Chapter Text
There is a proverb about lost horseshoes and lost kingdoms. There are also stories that verify such proverbs.
This is not a story about horseshoes, it is however a story about tea.
Chang So is a tea seller of Ba Sing Se. It is his occupation and the one thing he is mostly good at. He likes to advertise his tea as ‘the finest tea in Ba Sing Se’. It is a lie, of course, and everybody knows it. You don’t sell the very best tea at the train station of the outermost ring of the city where all the refugees enter taking the ferry. They have neither the money nor the peace of mind to appreciate it. Evil tongues might say that the Full Moon Bay train station is so far out that it is not even a real part of Ba Sing Se.
So, definitely not the best tea of the city.
In another life Chang So might have grown resentful with that knowledge. He might have stopped caring about his tea, being content with going through the motions, stooping so low as selling cold tea.
In this life, however, Chang So preserves his love for tea, he makes sure that it is warm, that it does not steep to long, that it is delightful and enjoyable. He takes pride in the fact that his tea is something to grant a moment of warmth and rest to those that have their lives ripped apart by the horrendous war that plagues the land, tiny and inconsequential as it may be in the grand scheme of things.
So, when a firebending tea-enthusiast enters the city there is no need for him to heat his tea in a suspicious way. He does not get caught by the keen eyes of a freedom-fighter with a burning hatred for the Fire Nation who is unknowingly in a hushed conversation with a royal of the very same country.
And when Lee returns to his tea-loving uncle Mushi it seems as if everyone involved will be able to build the life they are looking forward to.
This is a story about the preservation of good tea.