Iroh drummed his fingers along the edge of his teacup as he sat in the place of his employment. The small teahouse smelled like soaked wood when he had first arrived, and the floors creaked as you walked in and out. The floors still creak, and it still smells like soaked wood, though those are now masked by a stronger smell of jasmine leaves. His drumming was mindless, to be sure, but it wasn't a distraction from boredom or an anxious habit. Iroh's drumming was contented, a pleasurable sort of experience that came with a full stomach and a roof over one's head after many weeks without either. But a thought occurred, or rather recurred to him, one that snuck into his mind too often:

You know, if you had been successful in your siege, if you had conquered Ba Sing Se? You would have burnt this place to the ground without a single pang of regret.

The old firebender's fingers stopped drumming. He relinquished the thought and turned his mind to Zuko's date. Or Junior's, rather. Iroh couldn't help but chuckle. He did like giving his nephew a hard time every once in a while, perhaps in an attempt to lighten his moods. A boy his age should not be so restricted and mature… though perhaps this is the wrong word. Jaded would be more suitable. Though I wouldn't expect less from my brother.

He stood to make another pot of jasmine. At least he can relax a little, now that the Avatar is off his mind. And that nice girl should help too… even if he did think she was a spy.

Iroh heard the doorbell tinkle, and turned to see a man—or a boy rather—walking in the front door, with a perfectly timed creak from the floorboards. He doesn't look any older than Zuko— younger even. The boy had the look of a refugee, his clothes disheveled and torn; his hair unkempt, and his eyes were turned downward, almost weighed to the floor by wrinkles of sleepless nights. Iroh—or Mushi, as he repeated to himself over and over in his mind- walked over to the weary child.

Your name is Mushi, not Iroh, Mushi, Mushi, Mushi, Mushi.

"Mushi!" Iroh pronounced with exuberance.

Wait, that's not right.

The boy raised his eyes, almost too tired to present his confusion on his face.

"I mean… Would you care for some tea?" Iroh hoped the boy-refugee would ignore the previous slip-up.

"I… yes. That sounds fine."

"Fantastic. What kind? Green, Jasmine, Oolong, maybe a nice Ginseng?"

"Uh…" The boy looked down again, slowly scratching his hairline. "Jasmine, please."

"Excellent choice! I just made a pot. Take a seat wherever you like!"

The boy walked stiffly to a table and dropped his weight on the stool all at once. His body sagged a moment before he propped himself up on his elbows. Iroh poured the refugee a cup first, and then another for himself. The boy looked quickly back and forth between his tea and "Mushi," sipping the tea slowly.

Iroh ventured, "So what brings you to Ba Sing Se?"

The boy focused his gaze on Iroh, then returned to his tea. "I'm looking for someone. Another refugee."

"I see. Many have been driven here by the war. May I ask who you're looking for?"

"He was a friend of my father's. Or… I think. They only had tea together, once."

Iroh furrowed his brow in a brief thought. This boy looks rather familiar…

It came back to Iroh all at once. He was the spitting image of a man he had met in Ba Sing Se- but at that time, he was laying siege to it. Lieutenant Rao Tsu, a man who had approached the general in his tent, wishing to join Iroh in private for tea and advice. The boy certainly shared a few features with his father, but more than anything they shared that distant look in his eye… like a hundred things distracted him all at once.

But Iroh was no fool, and he knew that revealing his identity to the young man at this point would be unwise. This boy could be looking to kill me for all I know.

"And this friend of your father's, is he here? In the lower ring? Ba Sing Se is… well you know just how large it is, but it is just as easy to be found as to be lost. There are people who can help you… if you know who you're looking for. And why."

"I know who but… my father spoke very highly of this man. He said this man helped him choose what to do with his life, helped him with his priorities… and I think I need that."

He's not here to kill me. He's genuine, I can tell.

"You're Rao Tsu's boy, aren't you."

The boy held a stunned look on his face for about three seconds, before relaxing and bowing. "It's an honor to finally meet you, General Iroh."

"Please, just Iroh. I'm no one's general anymore, least of all yours."

The boy closed his eyes, exhaled, and began. "My name is Gao Li and me, my sister and my friend are all fugitives from the Fire Nation. We've been travelling for a very, very long time, and I heard you were here in the Earth Kingdom. I've come here because…" He stopped. He sighed again, and continued, "I don't know why I'm here. I have no where else to turn and… and if you could help my father, you can help me."

Iroh ran a hand through his beard before asking, "I find that starting from the beginning of your troubles illuminates your problem and your purpose with greater clarity. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Gao Li sipped his tea. "Have you ever heard of Pailong?"