The smell of boiled chicken and carrots travels into my room making my mouth water. My stomach growls with longing and sinks with dread, as I place my folded up undergarments in my small, worn leather satchel. I look around the simple, candlelit bedroom, consisting of nothing more than a bed and wooden cupboard. Glancing over to the cupboard, I grab the jade hair comb, glistening in the candle light. Picking it up, I handle it in my hands, running my fingers along the comb teeth and delicate cream bloom before finally wrapping it in a cloth and placing it in the depths of the satchel. I place the bag behind the cupboard and blow the candle out. A hum of light from the torches outside buzzes through the small decorative cutouts in the wall. The flame from a nearby torch flickers back and forth violently against the stone wall.
"Mulan, come help your Mama with the cooking." Nainai brings me out of my reverie, and I turn to see her frail frame in the low light, her eyes glancing to my cupboard before turning to leave. I follow her into kitchen, and I walk to the cooking fire to finish the greens, as mama begins serving the baozi, and Nainai serves the tea. After setting the meal, Baba appears from a back room, and we settle on the ground and begin to eat in silence, but it is soon broken by Nainai.
"When is your general coming to eat again?" She says raising her eyebrows slightly, smirking lightly. Mama freezes, her eyes piercing into mine.
"He's," I clear my throat, "been training the newly recruited soldiers for the front up north." A buzzing silence fills the air. Knowing perfectly well the incoming questioning that I would be bombarded with if we were not eating, I force a bite of a baozi bun down my throat.
Mama lays her chopsticks down, raising her right eyebrow slightly. "Has he written to you? It has been many weeks since he last visited."
"No, I have not heard from him since," Mama's eyebrow raises even higher, a muscle in her neck twitching slightly—her only tell. "But he has probably been doing survival training in the wilderness, so he would not be able to contact anyone." Mama picks up her chopsticks but does not continue eating.
"Training is tiring but training hundreds of young boys to become men is exhausting," Baba says, hoping to relieve the tension. A buzzing in the air gets louder; my ears begin to muffle, and my stomach turns over. The buzzing gets unbearable, and I almost cry out from exasperation.
"Mulan, no man, especially the general, is going to want a wife who is constantly putting herself in danger. You saved your father; you saved the Emperor; and you saved China. You honored our name. Is that not enough? Please, dear, when you were gone your father nearly died from the stress of our only child and daughter being sent to war. Do not put us through that again! Please stay and visit the matchmaker again; I'm sure she is willing to find you a decent husband after last time. Mulan, I have heard stories of the north at market, and the Huns cannot even compare to the brutality of these-these demons," Mama's breath hitches, a small sob coming from her chest, "please stay."
"Li, please, let's wait until we have finished our meal to discuss this." Baba says holding Mama's hand as she wipes the tears from her pale, plump cheeks with the other. I look down at my half-eaten baozi, now cold. I bite my lip to stop it from quivering. I have seen men die and their bodies mutilated by enemy soldiers, yet my family can make me crumble with conversation. I glance up to find Mama poking at her food and Nainai and Baba eating silently. The knot in my chest begins tightening again until a breath becomes impossible to take.
"Excuse me," I whisper as I stand up from the table, walk to my bedroom and take the satchel. I walk out the back door to the stables, silently jogging in the torch-lit gardens. The clucking of the chickens and the sound of the nocturnal insects mesh in the still night air under the moonless, black sky. As much as Mama begs me to stay, the Emperor's orders are not optional. While my family believes I will be heading a battalion by the sea, I will be hundreds of kilometers west accompanying the three most powerful women in the Middle Kingdom.
I strap a carrier basket to Khan as he huffs with anticipation, and I peek around the stable door to check the gardens are clear of wandering eyes. I kneel down to clear the hay at the far corner of the small stable and lift the loose floorboard to reveal my gear, and I begin strapping on the leather and chain armor.
"Mulan." I jump dropping my belt strap. Nainai's huddled figure enters the stable, smiling, holding a bundle in her hands.
"Nainai, I'm just making sure it still fits for tomorr—"
"I know. You should go before your mama straps you down. I know you do not like the idea of being a wife, staying at home, locked in one place. I see the glint in your eye when you train. You love the adventure and the rush, just like I used to." She reveals a gold handled dagger, glittering in the low light of the torches, from a leather holster. She hands the dagger and holster to me, and I delicately touch the freshly sharpened blade.
"I didn't know you had this, Nainai," I say puzzled, putting the dagger inside its holster again and strapping it around my middle, under my armor.
She giggles, "Oh, there are so many things you do not know about me. You need to go on, now, before your parents begin to suspect anything." She hands me my sword from the floorboard hiding place, and I strap it tightly around my hips, finally putting my hair into a high bun and fastening a cloak onto my shoulders raising the hood over my head. "Hurry now, I'll cover for you."
I sigh shakily, my throat burning from holding back tears. "Nainai," I whisper hugging her small fragile frame. "Tell Mama and Baba I love them more than anything. I will try to write too." I pull away studying Nainai's features, imprinting her face in my mind.
"Go on now. You have no need to worry about us." She squeezes my arms and treks off towards the house, her small silhouette disappearing into the gardens. I mount Khan and ride quietly until I reach the main gate, where I look back one last time at the place that holds my everything. I breathe in and out, looking up at the pitch-black sky, and I spur Khan on into a sprint down the dirt road into the night.