after me.
Fire.” The children sat on the floor in front of their little writing boards, studying with surprising seriousness.
None of them questioned Mai’s authority because of her age.
Mai taught carefully and checked each child’s writing one by one.
Whenever she spotted a mistake in the strokes, she corrected it at once.
As the lesson progressed, the day grew increasingly warm.
A thin sheen of sweat appeared on Mai’s forehead, but she seemed not to notice.
Only after the last clumsy child had learned how to write did Mai finally feel how dry her throat was.
She licked her parched lips, nodded in satisfaction, and announced the end of class.
“Yay!” Hearing the children cheer, Mai’s face softened into a faint smile before she realized it.
Just then, she suddenly felt as though someone were watching her.
She turned on instinct and saw someone leaning against the doorframe, looking like a lazy big cat dozing in the shade.
The shaved ice in his hands had already melted completely into liquid.
He must have been there for quite a while.
A blush rose on Mai’s cheeks without her permission.
It was the embarrassment of being caught by someone familiar while doing something that felt oddly exposing.
When she had been teaching, Mai had been calm and composed.
But in the end, she was still a girl.
Of course she would feel shy.
Seeing her turn around, Ren walked forward a few steps and greeted her with a smile.
“You worked hard, Teacher Mai.” Hearing his half-teasing, half-earnest tone, Mai froze slightly.
You worked hard.
They were such plain words, yet it had been a long time since anyone had said them to her.
Her parents’ expectations made every achievement feel like something she owed them.
Succeeding was only natural.
Failing was shameful.
No one cared whether she was tired.
They only cared whether she had done her best.
This sudden, unprompted validation arrived so unexpectedly that even with her usual absolute composure, she felt a little flustered.
She pinched the edge of her sleeve, her gaze drifted uncertainly away from his face.
“Thanks.
You too.” Ren shook the paper cup in his hand.
“Don’t worry, even though it’s completely liquid now, it’s still ice-cold.
Perfect for cooling down right about now!
“Want some?” “Okay.” Miss Mai reached out and took it.
The chilled surface of the paper cup drove away some of the summer heat.
She peeled open the sealed paper lid.
A few bits of half-melted ice still floated inside.
She took a small sip.
It was so sweet.
It was nothing more than a common, ordinary cup of shaved ice—one that had completely melted into sugary water, no less.
If a vendor had tried to sell a cup like this to a regular customer, it undoubtedly would have provoked an angry outburst.
Yet, holding this entirely unremarkable thing in her hands, she found it incredibly, undeniably sweet.
The kind of sweetness that seeped all the way into the soul.