And back to BBPS! Thank you everyone for being patient with me during the holidays while I was trying to get the Tuan fic up. ^_^

(It is up, btw, in case you weren't aware. If you wanna read ~14k about terrible Upper Ring holiday parties and a drunk Dai Li Director of Surveillance, go check out That Time Tuan Got Plastered.)

This chapter was fun to write. We finally get away from dead people (mostly)! And also from angst (mostly). Okay, there's still some, life is a never-ending low-key drama and all families have issues, but still, we aren't crying over people who got murdered by the Fire Nation in this one so there's that. Also, spring is pretty, and so is the Upper Ring.

Does this one really need warnings? I don't know, hmm...

Warnings for:
-Allusions to Ba Sing Se being kinda messed up
-The Dai Li generally being creeps
-Sunan's health issues being an issue with his in-laws
-Mention of body horror and cannibalism in a historical/mythological setting
-Caelum playing hard and fast with Chinese history/mythology

On with the fic!

Qingming was meant to celebrate the living as much as the dead, and today Ba Sing Se had been graced with the kind of beautiful weather that made life worth living. The cool air moved in slight breezes, flowering trees lined the streets, the sky was a delicate shade of blue, and everything was clear and bright. Rather than head straight home from the temple, the Dai family took the long way back, detouring through a park to amble through the blossoming wonderland. Winding paths lined with blooming trees led them around little hills dotted with bushes, and a babbling brook glittered in the distance. Here in the Upper Ring there was room for such things - wide open spaces for nothing but nature and the enjoyment of it, with no buildings to mar the landscape save for a few pavilions and a pagoda.

The family drifted away from each other, stringing out in twos and threes along the path - Ratana and Klahan hung back, talking quietly, while Kun and Zan hurried on ahead, Niran following after them with a mildly exasperated sigh. Sunan and Wenli slipped off to the first secluded pavilion they passed, and Quy and Roulan exchanged smirks. They smirked again when, up ahead, Zan grabbed Kun's hand and yanked him forward, towards the bridge that crossed the brook.

"Remember when we used to bring them here as kids?" Roulan asked. "We had to be prepared to drag soggy, muddy children home. Every. Single. Time."

Quy watched Kun and Zan turn off the path before they reached the bridge in favor of heading down to the stream itself. "I'm getting the feeling that hasn't changed."

Roulan pursed her lips for a moment before shrugging. "It's a beautiful spring day, and they're grown adults who can make their own decisions."

Quy snorted.

They walked in silence for a moment, passing by shrieking children and smiling elders and young lovers walking hand-in-hand. The park was busy today; now that the citizens of Ba Sing Se had fulfilled their filial duties, it was time for the Qingming tradition of a spring outing, and everyone was out enjoying the beautiful weather. A number of people were having picnics, and children ran and played in the grass. Off in the distance, Quy saw two teams engaged in a lively game of tug-of-war, and a little beyond that a group of people played earthball. Swings had been put up throughout the park for the holiday, and people were taking turns on them. A small band of musicians had set themselves up in one of the pavilions, and their music wafted over the hills.

"Do you remember the first time we brought Solada here?" Roulan asked.

Quy smiled. "Yes."

It'd been a not-unbearably-warm day, towards the end of summer and the start of Quy and Roulan realizing that they wanted the refugee girl they'd met in the Lower Ring as more than just an acquaintance. Solada had only been in Ba Sing Se for a few months and had only known Quy and Roulan for a few weeks, but one day while going over the list of neighbors she knew had managed to save artifacts the Dai Li might be interested in, she'd let it slip how much she missed space. The city was crowded, the Lower Ring most of all. She hadn't seen a field since she'd taken the train through the Agrarian Zone on her way from the Outer Wall's gate to the Lower Ring. For someone who'd grown up in a mountain village, it was a hard adjustment.

It'd been an impulsive decision - mostly Roulan's - to take Solada on the train with them back to the Upper Ring. It hadn't been easy - the day before had been one of Solada's bad days and her muscles were still sore, so they'd moved slowly. She hadn't had the necessary papers to allow her passage into the Upper Ring, either, but Quy and Roulan had taken care of that with a few allusions to Dai Li business. They'd paid her fare while they were at it, because while Solada hadn't said anything they hadn't missed the way her fingers twisted her nearly-empty coin purse.

It'd been worth it when they'd gotten her to the park, though. Solada had stared at the green, grassy fields, the leafy trees, the stream - and promptly burst into tears. Roulan had been flustered and anxiously apologetic, uncertain of how to handle the situation, but Quy had wrapped an arm around Solada's shoulders consolingly, because he had a vague idea of what she was feeling. He'd remembered how his Uncle Chien had slowly gone stir-crazy while standing outside surrounded by buildings, remembered how his mother was more relaxed whenever she was in a space that wasn't surrounded by walls. Ba Sing Se was spacious enough for those who'd lived there their entire lives, but for people who were used to fields and forests and mountains, it could be suffocating.

They'd walked through the park until Solada mentioned that her legs were hurting, and then they'd flopped down on the grass and watched the clouds go by, and Solada had smiled and laughed and breathed deeply, and if any of the Upper Ring citizens thought it odd that a foreign girl in shabby clothes was in their domain, well. They weren't going to question her when two Dai Li agents flanked her sides.

"I miss her," Roulan said, interrupting Quy's memory.

Quy squeezed her hand. "Me too."

Their reminiscing was interrupted by a shout from the creek.

"BOTH OF YOU STOP."

Quy and Roulan looked toward the water to find Kun and Zan in the midst of a standoff, each with a ball of dripping mud hovering beside their outstretched arms. Niran stood between them, one arm reaching out toward each sibling and a despairing expression on his face. Zan and Kun didn't seem to notice - their eyes were locked on each other and their grins were full of mischief.

"Hm," Ratana said as she and Klahan came up beside Quy and Roulan. "This looks familiar."

"Just a little," Roulan smirked.

Klahan sighed and shook his head. Down the hill, Zan moved in an attempt to get a clearer shot at Kun, and Niran quickly shifted to block her. "He has to know how this is going to end," Klahan said.

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Ratana said, looking their son up and down. "Why do you think he looks so resigned?"

"Those two have been making trouble since before Zan could talk. After all these years, it's pretty obvious they're never gonna stop. I'm shocked Niran doesn't just let them have at it by now."

"He cares too much," Roulan shrugged. "Besides, I'm not complaining. It's entertaining."

Klahan laughed. "True."

They watched Kun feint to the right before quickly jerking to the left, but Niran had expected the trick and followed him easily. "Just calm down and drop the mud," he pleaded.

Zan and Kun hadn't broken eye contact the entire time, and now, in the split-second that Niran had to realize the mistake in his phrasing, they exchanged identical smirks. "Okay!" they chorused.

"No, wait - !"

Two mudballs hit Niran square-on, Zan's on his chest and Kun's on his back. The brown splatters stood out on his otherwise-pristine white robes. Niran closed his eyes and sighed. "I hate you both," he said. "So, so much."

"Aw, why? We did what you said. We dropped the mud," Kun grinned. "And we're calm."

"So much."

"Yeah," Klahan chuckled, "that's about what I was expecting."

"I have no sympathy," Ratana shrugged. "He knew it was coming."

"And he really ought to know better than to give them that opening."

"Exactly," Ratana said. "Besides, it's just mud. No harm done. He's a laundry expert by now." As she spoke, Niran bent the mud off his chest, grumbling as he pulled out every last fleck of dirt. "There, see? Good as new."

Quy noted that a number of the children who'd been playing in the grass were watching Niran and Kun and Zan with interest. A few of them were slowly creeping forward, one step at a time. "I do hope they don't give those kids any ideas."

"What," Roulan said, "scared the neighbors will get upset at us?"

"I don't want to be known as the father of the grown adults who instigated a mud war, Roulan."

Roulan snorted. "Please, Quy. We're Dai Li. Who would dare complain?"

Down in the mud, Zan was chiding Niran. Neither of them seemed to notice the encroaching children. "I think you need to work on your blocking technique. You knew those hits were coming and you barely even moved."

"Forgive me for putting my faith in you two being able to act like adults," Niran sighed, reaching around himself to bend the mud off his back.

"In case you haven't heard, we are adults," Kun said. "Therefore, by definition, anything we do is acting like adults."

Niran huffed, still trying to get at the mud. It was harder to extract than the stuff on his chest had been - he couldn't see what he was doing. Zan watched him grapple for a moment before snickering. "Oh, here, let me help you with that," she said, going around him and deftly bending the mud from the fabric. The dirt pulled free from the fibers, leaving nary a stain behind.

The children had been watching quietly, but now one of them spoke. "Ooh! Can you teach me how to do that? Mom and Dad get upset whenever I come home and my clothes are dirty."

Zan, Kun, and Niran suddenly realized they had an audience. Niran blinked at the kids. "We seem to have acquired children," he announced.

Kun eyed the children with the wary look of a man who'd only ever grown up with two younger family members and hadn't had a pleasant experience with either. Zan just looked ecstatic. "Students," she said, eyes gleaming.

Quy immediately turned and started walking in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" Roulan asked amusedly.

"To obtain plausible deniability," he answered, striding forward. Half the children in the district were clustered around his daughter, and when their parents came knocking on Quy's door to ask why their kids suddenly knew peculiar earthbending techniques or some of the bloodier aspects of their country's history, he didn't want to have an answer for them.

Not that anyone would dare complain to a Director of the Dai Li, of course. But still. It was the principle of the thing.

Behind him, he heard Roulan and Ratana laughing at him, and then Klahan said something and they all started chattering, but the voices faded as Quy moved on. It looked like he'd be on his own for now, then. Deciding to see what else was going on in the park today, he let his feet carry him away from whatever strange education his daughter had planned, up and over a hill and safely out of sight of his family. He was closer to the pavilion with the musicians now, and he could hear the first notes of Melody of Plumblossoms budding, the music soft and small before slowly unfurling into a gentle tune with an even beat. People lounged on the grass, some picnicking, others just relaxing with the music. He recognized some of them as neighbors, and they smiled and nodded and said their hellos as he passed by. An impromptu dance party had started up near the musicians themselves, and a quartet of women gracefully stepped in a circle, swinging long, colorful sleeves. Quy took a moment to admire their footwork - dance had never been his area of study, but it was nice to watch - and then someone shouted "Hi Dad!" He turned to see Sunan and Wenli, grinning down at him from where they sat high in the air, and then their swing whooshed back down to earth and up again in the other direction.

Quy smiled and approached them, careful to stay out of their flight path. "There you two are," he said. "Having fun?"

"Oh, definitely!" Sunan grinned. "Why're you all alone?"

"Your siblings and cousin have caught the attention of a crowd of children, and I didn't want to bear witness to whatever happens next."

"Ha!" Sunan laughed. "Oh, boy. I'm sure it won't be too bad. Zan and Niran are great with kids, I'm sure they'll be able to handle them! Kun...not so much."

"Kun spent his formative years getting chewed on by your sister and Hoang, so we can forgive him for that," Quy said. "Also, Zan and Niran being able to handle a crowd of impressionable children is exactly what I'm afraid of."

Sunan snickered. Wenli smiled, but it looked a little wan.

Quy frowned at her. "Wenli, are you alright?"

She groaned. "I...don't want to talk about kids right now, sorry."

Sunan shot her an apologetic look. Quy just blinked, nonplussed. "What's wrong?"

Wenli groaned again. She stopped leaning into the motions and just sat still as the swing continued going back and forth, up and down. Sunan stopped as well, and the swing slowly lost momentum, the peak of its flight becoming lower and lower until it was only moving a few inches forward, a few inches back.

Quy looked back and forth between his son and daughter-in-law. "Say," he said, "are you two planning on visiting Wenli's family today, or…?"

She groaned for a third time and put her head in her hands. "I prayed for my ancestors this morning," she said. "And I left offerings at their graves yesterday."

"So...you aren't going to visit your parents," Quy surmised.

Wenli leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, her head still in her hands. "Mom's on one of her why-haven't-you-given-me-grandchildren kicks," she said. "And she's been getting very insistent about it, and I am so tired of having the same conversation over and over and over again."

"Doesn't your sister have kids?" Quy asked.

"Yes! And my brother! But apparently that's not enough!"

Sunan patted his wife's back. "I told her we could still go if she wanted to, just for a bit. But she doesn't want to at all, so." He shrugged.

"I'm tired of arguing with her," Wenli said. "And Dad doesn't say anything but he doesn't stop Mom from saying anything either so I know he agrees with her. And I'm just...not in the mood to deal with that."

"But it's Qingming," Quy said. If there was ever a day to put aside family squabbles, it was this one.

"I know it's Qingming, I know," Wenli said, lifting her head to face him. "And I know Mom's going to be upset with me, but I'm reaching the point where I really don't care anymore." At Quy's horrified look, she rolled her eyes and added, "About her opinion, spirits, it's not like I left my ancestors uncared-for! I told you, I took care of them yesterday. But I don't want to see my mother right now. Some of the things she's been saying…" She trailed off with a grimace.

"What's she been saying?" Quy asked. When Wenli didn't answer, he looked at Sunan, but his son only shrugged.

"I don't know. She's been vague about that."

"I'd rather not repeat it," Wenli grumbled. "But you know what she's been on about."

Quy frowned, confused, but Sunan's face suddenly fell. "Spirits - she's blaming this on me again, isn't she?"

"What?" Quy asked.

Wenli sighed. "...Yeah."

"Wait," Quy said, "wait, I thought your mother understood when you got married that - that - "

"That I don't want kids because I don't want kids, not because I'm worried they'll be born with a debilitating, incurable illness?" Wenli asked drolly. "Yeah. I thought she understood then, too."

"This is insulting on so many levels," Sunan muttered.

"I know, right?" Wenli said, leaning into him. "If we wanted kids, we'd have kids! If we wanted kids who definitely didn't inherit their dad's sickness, we'd adopt kids! But we just don't want kids, and my mom refuses to accept that as reality." She shrugged.

"Why didn't you tell me this was an issue?" Quy demanded.

Sunan blinked up at him. "My in-laws, my problem," he shrugged. "Also it's only become a big deal again in the last few months, and you've been...busy."

Quy grimaced. The siege had kept everyone busy. "I still would've liked to know. Maybe I could…" He trailed off, uncertain.

"What, intimidate her into shutting up about it?" Sunan grinned.

Wenli groaned. "That's the other thing - she doesn't dare complain about it in front of Sunan or you or anyone else because she doesn't want to upset the powerful Dai Li director, and then she, like...completely forgets that I, too, am Dai Li? And that I don't want to hear it? Ugh."

"Maybe we could get Reeducation to make her forget she wants you to have children," Sunan offered.

"I doubt they'd waste their time and talent on something so frivolous," Wenli muttered. "Besides, that'd be like cheating. Also I don't want my mother reeducated."

Quy thought about the Firebender under the lake, and realized that Shirong owed him. "Are you sure? Because I'm certain I could convince Shirong - "

"Don't worry about it," Wenli said, waving her hand. "I don't think it'd help, not really. I mean, maybe for a little bit, but...I just want my mom to really understand."

Sunan patted her back again.

"Sometimes parents just don't," Quy said, as comfortingly as he could. "When Roulan and Solada and I started dating all together, it certainly threw my mother for a loop."

"Heh," Wenli said. "Yeah, I can imagine. How...how'd you get her to accept it?"

Quy shrugged. "Time, I guess. And very patient explanations. We were lucky, really - Mother's always been rather open-minded. My father helped out a lot - he understood somewhat, but that was because he was Dai Li and, well, we all know about Avatar Kyoshi and her spouses. So he helped my mother understand, and over time she just...accepted it."

Wenli grimaced. "My mom's had three years to accept that Sunan and I aren't having kids."

"I know. I'm sorry. Let me know if you change your mind about reeducation."

Wenli rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

"Maybe we should adopt a kid," Sunan mused.

She shot him a betrayed look. "Sunan, I don't want kids at all!"

"I know, me neither, but hear me out! We adopt a kid. On paper it's ours. In actuality we give it to Zan, who molds it into the perfect little mini-Dai Li agent according to her whims. Niran can help too. But we tell your mother it's ours."

Wenli snickered. "That plan is ridiculous and my mother would see right through it."

"True," Sunan grinned back, "but it made you laugh."

She giggled and pecked him on the cheek. "Alright," she said. "Enough about kids, though. Come on, other people want to use the swing." She nodded at another couple a few dozen feet off, watching the dancers while pretending they weren't waiting very patiently.

"Let's go see what everyone else is up to, then," Sunan said as he stood up, gallantly holding a hand out to Wenli to help her to her feet.

"Must we?" Quy sighed.

Sunan grinned. "Maybe Zan's explained death by a thousand cuts to those kids by now."

"Or cannibalism," Sunan said. "Cannibalism's good, too."

"This is why I walked away," Quy muttered.

"Shhh," Wenli admonished them both. "This story is important!"

Zan and Niran sat on the grass before their crowd of acquired children. Quy recognized the kids from around the neighborhood; the children of minor politicians and government officials and army officers and other assorted people who were not nobility and not necessarily important but definitely upper class. Zan and Niran were animatedly telling a story with the help of little figures made of mud that they earthbent to act out the parts, while Kun lounged in the audience beside some of the older kids.

"...and so Prince Er was exiled, and he spent nineteen years wandering throughout the Earth Kingdoms with his followers," Zan was saying. "One hot summer day, when he was very hungry and their supplies had been stolen and they had hardly anything to eat, his loyal companion Ji Tuan brought him some meaty soup. The food revived Prince Er and helped him regain his strength. It was only after he had finished it that he thought to ask Ji Tuan where he'd found the meat, and Ji Tuan explained…"

"'I cut it out of my own leg!'" Niran said, and the figure that represented Ji Tuan lost an entire leg to artistic interpretation.

"Ew!" some of the kids yelped.

"I know," Zan grinned.

"He cut off his whole leg?!" one little girl gasped. "How did Prince Er not notice his friend was missing a leg?!"

"No, no," Niran said quickly, restoring Ji Tuan's leg while Zan skewered him with a disappointed look for the historical inaccuracy. "Just a part of it."

"But where on his leg did he cut it from?" the girl, who was apparently willing to think way too deeply into things, asked. "And which leg was it?"

"Most accounts agree it was his thigh," Zan said, reaching out a finger to bend a sizable chunk of earth from the figure's leg. "And we aren't sure which leg it was, but probably wherever it was easier for his dominant hand to reach."

"Was there a lot of blood? Did it hurt him? Could he walk afterwards?"

"Most likely, I would imagine so, and...hm. Well, none of the records indicate whether or not Ji Tuan had a limp afterwards, though it might have been left out…"

"Depending on where the cut was and how deep it went it's possible he would have had trouble walking," Niran added, making the little mud man hobble around. "Pretty sure he didn't hamstring himself at least, but it probably cut into the muscle…"

"So gross," one boy muttered.

"Very gross," Zan agreed with him. "But desperate times call for desperate measures, and Ji Tuan and Prince Er were pretty desperate."

"It wasn't the best era of their lives," Kun commented to one of the kids. The child giggled.

"Why didn't the prince just come to Ba Sing Se?" another boy asked. Quy recognized him as the son of a family that lived just a block away from the Dais' house. "I thought everyone who was in trouble came to Ba Sing Se."

Zan blinked at him, momentarily thrown by the unexpected question. Before she could formulate a response, however, Kun perked up. "Who told you that?" he asked, casually curious.

The boy shrugged, apparently oblivious to the dangers of Dai Li agents asking that question. "One of my mom's servant girls. She says lots of people come to Ba Sing Se because there's trouble outside the city."

"Hm," Kun said. "What's her name?"

"Fan Li."

"Did Fan Li come to Ba Sing Se because there was trouble?"

The kid shrugged again. "I dunno. Maybe? I don't listen to her much."

"Huh," said Kun, and he looked back at Zan. "So tell us, sis, why didn't Prince Er just come to Ba Sing Se when he was in trouble?"

Zan only looked slightly miffed at her brother turning her story into an intel collection session - she was mollified by the chance to educate. "Oh, well. Ba Sing Se as we know it actually didn't exist yet - it was nothing but a small crystal-mining town at the time. Prince Er's story happened a hundred years before the first wall even went up!"

"There wasn't a wall?" the boy asked, staring at her like the very concept had never occurred to him. It probably hadn't.

"Nope!" Zan grinned. "The first wall wasn't built until a hundred years later." She raised a small, lopsided ring of earth meant to represent the city's innermost wall that now encircled the palace. "Over time the city expanded, and every time it went too far past the wall they just added another one." Three more rings popped up around the first one. "By the end of the Warring Kingdoms period there was a small series of walls along portions of the border" - a few short, unconnected lines of dirt pushed up far away from the outermost ring - "but it wasn't until the First Earth Queen united the Earth Kingdoms that she consolidated those small walls into the Outer Wall and officially gave Ba Sing Se its name..." The miscellaneous bits of wall were suddenly connected, reinforced, and formed a full circle around the other rings. "And then of course the Outer Wall also underwent expansions and revisions over the years, but generally it hasn't changed much…"

Somewhere during the explanation the kids' eyes had glazed over. So had Kun's.

Zan sighed and simplified it. "Before Ba Sing Se was Ba Sing Se, there weren't any walls."

"Oh," said one of the kids. "Okay, that makes sense."

"No it doesn't!" wailed another one, who had apparently never considered that Ba Sing Se might not always have been Ba Sing Se.

"Don't worry," Zan said, as consolingly as she could to a child whose worldview she'd just shattered. "You'll understand when you're older."

"Anyway," Niran continued, "Back to the story! Prince Er was so moved by his friend's sacrifice that he promised to reward him greatly. Well, years later, after a whole lot of traveling and meeting people from other lands and fighting, Prince Er was finally restored as the rightful ruler of his land! So now he was Duke Er, and since he was in charge now his followers began asking for rewards and promotions. Duke Er was so happy that they'd supported him that he pretty much gave them whatever they asked for. But guess who he forgot about?"

"...Ji Tuan?" one kid ventured.

"Yes, exactly. He totally forgot about Ji Tuan."

"But Ji Tuan cut off his leg for him!" one boy shouted indignantly.

"Part of his leg, he only cut off part of his leg," Zan said, shooting Niran an annoyed look.

"But how could Duke Er forget about Ji Tuan?" the boy demanded.

"It's like their friendship was just erased," Kun commented. The kid next to him snickered.

"If it makes you feel better, Duke Er felt the same way when he realized he'd forgotten his most loyal supporter," Niran said to the indignant boy. "He felt pretty stupid. And embarrassed."

"So did he go tell him thank you?"

"Well...Ji Tuan had no political goals, and he felt that many of his former companions had become hypocritical and power-hungry. So he'd already left the court by the time Duke Er remembered him, and he and his mother traveled deep into the forest to live a simple life." He pulled a miniature mud mountain from the ground, and two little mud figures could be seen disappearing into it. "Duke Er sent messengers to call Ji Tuan back to court, but no matter how many he sent, Ji Tuan refused to come."

"Poor messengers got stuck with a fruitless errand," Kun said.

"Duke Er was so upset that Ji Tuan would not come back that he ordered his troops to go search for him," Zan said. "But Ji Tuan and his mother hid themselves so well in the mountains that not even the most skilled trackers or earthbenders or eelhounds could find them."

"Should've used a shirshu," Kun muttered.

"So Duke Er ordered his troops to burn down the forest to force Ji Tuan out of hiding."

"The whole forest?" a kid gasped.

"The whole forest," Zan confirmed, very seriously. The mini mountain was suddenly surrounded by fine dust clouds that swirled ominously, like smoke.

"It just kinda errupted into flames."

Zan ignored her brother. "And so for three days the forest burned until it was nothing but ashes, but there was no sign of Ji Tuan or his mother."

"Not the brightest idea, really," Kun said. "Well, no, actually I'm sure it was very bright. But still. My friend won't come out of the forest, ergo I'll just burn it down! Yeah. Sure." The kid next to him snorted.

"When the flames died down," Zan continued, "Duke Er and his men went searching for them, only to find that poor Ji Tuan had died lying against a burnt willow tree, his mother in his arms. Hidden in a hollow on the tree was a scrap of cloth that had a poem on it, written in blood, encouraging Duke Er to be a diligent ruler and create a clear and bright era."

"Qingming!" one of the kids burst out.

Zan grinned at her. "Indeed. So even in death, Ji Tuan was loyal to his friend and ruler. Of course, Duke Er hadn't meant for his friend to die - "

"He really erred there," Kun said. The kids around him giggled.

" - and was so overcome with guilt at his actions - "

"Guess you could say he realized the error of his ways."

" - that he established a festival in Ji's honor," Zan said, shooting her brother a stern look.

"And that was Qingming?" one little girl asked, eyes alight.

"Nope!" Zan said. "That was Hanshi, the Cold Foods Festival."

The girl blinked up at her, nonplussed. "I thought you were telling us the story of Qingming."

"We're getting there," Niran broke in. "So you see, Duke Er proclaimed that for the anniversary of the three days the forest burned, no one should use fire out of remembrance for Ji Tuan. The next year, during the first Cold Foods Festival, Duke Er returned to the site of Ji Tuan's tomb." Niran raised a bit of earth in the approximate shape of a turtleback tomb. Beside it a spindly tree of mud sprang up. "To his surprise, he found that the burned willow tree Ji Tuan had died against was still alive and growing well! Taking this as a sign that Ji Tuan's spirit was appeased, Duke Er proclaimed that day Qingming, and that was how we got the Qingming Festival."

"So he erected two festivals in honor of his friend."

"And that's why we remember our ancestors on Qingming?" another kid asked. "Because Duke Er remembered Ji Tuan?"

"Well, traditionally, this time of spring was used to remember and honor the dead long before Duke Er and Ji Tuan's time," Zan said. "And for a long time it was also when people celebrated the nice spring weather. So while the festivals were meant to commemorate Ji Tuan specifically, the traditions that already existed were mixed in as well. So we remember our ancestors on Qingming because we've always remembered our ancestors around this time of year, and Duke Er helped to solidify that tradition into a single, nationwide event."

The kids looked confused.

"I know," Zan said, "it's not very straightforward. But that's how it goes, generally - new traditions are born out of old ones. Qingming as we know it isn't even what it was like when Duke Er started it all those thousands of years ago - it's changed a lot over the years. Originally the Cold Foods Festival and the Qingming Festival were two separate events, but over time they were combined. And the Qingming Festival itself lasted for about a month, but over the years it's grown shorter and shorter. Now we only celebrate Qingming for one day. And for a while, tomb sweeping itself happened during the Cold Foods Festival, the day before Qingming, but that's changed. And there was this tradition where the Earth King would bestow fire upon his subjects the day after the Cold Foods Festival, to show his benevolence, but that went out of fashion a few hundred years ago..."

The kids were starting to look bored. Niran idly nudged Zan's knee.

"But anyway," Zan finished, "that's the story of how Duke Er began the Qingming Festival."

Thoroughly underwhelmed, the kids said, "Oh."

Kun snorted. "And of course we've been celebrating Qingming for over two thousand years now, so you could say that Duke Er did a good job of making sure his friend's memory never eroded."

The kids laughed. And then they were all getting up and going their separate ways, some calmly, others running and shouting. A few ran right past Quy where he stood with Sunan and Wenli, and he watched them dart over the grass with a smile. It seemed like just yesterday his own children had been so small and rambunctious.

Granted, they were still rambunctious.

Kun scooted a little closer to his sister. "So the moral of the story is, don't force someone into accepting whatever gifts you feel obliged to give them or they might end up dead?"

"The moral of the story is I'm a good sister for not clobbering you," Zan deadpanned, and she beaned him with a pebble.

"Ow! Zan!"

"Actually since it's a historical account there isn't really a moral, but you could argue that Ji Tuan and Duke Er can inspire you to be a righteous and filially pious person," Niran said.

"Heh," Kun said. "Not much of a moral, no literary themes…"

"It's history," Zan said. "History is messy."

"Yeah, I've noticed," Kun said, rolling his eyes. "It's not a story, it's just a bunch of weird stuff that happened."

Zan grinned at him. "That's what makes it awesome." Her smile fell a bit. "I don't think the kids really shared that opinion, though."

Niran shrugged. "They're kids. They're in it for blood, guts, and adventure."

"Well, you got the blood part at least," Kun muttered.

Zan shrugged. "I think it was just hard for them to deal with the...facts."

"You did have a lot of facts," Kun said.

"It's still an important story," Quy spoke up, and he extended a hand down to Zan to help her to her feet. "It's good that they heard it."

"I just wish I'd had more time to figure out how to tell it," Zan said as she stood. "It was always great when you and Mom told it, even with all the facts. I always listened."

"That's because you're a nerd," Kun chortled.

Sunan lightly kicked his brother. "I always listened too, you know."

"You are both nerds," Kun said, retaliating by grabbing hold of Sunan's leg.

"You're five!" Sunan said, attempting to break free. Wenli laughed at her husband's predicament, stepping back to stay out of Kun's reach.

"No, I'm just an opportunist," Kun said, anchoring his brother in place. "And you're a dork."

"Oh, yeah? Well you're outnumbered!"

"Haha, well you're - wait, what? Oomph!" Kun gaped like a fish when Niran suddenly dogpiled on top of him. The ensuing kerfuffle resulted in Sunan getting dragged to the ground.

"...Anyway," Zan said, turning her attention from the wrestling boys. "I'm sure I could figure out a way to keep the story historically accurate and engaging…" She trailed off, frowning.

"Face it, sis," Kun grunted from where Niran had him and Sunan in headlocks. "Historical timelines just don't lend themselves well to good storytelling. They're never clear-cut enough."

"Says the guy who doesn't even work with history!"

"Nerd!"

Zan stuck her tongue out at him.

"I despair of any of you ever acting like adults," Niran sighed. "I really do."

Sunan snickered. "So," he said conversationally, despite being pinned. "I think I'm all spring outed for the day."

"Agreed," Quy said, sighing at his children. "I'm going to go find your mother and your aunt and uncle."

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are always appreciated! ^_^

Some notes...

Spring outings are a Qingming tradition, as are swings, sports, music, and other fun outdoor activities, but confusing children with historical rambles is probably not.

I can't link to the Three Variations on the Melody of Plumblossoms music here, but you can see the link in the AO3 version of this author's note, and I'll post it to the gilded-green tumblr momentarily.

Feel free to pity poor Fan Li, the randomly-mentioned chatterbox servant woman who's gonna get a visit from the Dai Li in the near future.

Also feel free to pity Kun, who is only three and four years older than Zan and Hoang respectively, and thus did indeed spend much of his childhood getting chewed on by babies. Part of him will always be grateful that Sunan and Wenli don't want any.

I guess we can kinda pity Niran, who was also chewed on by small children throughout his youth, but really don't feel too bad for him, his lifelong role as a babysitter gives him purpose and he secretly revels in it.

The story of Duke Er and Ji Tuan is basically copy/pasted from the story of Duke Wen of Jin, aka Prince Chong'er, and his loyal servant Jie Zhitui, albeit with name changes cuz I felt skeevy using the names of actual historical figures. Same with the long history of how the Cold Foods Festival and Qingming were separate, then combined, then changed a ton over the millennia, because history is never as straightforward as we like to simplify it. Duke Wen's story took place in Ancient China's Spring and Autumn period, and I like to think Ba Sing Se was established during the Earth Kingdom's equivalent of the Qin Dynasty, so Duke Er's story takes place about 2500 years pre-series, before the city had any walls, during a time period I'm still probably going to call the Spring and Autumn period in the Avatarverse.

This story is almost done! The final chapter will be posted next week. After that, I think I'm gonna try to finish another fic I've been working on, because I've had good luck recently getting stories done that I've had in my WIPs folder for years. It's not GG 2 - actually, it's not GG at all, though it can kinda be counted as a prequel I guess? - and it's about the Fire Army dealing with the horrors of snow during the first winter of Iroh's Siege while the Earth Army watches with popcorn. It's exactly as cracktastic as it sounds.

See you all next week!