A/N: I took a few liberties with canon dialogue, as this takes place during the second half of the movie.
"Let's hear it for Ping! The bravest of us all!"
Ling wasn't the most eloquent of men, but in this case Shang could not imagine any words to be truer. Ping smiled weakly up at him, then fell to his knees, crying out in pain. His hand clamped over his side and his fingers came away slick with blood. With a muttered curse, Shang rushed to his side. How could he have not noticed before?
"He's wounded! Get help!" There were muffled shouts above them as someone tracked down the medic. Shang turned back to Ping. "Hold on, Ping. Hold on." Ping's eyes rolled up in his head as he passed out. Shang caught him as he slumped over. Shang picked him up easily and marveled at how light the man was, even fully armored. Ping was so slender and delicate, his features almost feminine. He was really no older than a boy.
"Set up camp!" Shang commanded, and there was a flurry of activity as the soldiers obeyed. Shang himself carried the wounded Ping to the medic's tent and hovered while the medic began stripping off his armor. Finally the medic had had enough and shooed him out to wait with the rest of his men. Shang paced, sneaking glances at the three soldiers Ping hung around with the most. Ling drummed his fingers on his knees, eyes wide as he stared at a fixed point in the snow. Chien-Po sat serenely with his hands folded in his lap, his lips moving in a silent prayer. Yao simply looked like he was ready to punch something - but then again he always looked a bit like that.
It seemed an eternity before the medic emerged from the tent and beckoned Shang forward.
"How is he?" Shang said immediately. The medic gave him a grave look, and Shang's stomach clenched. If Ping were to die saving his life . . . Shang didn't know if he was prepared to shoulder that burden, not so soon after his father's death. "What? What is it? Tell me."
"Your wounded soldier is a woman," said the medic. Shang jerked back like he'd burned him. No. It couldn't be. He ducked into the tent. Ping was lying on his back on the cot, a blanket pulled up to his neck. He blinked twice, focusing on Shang, and sat up. The blanket fell to reveal a binding that couldn't quite disguise the swell of a female chest. Shang stared in shock. He felt Chi Fu shoulder past him, and Shang might have been appalled at the counsellor's impertinence if he weren't still reeling from the revelation that one of his best soldiers - the bravest of them all - was, in fact, a woman.
Shang turned away, feeling sick. He needed air; he needed to think! He could feel his soldiers' eyes on him, expecting an update on their comrade's condition. They did not have to wait long. Chi Fu dragged her out of the tent, yanking the tie from her hair and shoving her to the ground.
"A woman," he spat. "Treacherous snake."
Dazed, Shang was struck by the defiance in her eyes as she gazed up at them, clutching the thin blanket around her as the cold crept in. "My name is Mulan," she said. "I did it to save my father."
What a shame, thought Shang as he approached her horse and drew her own sword. Her friends jumped to their feet and rushed forward, but Chi Fu stopped them with a raised hand. Shang barely heard Yao's hoarse cry for mercy.
Her sacrifice was understandable, though foolish. She knew the law and in some odd way, that made her actions all the more admirable. But then, what did it say for his own actions? Shang knew what he must do, but oh, how he wished it was not the case. He hesitated, the sword held aloft, looking down at her as she crouched in the snow.
Her eyes were fierce. Even facing death, she was braver than most. The bravest of them all. Shang steeled himself. Mulan had made her choice months ago. It was time to make his. Shang threw the sword at his feet. "A life for a life," he said darkly, "My debt is repaid." He turned away so he did not have to see those dark eyes filled with such fire, burning away the layers of him to see into his soul. "Move out."
Chi Fu dared to question him. Shang turned his furious gaze to the counsellor, who flinched away. "I said, move out."
The caravans creaked and the snow around them dissipated as they carried onwards. It was a subdued troop that cleared the Tung Shao Pass. Even as the Imperial City appeared on the horizon, the soldiers couldn't bring themselves to cheer. Shang, too, was distracted, lost in his own thoughts about the events that had transpired in the mountains. He wondered if Ping - Mulan, he reminded himself, her name is Mulan - was even still alive. Shang smiled at the thought. If anyone could survive the Tung Shao Pass with nothing but her wits, it was Mulan. After all, she had bested him in training more than once and saved his life in the avalanche. She was a woman, and still she was the bravest of them all. Had he done the right thing? Shang wasn't sure there even was a right answer to that.
So engrossed in his thoughts was he that when Mulan called "Shang!" and reigned her horse in beside him, Shang almost thought it was a dream; in fact, he wished it was. How could he face her after leaving her to die in the mountains? A slow death from hunger or the elements instead of the honorable death he had denied her? But, he thought selfishly, he had to see her again.
"Mulan?" The sight of her stole his breath away. Shang was instantly embarrassed by the depth of his relief.
"The Huns are alive; they're in the city," she said urgently.
"You don't belong here, Mulan," he said, a little more harshly than intended.
"I saw them in the mountains. You have to believe me!"
"Why should I?"
There was that fierce look again.
"I fought for you, I bled for you, I saved your life twice. Not a week ago that would have meant something to the captain I knew."
"I am still that captain," Shang said with a scowl, "but you were never the soldier I thought I knew."
"I haven't changed, Captain. Only your perception of me has." She narrowed her eyes. "You said you'd trust Ping. Why is Mulan any different?"
Shang said nothing.
"Keep your eyes open," she warned. "The Huns are here. Yah!"
She rode away, rebuffed by the soldiers she had once called her comrades, and Shang was sorry to watch her go.
Shang's heart sank into his shoes when Shan Yu's sword was ripped from his hands. Mulan had been right - damn her! Everything happened so fast. Shang barely had time to draw his sword before he was bowled over by Hun thugs, the air knocked from his lungs. He lay prone for a moment, trying to catch his breath, but by the time he had the Huns had already barricaded themselves in the palace with the emperor at their mercy.
Shang wildly remembered Ping's - Mulan's, he reminded himself - harebrained scheme in the pass as she tore the last cannon from his hands and charged headlong at the Hun army. We could use another crazy idea like that right now, Shang thought. His men joined him at the top of the stairs.
"Come on! We've got to get inside!" He and a dozen soldiers had turned an immense stone statue into a battering ram when a sharp whistle caught their attention. Shang turned his head.
"I've got an idea," Mulan said, and jogged away around the corner.
Without hesitation, the three soldiers to Shang's right stepped away from the barricade and followed Mulan. Shang's legs buckled as he took on the added weight. He couldn't help but admire their devotion. In spite of everything, those three - and of course it was always those three - would drop everything to blindly follow Mulan into battle. They trusted her completely. Maybe they were the brave ones.
"You said you'd trust Ping. Why is Mulan any different?" Her words echoed through his mind.
Shang barked the order to drop the barricade and stand down. His men retreated down the stairs to manage the crowd. Shang resolved to trust Mulan as completely as he once trusted Ping. The emperor was in danger - his safety was their only concern. Shang's pride and shame could wait, and maybe in the end he would find they weren't so important after all. He took off around the corner.
He wasn't prepared to find Mulan dabbing white face paint over Yao's perpetual black eye, or Ling fanning himself, or Chien-Po adjusting his skirts. But if this was Mulan's idea, he would follow her wherever it lead. As he approached, the soldiers wrapped their shawls around the supporting posts that held up the veranda above. Shang chuckled. The arrow.
Shang touched her shoulder, like he wasn't quite sure, and she turned. With one smooth motion, Shang unhooked the scarlet cloak from around his neck and slung it around the post in front of him, mimicking his soldier's actions.
"I'm sorry, Mulan," he said. "Forgive me."
Mulan's smile was as bright as the fireworks above them.
"It's forgotten, Captain," she said. "Now, let's go save the emperor."