The envoys returned to Baomin Shen in a dismal state. Dispite the gifts of 500 pieces of gold to each of the nearby Lowland People, neither wished to be connected to the mountainous inhabitants of Huihang, and instead turned them away whilst keeping the gold for themselves. This, as can be imagined, has been a huge blow to the nation of Huihang, who has given away 1,000 to no avail.

Once the messenger arrived at the Baomin's Court and revealed the news the officials were in turmoil. Leaders bickered over the greediness of the city-states, and whether more drastic actions should be taken place to reclaim their gold they were so rudely stripped of.

"We must prove to them that they cannot make fools of our people!" spat a Zenzhe general, known as Zhanshi. "If we have no military, these Lowlanders will never take us seriously!"

"We have not fought a proper war in many centuries," breathed the Baomin, "We cannot expect our monks to be capable of fighting the Lowlanders by their mere ninja training"

"Our men train their whole lives to fight, and they never do!" screamed Zhanshi. "Besides, we don't need to fight them, simply scare them enough for us to be capable of installing our own diplomats as the rulers of the states!"

"We cannot gain favour from Nature by pursuing pointless fights, we will be instructing them about Nature's ways!" Baomin's voice was raising at this point.

"We will never gain favour from the Lowlanders when our military is so pitiful! Why are we giving nations weaker than ourselves gold, when they have already proved themselves greedy enough to take our gold and turn us away without second thought!"

"What are you going to do about it then, Zhanshi?"

The Zenzhen General glowered at Baomin, and then a familiar, wry smile formed on his face "I will take the reins of the country from you, scoundrel!"

A gasp filled the room, and a sullen silence hung soon afterwards, as if Nature herself was shocked by the turn of events. No-one had dared defy the Baomin before, not like Zhanshi just did. No-one knew what would happen either.

The Baomin raised up, staring angrily at the proud general of Zhangshi. Slowly, intensively, the Baomin stepped throughout the room eyeing the officials, who stood as straight as possible so as to not offend the Baomin. He, coughed, then said:

"I do not approve of the young man's defiance, but I am a man of peace and courtesy. Therefore, we shall have a vote. If you want me to continue doing the great pursuit of protecting the peace of the people, keep your hands down by your sides. If you want to be led into an era of war and bloodshed, cast your hand flat in front of you."

The men looked at each other uncertainly, not sure what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened, or will happen again. In the next few moments, the whole history of Huishang - no, the history of Ma'at - will be decided.

The hands began to raise or lower, depending on what the great, almighty god Rollme Nature permitted.