"I think the ratio is off."

"Really? It seems like the right consistency t' me."

"Yeah…I think this batch is just a bit too wet to me."

"Hm. Maybe we should mix it up a bit more before formin' the bricks?"

Ling wore a frown as he looked down at a pile of what looked like strangely smooth, wet mud. "No. Let's add a bit more shale powder. I think two scoops should be good."

Yao nodded. Trudging over to a nearby bucket, he used a wooden cup to scoop out a fine powder. "We're goin' t' need t' grind up more shale soon. After this, we'll only have enough for one more batch o' bricks." Coming back over, he sprinkled the powder on top of the mud. "If we don't make 'em too wet, that is."

"That's fine. We'll need to get these first bricks fired first, anyway." He started to mix the powder into the mud, kneading it almost like bread dough.

"Yeah, but…we don't have a kiln. How are we supposed t' fire the bricks without one?"

He glanced up at him. "A kiln is easy enough to make. I can make one in a day with just some clay, stones, and dirt."

Yao snorted. "You? Make a kiln?"

"What do you think I did all day when we were kids and you were hauling things for Old Man Xiao and Chien-Po was off cooking in the kitchens?" Ling pouted. "I didn't just learn how to make bricks. I learned how to make all sorts of things!"

"Surprised ya remember how, then," he chuckled, kneeling down and once more beginning to help mix the mud together. "I've forgotten most o' the stuff I learned back then."

"It's a simple enough recipe." Shrugging, Ling picked up a handful of the mud and rubbed it between his fingers. "There we go. This is much better! We can start forming now."

Yao nodded, grabbing the wooden frames they had constructed to make sure each brick came out the same size. Thanks to the forms, they were able to make a tedious job easier and quicker. They merely needed to set the frames on the wide, stone platter, fill them with mud, and then remove the excess from the top. They repeated this until there was no more space left on the platter. After that, the wet bricks would sit outside in the sun for a few days to dry up, giving Ling plenty of time to construct a kiln.

"I'll go put these with the others," Yao said, lifting the platter with a grunt. "Is it alright if they're tipped just a bit? I don't know if there's goin' to be enough room for all the trays to sit flat."

"So long as it's not a severe tilt, they should be fine," Ling replied, dunking his hands in a bucket of water. "Thanks for your help, by the way. I really appreciate it." He started scrubbing as much of the mud off his skin as possible.

Yao gave him a curious look. "Why are ya thankin' me? Ya never thank me."

His brow rose. "Uh, because you were the only one besides Little Brother who was willing to get filthy with me in order to make these things?" He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Next time, I'll be sure to remember to not thank you. How does that sound?"

"Better."

"And you say I'm the weird one?" he murmured, shaking his hands dry.

Stepping out of the house, he looked around. It had been nearly half a year since they first reached this place, making it almost a year since they had left China. When they arrived, they had found seven houses left by the Huns who-knows how long ago; but they were in good enough condition that they only needed minor repairs.

Thanks to Su and Chien-Po, there was a large garden overflowing with various herbs and vegetables. Ling, Yao, Shang, Mulan, and Ting-Ting were to thank for the new houses—designed by Zhou and Chi-Fu—being built. Mei, Zhi, Li, and Grandma kept things clean and kept everyone's clothes tailored. And Little Brother, of course, was in charge of doling out amusement and doggy kisses.

It was almost like they had never left China.

But there was a lingering uneasiness felt throughout the settlement. Regardless of how well things were going, they were still strangers in an unknown land. Despite Zhu's assurances that the area was well-hidden from other tribes, they still barricaded the doors at night and slept with their weapons near at hand. They couldn't risk being unprepared should their luck turn.

"You and Yao sure have amassed quite a number of bricks." He was drawn from his thoughts by a voice to his left; looking over, he saw Mulan walking towards him. She had a clay jug tucked under her arm and a whetstone in her hand. "How many more are you going to make?"

"Hundreds," he replied with a smile. He then pointed at the whetstone. "Ting-Ting's chisels need sharpening again, huh?"

"Not this time. It's for the ax."

He nodded in understanding. "Finally got dull, did it? Only took—what, three, four?—trees to do it." He started to walk alongside her, resting his hands on the back of his head.

She grinned. "Five and a half," she retorted, feigning sarcasm. "Shang was so disappointed. He was really hoping it'd last for five and three-quarters."

Ling snorted. "What a pity."

Mulan quietly giggled. "How long do you think it'll take before the bricks are ready to be used? A couple of days?"

"Oh, gods no. A week at the very least." He glanced over at her, finding her eyes wide in shock. "They need to dry a few days in the sun. While they're drying, I need to build a kiln so I can then bake them. After they're baked, it's going to take a couple of days for them to cool down to the point where we can handle them. It's a long, tedious process—but, hopefully, it'll be worth it."

"I…didn't know it took so long to make bricks," she murmured. "I thought you just took mud, shaped it into a rectangle, and let it dry."

He chuckled. "Don't worry—a lot of people think that's how bricks are made. But, no. They have to bake in a kiln for a couple of hours. And the hotter the kiln, the stronger the bricks get. That's not even including getting the shale, grinding it into a powder, and so on…"

"Don't you need bricks to make a kiln, though?"

"Not always. Sometimes, you just need some rocks, a little mortar, and lots of dirt."

She nodded in understanding. "Let me guess: Stack the rocks and use mortar to hold them together, then cover them with the earth to keep the heat in?"

His brow rose, a small smile on his lips. "Sounds like you've built a kiln or two."

"Not a kiln, no," she chuckled, "just an earthen oven. Now that I think about it, though, there isn't much of a difference, is there? Kilns are just bigger and made to get hotter."

As they approached the designated woodworking area, he watched as Mulan handed the whetstone over to Shang. "…You know, I didn't even realize that until you pointed it out." He wasn't quite sure why, but he glanced away when Mulan stood on her tiptoes, kissing Shang's cheek.

"Didn't realize what?" Shang questioned before thanking Mulan as she also handed him the pitcher.

"That kilns and earthen ovens are basically the same thing," Mulan answered. "Ling was telling me how he needs to build a kiln in the next few days so he can fire the bricks."

Shang blinked, clearly surprised by this information. "You know how to build a kiln?"

"Who knows how to build a kiln?" Ting-Ting asked, pausing in her hammering of chisels to hear properly.

"Evidently, Ling does," Shang told her.

Her eyes widened as she set down her tools. "Really? You can build a kiln?"

Ling pouted and threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Why is everyone so surprised about this? They aren't hard things to make!"

Ting-Ting giggled as she came over to him. "I was just teasing you," she said, kissing his cheek. "I remember you mentioning it to me one. Do you need help collecting the rocks?"

"I might," he replied, kissing her cheek in return. He was thankful that stress of the journey had finally lifted itself from Ting-Ting's shoulders. All the traveling they had done had filled her with such strong self-doubt, it nearly drove them apart. "I'm going to need a lot of them—I have to make it big enough to hold at least two shelves worth of bricks."

A thoughtful look came to Shang's face. "Is that so? Then why don't you dig a hole—or mound up some dirt—to make a kiln?"

"The combination of rocks and dirt holds the heat in better," Mulan and Ling chorused. Not only did they surprise Shang and Ting-Ting by speaking in unison, but they also surprised themselves.

Mulan laughed. "And the two together gets the inside hotter," she added, her cheeks turning a bit pink.

"The higher the temperature used to bake the bricks, the stronger they are," Ling finished, also chuckling. "It'll be fine, though—I don't have to make it huge."

Shang nodded in understanding. "That makes much more sense. Well, good luck with your rock hunting. I have a dull ax to sharpen."

"Good luck with that. Hopefully, you'll be able to reach that five and three-quarters target!" Ling joked as he and Ting-Ting started to walk towards the lake.

His brow rose. "…Five and three-quarters?" he repeated, confused, as he sat down on a wooden bench.

"A joke," Mulan explained. "I told him you had been hoping you got the ax sharp enough to get through chopping up five and three-quarters trees, but only managed to get five and a half."

"I should have known," he smiled, rolling his eyes. Pouring some water over the whetstone, he started to carefully drag the edge of the ax across it. "On a more serious note, though: This ax is on its last legs—and it's our only ax."

She frowned. "…Can't we melt it down and make a new head with it?"

"Unless someone among us knows how to actually smith metal…I don't think so." He sighed. "Eventually, we're going to need to try and find other settlements to trade with or teach ourselves to mine and, possibly, blacksmithing. And we're going to need more meat; we can't keep living off of dried meat, fish, and game animals—well, we can, but it's getting hard for Su and Chien-Po to keep coming up with dishes we're not sick of. We need chickens, eggs, cows, pork…"

Mulan bit her lower lip. "We've been doing just fine so far," she told him. "Su and Chien-Po have been making delicious food as always. Yes, a little more variety would be nice, but it's not necessary."

"No, it's not. The metal, however? That is necessary. With things the way they are right now, we won't be able to repair our tools when they break. And without our tools, we can't build or cook."

Shaking his head, he flipped the ax over and started to grind the other side of the blade and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm…just worried. We don't know this area and we don't know if there are any friendly people within a hundred miles."

She gently rubbed his arm; she had come to learn that it was a way to help calm him down and bring him a bit of comfort. "It'll be alright," she assured him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Everything is going well. We have shelter, we have food, and we have each other. If a tool breaks, I'm sure we'll find a way to either fix it or come up with something even better to replace it."

He sighed again, pausing his sharpening. "I wish I had your optimism," he admitted, setting his hand over hers. "I guess being in the military for so long made me more of a pessimist than I thought."

"You're not a pessimist. You're just—just a realist. Which is why we're so good together: You make sure to bring me down to earth when I've got my head in the clouds." She smiled, thankful when Shang chuckled.

"And you lift me up when I've dug myself a hole," he told her. He gently pulled her down, kissing her on the lips. "Which I seem to be doing more and more as of late…"

She kissed his temple as she rubbed his arms again. "Everything will be fine," she once again assured him. "You'll see."


"This…is so disgusting."

"As true as that is, this is the easiest way to treat a hide."

"Is it really, mother?"

A laugh left Zhi's mouth as she reached into a barrel of disgustingly grey and chunky water. "It isn't so bad once you get past the smell, I promise." Pulling her arm out of the barrel, she let the sopping wet deer hide drain above it for a few minutes.

Mei covered her mouth and her nose, feeling her stomach churn at the sight of the liquid. To most people, it would have looked like the dirtied remains after washing a bunch of clothes. She knew, however, that it was grey due to containing a number of animal brains.

"Mother, I honestly don't think I can do this," she murmured, her stomach protesting even more when she caught of whiff of the barrel's contents. "I really think I'm going to be sick."

Zhi frowned, looking over her shoulder at her daughter. "Hm. What if I pulled them out of the barrel for you and shook the brains off for you?"

"I would only have to wring them out at that point?"

"Yes."

She thought for a moment, using her sleeve to cover her nose. "I may be able to," she admitted. "It's just the smell that's mostly getting to me. I could pretend the bits of brain are slugs or something, but that smell…"

At that, Zhi smiled in understanding. "Alright then. Go fetch one of my handkerchiefs and take it to Su. Have her put a few jobs of an oil of your choice on it before tying it around your nose and mouth. That should help block the smell."

Mei frowned. "But, the oil would stain your handkerchief! I can't do that!"

Waving frivolously, Zhi laughed. "Mei, love, it's only a handkerchief—not some rare and exotic piece of silk!" She carried the still-sopping animal hide over to a wooden rack. "I promise, love, I haven't a care in the world for how stained they get. Now, go on: Go fetch one and soak it in oil."

With a pout on her lips, Mei headed into the house she shared with her mother and Yao. Yao was out helping Ling and Mulan make a couple of kilns, leaving the one-room building empty, save for their belongings. It took her some time to find one of her mother's kerchiefs, but she eventually found them in the bottom of a trunk.

'I really don't want to ruin this,' she thought, inspecting the square of fabric. 'This was a gift to her from father…I don't know how she can tell me to use it without a second thought…' She closed her eyes and held it to her nose, hoping—praying—that it would have some scent of her father on it.

But it only smelled of lilies—like her mother.

Sighing, she closed the trunk and stood up. Handkerchief in hand, she went next door where she knew she would find Su. This was the house where Su and Chien-Po lived and where they made the meals for everyone. The two had wasted no time in creating racks to hang meats, herb bundles, and cooking utensils from as well as widening the fireplace and building a pit for the woks to sit in. How Su managed to still fit in the house—let alone Chien-Po—was still a mystery to her.

"Su? Are you in here?" she asked, poking her head into the house.

"Over here!" Her sister's voice came from behind a curtain of noodles that had been hung up to dry.

Her brow rising, Mei walked over and carefully parted the noodles. Su was sitting on the floor, kneading a large ball of dough in one of her massive, wooden bowls. "You're making more noodles?" she chuckled.

"No, silly," she giggled. "This is going to be tonight's dinner! It's dumpling dough!" Clapping the excess flour off her hands, she covered the bowl with a towel before standing up. "What do you need?" she asked, brushing some flour from her skirt.

Mei held up the handkerchief. "I need a few drops of jasmine or rose oil," she answered. "I'm helping mother with the animal hides and…the smell is rather nauseating."

Su snorted. "Well, yeah—those skins have been soaking in what's essentially fermenting deer and boar brains." She ducked under the noodles and cross the room.

A shudder ran down her spine. "Please, don't remind me," she murmured. "Where is Chien-Po?"

"Hunting mushrooms." She had to jump in order to reach a box stacked atop the pile of barrels and trunks in the corner. "I just hope the ones in this part of the world are similar enough to the ones in China that he won't accidentally end up poisoning us."

At that, Mei frowned. "What do you mean?"

Su glanced at her, a brow rising. "You don't think all the animals and vegetation over here is the same as back in China, do you?" she asked with a small laugh. Opening the box, she started to look through the plethora of small bottles and pots.

"Aren't they, though?"

"Gods, no!" Her eyes were wide as she looked at her sister. "There have been all sorts of differences we've seen since we left China! Haven't you paid them any attention?"

"To be fair, my mind was more focused on repairing clothing, injuries, and Ting-Ting's self-esteem," she replied, voice bland. "Paying attention to the land and its animals isn't really my 'thing'."

Sighing, Su shook her head. "Well, you should have. We could have passed all sorts of flowers or minerals that would have made excellent clothing dyes or even been good for making fibers!"

Mei's eyes widened. "…Are you serious?"

"Yes! We're in an entirely new world over here—who knows what kind of discoveries you could have made along the way?" She held out her hand. "Handkerchief, please."

Handing it over, Mei let out a disappointed sigh. "Now, part of me wants to retrace our journey to see what I can find…"

"I'm sure Yao would be willing to accompany you," she giggled. Then, noticing that the kerchief was one that belonged to their mother, she frowned. "…This is one of mother's."

"I know. She told me to use it."

"But…" Looking up at Mei, she shifted uncomfortably. "Father gave her this…"

She nodded in understanding. "I know. I'm also hesitant to stain it with oil, but she promised me she doesn't mind. It's just a handkerchief, she said."

"Well, yeah…it is, but…" She shook her head and sighed once more. "If she insists…" Pulling a small bottle from the box, she opened it and carefully dropped four droplets of fragrant oil onto the cloth. "There. Four drops of peppermint." As Mei opened her mouth to protest, she handed the cloth back over. "I know you said rose or jasmine, but neither of those can overpower the smell of fermenting animal brains well enough. They're delicate scents and, while you are a delicate woman, you need something hefty to block that smell."

Mei nodded in acquiesce. "That is true," she admitted, watching Su return the box to its spot atop the pile. "Thank you."

She moved back to her spot on the floor. "If you need more, let me know. Heavens know I have plenty of it."

"Do you have enough to dump into the barrel of liquid brains?"

At that, she snorted. "Ha! If only. No, it would take a great deal more than what I've got to cover that much of the stench."

Waving to her sister, Mei left the house. As she walked back towards her mother, she folded the two of the handkerchief's corners together before tying the kerchief around the lower half of her face. Immediately, she was overcome by the smell of peppermint and, as she breathed in through the cloth, a chill filled her mouth, nose, and lungs. She wondered if Su had put on three too many drops.

That is, until she was standing beside the barrel and found herself unable to smell its reek.

Taking the wet hide from her mother, she carried it over to a clamp that hung from a low-hanging tree branch. 'Little sister knows best,' she thought with a small smile.

Clamping the two ends of the hide together as tight as she could, she shoved a stick through the resulting loop and began to twist the hide. After a few minutes of twisting, fetid liquid began to ooze down the hide and drip onto the ground. She was careful to avoid stepping in quickly-forming puddle; she didn't want to ruin her only good pair of boots.

"You're doing a wonderful job, love," Zhi told her when she just over half the liquid forced from the hide. "And you put up far less of a fight than I did when I had started learning how to tan hides."

Mei glanced over at her mother. "It's a disgusting process," she replied. "The only reason I have been able to do this much is because of the peppermint. I haven't the slightest idea how you were able to overcome the smell…" She shook her head. "I don't know how anybody could overcome the smell."

"It's less of a drain on resources than using salt," she reminded her. "And a bit quicker, as the hides only have to soak for a day. Using salt means waiting up to a week before we can work the leather." She helped Mei twist the last of the excess liquid from the hide before removing it from the clamps.

"Is it time to smoke it yet?"

"Almost. We need to stretch it and then let it dry entirely, first. Then, after it is dry, we can check to see if we properly stretched it."

Mei's brow rose as she took one end of the hide and her mother took the other. "How will we know if we stretched it properly?"

"It will be soft and supple all over." She started to tug on the hide, nodded at Mei as a sign for her to pull as well. "Any parts not stretched will be stiff and hard."

Grunting, Mei turned the hide a few inches before pulling on the new spot. "And if that happens?"

"We soak it again and repeat this process."

"In other words: Make sure we stretched this as much as possible so we don't have to repeat this process."

Zhi laughed, the sound a bit breathless thanks to their work. "I suppose you could put it that way," she chuckled. "After you've done a few hides, it honestly is not that bad, love. The smell isn't nearly as bad if you do one hide at a time, but with just the two of us doing this, it is best to keep the rest in a barrel of the brain oils and water."

She shuddered. "I would have never thought that brains, of all things, have oil in them—let alone oil that helps soften skin…"

"Looking at them, you would think they would just be lumpy mounds of dense meat, wouldn't you?" Zhi teased. "But, no—they are light, creamy, and similar to scrambled eggs!"

Mei shuddered once more, feeling her stomach beginning to churn in protest yet again. "Mother, please…"

"I'm sorry," Zhi chuckled, an apologetic expression on her face. "You just make the silliest expressions sometimes; I couldn't resist. I promise I'll stop talking about them now."

She pouted. "I will remember that the next time Chien-Po and Shang find a fish filled with roe," she grumbled. "I will be sure they gut it in front of you. Then it will be you with the 'silly' expressions."

"Somebody's beginning to take after her eldest sister," she chuckled, a brow rising. "You are getting better with your threats."

Mei sighed. "Now if only Zhu were here to do the threatening for me…"

Zhi closed her eyes for a moment, though she continued to pull on the hide. "I do wish your sister would hurry up and get here," she admitted. "It has been nearly half a year—far longer than the timeframe she gave us."

"Maybe she was forced to winter in Mongolia?" she suggested, her voice hopeful. "I've heard the winters up there can be harsh, so it wouldn't surprise me if she had been forced to stay there longer than anticipated."

"I can only hope that is what's kept her."

Frowning, Mei paused in her hide pulling. "What do you mean? What else could be keeping her?"

"That man she said she was going to marry. She said he was the younger Mongol prince—who's to say he wouldn't have found some way to keep her trapped in his homeland?" She used the upper-half of her forearm to wipe a bit of sweat from her forehead. "Or he could have done something worse. What if he hurt her or handed her over to his brothers?"

Mei rolled her eyes. "Mother, you're letting your worry overwhelm you again," she sighed. "Zhu knew what she was doing and I'm positive she made all sorts of contingency plans."

"I have no doubts she did just that," Zhi chuckled, the sound more tired than amused. "She's like Chi-Fu in that fashion…always coming up with some sort of plan in case anything were to go wrong."

At that, Mei laughed. "I'll be sure to let her know you said that whenever she gets here."

Zhi's brow rose. "Said what? That she has something in common with her uncle?"

"Yes," she giggled. "You know how much she hates Uncle Chi-Fu."

Rolling her eyes, Zhi tossed her end of the hide at Mei, who squeaked and used her arms to shield her head from the damp hide.