A.N.: This is my first attempt at fanfiction that isn't Harry Potter. I've always been intrigued by the relationship between Shang and Mulan. What if it had started before Shang knew Mulan was a woman in disguise?
Disclaimer: The situations you recognize are the legal property of Disney, as far as I know.
Shang knew it was wrong, but there was nothing he could do about it. Besides, his pride and his honour would never let him follow through with actions mirrored by his heart.
He was never one to dwell on romantic fantasies. He spent most of his schoolboy days studying to please his father. When he did dream of love, it was always with a woman.
What would China say? He would think late at night. He would then scold himself harshly and train harder, repeating his inner mantra: China would say nothing, for you will say nothing.
He was hard on Ping, he knew that. Harder on him than he would have been with any other recruit. He would justify his actions, his arduous training regiment by blaming it on his ambition and not his budding feelings for the runt of his troops. Feelings that shouldn't be, he would think with bitter resentment.
He tried to be distant and cold but he was drawn to Ping's unfailing drive and sensitivity, the opposite of himself. Shang was disgusted with himself when he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Ping's rather small frame and kiss the bruises away after particularly gruelling sessions. He wanted to retch his meagre rice bowl until there was nothing left in his stomach. He was not a soft man. He was strong, honourable and proud. What had he done to receive such a punishment?
Because this was a punishment. Sometimes he saw Ping looking at him and he would imagine there was more than just friendship in his eyes. It was torture. He could not risk his family's honour but Ping was not making it easy.
.:X:.
The stunt with the arrow was one of the first times he acknowledged his attraction to Ping. It made him angry. Why couldn't Ping climb to the top?! Ping was weak and Shang both loved and hated the notion. He hated Ping for his weakness as it made him an easy target. It meant Shang had to work the short man that much harder. As captain, he had to be even harder on Ping and it hurt. But at the same time, he admired Ping's weakness fondly. It created a special bond between the soldier and captain.
.:X:.
He had no other choice. He had to send Ping home. Ping just couldn't keep up with the rest of the troops. Chi Fu refused Shang's reports of progress and was ordering Shang to send Ping home. Of all the tortures I've had to endure, this is by far the worse, he thought miserably. Bitterly, he saddled Ping's horse Khan. Chest filled with rage against Ping's inability to keep up, he slapped the reins of the horse into his hand. "Pack up, go home," he said harshly. "You're through."
Ping merely accepted the reins, defeat written all over his slim face. He said nothing, not even a short goodbye to his captain. Shang retreated to his personal tent, tossing and turning as thoughts of never seeing Ping again tormented him.
.:X:.
He had done it. He had made a man out of Ping by training him and never giving up on him. He was proud of all of his troops; that goes without saying. But Ping... it was more personal with Ping. It always was. Ping was the first to climb the pole and get the arrow and the last to back down from training after that.
Shang knew he was a lost man.
.:X:.
His father was dead. All that was found was his helmet. Shang's heart stopped but refused to grieve in front of his men. In front of Ping.
Shang knelt in front of the make-shift tombstone, praying his ancestors to guide his father's spirit to them. Ping approached him.
"I'm sorry," he said to Shang.
Shang remained silent, not trusting his voice to speak. Determined to find the Hun army to avenge his father's death, he spoke swiftly and encouragingly. Ping's face stood out the most; he was the only one to show how much the burning village truly saddened him.
.:X:.
Ping had saved him. He had saved them all, at the risk of his own life, but he had risked his life the most to save him, Captain Li Shang. Now there was a possibility Ping might not survive Shan Yu's desperate attempt at revenge. Shang was fidgety with anxiety. He paced in front of the tent where a doctor was rapidly healing Ping to the best of his ability. His heart pounded loudly in his ears.
Finally, the doctor rushed out, looking nervous. The blood rushed out of Shang's face.
"How is he? Will he live?" the captain asked, little emotion betraying his fear.
The old doctor approached him and motioned for him to bend down. Curious, Shang did so and the doctor whispered in his ear. "She-... she will survive."
Shang's blood ran cold. His heart stopped beating. He stumbled backwards and ran into the tent, disbelieving. Ping awoke and sat up, the thin blaket falling and failing to cover his upper body. The bandage covered the skin, but not the familiar curve of breasts.
Ping was a woman.