"No, no, no -this elbow needs to either be level with your jaw or slightly higher. And this arm needs to stay rigid."

"I'm trying, but this stance is really difficult to keep."

Slightly lifting Mulan's draw arm so that her elbow was more in line with her jaw, Zhu chuckled. "It will be for a while," she told her, "but that is only because I'm having you hold it. Normally, you wouldn't be holding it like this for so long."

Frowning, she glanced over at Zhu. "And I'm holding it…why?"

"I need to fix your posture. It's all wrong." Moving to her other side, she then raised her bow arm just a bit. She then gently pushed on the center of Mulan's back, making her stand straighter. "Later on, when you've got the basics down, your posture won't matter as much, but when you're first learning, there are a lot of mistakes you could make that end up with you getting injured."

Mulan let out a small sigh; her the space between her shoulders was beginning to burn. "I believe it. It seems like everything we've been learning can end up with someone getting injured."

"Combat always leads to injury." She stepped back, assessing Mulan's current posture. "Two things separate the injured from the uninjured: Speed and skill. Go ahead and relax."

She let out a sigh of relief as she slouched forward. "Right now, I have neither."

"Not true. You're gaining both, but the problem is you're still too scared to use them."

Her brows furrowing, she turned and looked at Zhu. "What?"

"You lack confidence." Drawing a single arrow from the quiver on her hip, she handed it to Mulan. "When you aim, don't look at the tip of the arrow. Look directly at your target. Keep your breathing slow; it can affect your aim."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Fast, heavy breathing moves your entire torso, which, in turn, moves your arms. Now show me what you've learned so far."

Swallowing hard, Mulan stared at her target -a tree in the distance- for a few seconds. Then, adjusting her posture, she nocked the arrow and lifted the bow. Her arm shook slightly, but she did her best to keep it still as she drew back the string. She released it.

The arrow flew through the air only to get lost somewhere in the canopy of branches.

She smiled guiltily as she looked over at Zhu. "At least I hit it…?" she offered.

Zhu's brow rose; it was clear she wasn't impressed. "No, you didn't." Her voice was dry and had a hint of rebuke to it. "But, I now know what your biggest problem is: We need to strengthen your upper torso muscles."

"I suppose that will make it easier for me to draw the bow…?" She handed the bow to Zhu when she reached for it. "Because right now, it's hard."

Now a bit of praise came to her face. "Exactly." Drawing an arrow, she had it nocked and aimed in only a few seconds. Before Mulan could even blink, the arrow was flying through the air.

There was a deep, hollow thud as it sank into the tree. A few seconds later and the arrow had been split in half by a second arrow.

Mulan's jaw fell slack, her eyes wide. "How did you do that?!" she gawked.

Zhu shrugged. "I aim for the middle."

Giving her a dry look, she stuck her tongue out at her. "Next, you'll be showing me how you can use a sword to split another person's sword in half just by aiming for the middle…"

She stared at her, confused. "…No? That's impossible. You can shatter a sword with a hard enough and well-placed strike, but I'm not nearly—Oh. Joking."

Mulan cocked her brow as they started walking back to camp. "You…really aren't good at recognizing humor, are you?"

Zhu's cheeks darkened somewhat and she glanced away, frowning. "It's different from the humor I'm used to."

"Oh? How so?" she asked. She had always thought humor was a relatively universal thing.

She remained silent for a few minutes, trying to come up with a description. "The humor here is…is more innocent," she finally said.

"Really? You must be hearing some different jokes than me, because the ones I've been hearing around camp are quite filthy."

"Filthy, yes, but it's still harmless compared to what I'm used to."

"Alright then." Mulan turned, starting to walk backwards. She wore a playful, yet challenging, grin "Tell me one of the jokes you grew up hearing. I'll let you know if it's actually as morbid as you say it is."

Again, she was silent for a bit; she knew some horrible jokes thanks to Edeco and Bleda. But they were far too dark for Mulan to hear -she didn't want to scar her. After many minutes of deliberation, she finally remembered one that may not have been too crude.

"I've always heard the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach," she started. "I find going through the ribcage much quicker," she finished, making a grab-and-pull motion with her hand.

Mulan cringed, an almost frightened look coming to her face. "That—that is disturbing…"

"I told you-" She suddenly went quiet, her eyes narrowing.

Frowning, Mulan turned around only to see Tingfei and some of his friends walking towards them. His nose was still swollen and there were dark, bruised circles under his eyes. Seeing the other two recruits, he grinned arrogantly.

"Well, well, well…if it isn't Moo-Shung's biggest losers," he said, putting his hands on his hips. He had become even cockier since his and Zhu's duel, despite having gotten a broken nose from her.

Zhu wished she had struck his jaw and broke that instead.

"I must have hit him too hard -he's insulting himself again," she replied, voice cool and calm. Despite her apparent tranquility, her knuckles were white as she gripped the bow. She had come to hate Tingfei more than she hated Mundzuc.

An extremely difficult feat to accomplish.

Tingfei narrowed his eyes, ignoring her comment. Spotting the bow, he snickered. "Looks like Zhu here is trying to make Ping competent at something!" He leaned back, now crossing his arms over his chest. "How's that working out? Not well, I take it, since the quiver's still full."

His friends started laughing.

"So says the man who can't even hit the broadside of a mountain, let alone his target!" Mulan snapped. Zhu cocked her brow, impressed by her boldness.

Tingfei's laughter suddenly ceased, his cheeks turning bright red; while he could aim a cannon well, he was rubbish at archery. "Big words from a little man who can't even keep up during marching practice." Making his voice mockingly sweet, he gave Mulan a horribly fake look of pity. "Poor wittle thing had to be carried all the way back to camp so his wittle feetsies wouldn't hurt!"

He watched as Zhu stepped forward, partially shielding Mulan. "Keep talking and we'll see just how far you can march without any feet," she coldly threatened. The look on her face was a dangerous one; it sent a shiver down his spine.

But he didn't let his fear show; he knew she could do nothing unless she wanted to end up in prison. Instead, he snorted and looked back at his friends. "Looks like Zhu here isn't too happy with us telling the truth about his boyfriend," he sneered.

At that, his friends burst out laughing, a few of them even doubling over.

Mulan bit her lower lip. Glancing down, she could see that Zhu was starting to reach for an arrow. She grabbed her arm, giving her a worried look. "They're not worth it," she quietly told her. "They're just a group of idiots, plain and simple."

"You know, Zhu, you started out as a bit of a lone wolf," Tingfei continued to taunt. He wanted her to try something. He wanted revenge for his broken nose -her bruised ribs weren't nearly enough. "So why the sudden interest in Ping, huh? He give you some good head or something? Those lips of his certainly look like they'd be good for the job."

Mulan's brow rose in confusion; she wasn't sure what 'good head' meant and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Zhu, however, knew exactly what it meant. Without looking, she handed the bow to Mulan before walking towards Tingfei.

He laughed, watching her with a false sense of security. She wouldn't dare try anything, especially when he had four other men to help back him up. She only had worthless Ping.

"You can't do anything!" he cackled. "Not unless you want to end up-"

Reaching out, Zhu snatched his face in her hand. She pulled him towards her, fingers digging painfully into his cheeks and making his lips form an exaggerated pout. Mulan leaned forward in a vain attempt to hear what Zhu started saying.

Whatever it was had to have been terrifying: The color slowly drained from Tingfei's face and terror filled his eyes. Behind him, his friends were staring at Zhu in horror.

What Mulan and Zhu couldn't see was how Zhu's eyes had, for just a few brief seconds, turned black and gold.

Finally, she gave Tingfei a shove, letting her nails claw his skin as he fell out of her grip. As he scrambled to his feet, his friends started to scurry away like frightened rats.

"They won't be bothering us anymore," Zhu said, eyes narrowing as she watched the men flee. She was positive one of them had wetted himself.

"Wh—what did you say to him?" Mulan dared to ask.

She was silent for a moment. While threatening Tingfei, she had felt an odd rush of adrenaline. She had felt fierce and unafraid. "Something that would have made a Hun proud."

Training with bruised ribs was hard.

Training in a storm with bruised ribs was even harder.

Training in a storm with bruised ribs while jumping from post to post was almost impossible.

Zhu's ribs burned as she did her best to keep running. On either side of her was a ten-foot fall into the lake below. Thanks to the storm, the waters of the lake were churning violently. They slammed against the nearby cliff face with such force, they were creating foam.

She wasn't sure she'd make it back to shore alive if she fell in.

And that was exactly why Shang was having them train in such foul weather. The fear of falling in and dying was the perfect incentive to not fall in.

But it was difficult. The tops of the posts were slick and the wind was blowing hard. Lightning would occasional split the sky, momentarily blinding her.

'You can do this,' she told herself after nearly losing her footing. 'You can do this. You survived training under Edeco and under Mundzuc. This—this should be as easy as mounting a horse!'

She leapt to the next post, cursing in pain. Only three posts remained between her and wide, solid ground. 'I can do this,' she thought, her brows furrowing.

Risking a glance over her shoulder, she could see Yao, Ling, and Chien-Po also doing their best to not fall in. Chien-Po was struggling the most; his inability to swim made him terrified of falling in, but his girth made it all too easy for the wind to throw him off balance. Yao's short legs made the wide gap a challenge for him; more than once, he found himself clinging to the edge of a post and having to scramble back to his feet. Ling seemed to be doing the best; being tall and lanky made it hard for the wind to buffet him but easy for him to hop over the gaps.

Zhu had come to notice something, though: Every time lightning flashed and thunder boomed, Yao and Chien-Po would call out to Ling. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but it happened after every strike.

'Why are they doing that?' she thought, jumping once more. 'It doesn't—'

A cry left her mouth. Her foot had slipped off the slick post, sending her tumbling towards the churning waves. Before she could do anything, she hit the water. The wind was knocked out of her; it felt like she had hit a rock.

It took all her willpower to not suck in a breath.

She tried to swim for the surface, but which way was up? Billions of bubbles obscured her vision. Her lungs were quickly beginning to burn and her head started to pound. She wasn't a weak swimmer by any means, but the lake was throwing her back and forth, further disorientating her.

Her head felt like it was going to explode. Everything around her started growing dim. She tried her hardest to keep swimming, to keep trying to find the surface—

A strong arm wrapped around her waist. A few seconds later, she was pulled to the surface where she gasped for air. She tried to gulp it in, but only succeeded in inhaling a bit of water. Coughing, she clenched her eyes shut; her head felt nauseatingly light.

When she opened her eyes, her vision swirled. Looking over her shoulder, she tried to see who had been, quite frankly, an absolutely idiot and jumped in after her only to feel another wave of panic hit her.

"Chien-Po!?" she wheezed. "What're you doing?! You can't swim!"

"No," he replied, his face scrunched up in concentration, "but I am very good at floating."

Her body aching too much for her to care, Zhu groaned.

Together, the two of them slowly made their way to shore. Chien-Po was right -he was good at floating, but he was also good at being knocked around by the waves. Zhu clung onto his tunic, instructing him on what he should be doing with his arms while she tried to keep them going in a straight line.

Their combined strength kept them away from the cliffside, though they were quickly tiring as they fought the waves. Zhu's torso was aflame with pain, but she did her best to ignore it -even if it meant possibly injuring herself. Beside her, Chien-Po was red-faced and panting; he wasn't used to such exertion. But he continued on.

And it was because of him they finally reached shore. Being a good head-and-a-half taller than her, his feet were able to reach the ground first. Though wading was just as difficult thanks to the waves, he hoisted Zhu up and walked them to shore.

Collapsing onto the ground, neither cared that they were now covered in mud. They laid on their backs, panting heavily with their eyes shut. They could hear the slapping of mud as people ran towards them, but they didn't care.

They just wanted to breathe.

"Chien-Po! Zhu! Are you alright?!"

"Are you hurt!?"

"Are you dead?!"

Zhu was unable to keep herself from laughing. Chien-Po, too, started chuckling. Finally opening her eyes, Zhu found the worried faces of Ling and Yao staring down at them.

"If we were dead, then we must be in hell," she chuckled. "You two are here."

At that, Ling and Yao burst out laughing.

Sitting up, Chien-Po let out a long, content sigh. "We are very much alive. Just barely, though." He nearly toppled backwards again as Ling and Yao threw themselves at him, hugging him tightly. "Oof!" He hugged his friends in return, smiling.

Zhu looked over at them, her brow rising and a bit of a smile coming to her lips. "Thanks, by the way. I don't think I would have been able to make it to shore. Alive, at least."

"You are welcome. I must admit, it was an instinctual thing to jump in after you. I knew I'd be able to at least help you float." Managing to sit upright once more, Chien-Po returned her smile from overtop Ling and Yao's heads. "Though, I mean no offense, Zhu, but you are much heavier than you look." Still holding onto his friends, he stood up.

Ling, however, managed to slip out of his grip and went over to Zhu.

Taking his hand as he offered her help up, she started to stand. "I've heard that before," she said, wincing. Her ribs throbbed.

"Oof," Ling grunted. "He's right -you are heavy." He reached over, brushing some mud off Zhu's shoulder.

"I'm also soaking wet," Zhu replied, brow rising slightly. "And these clothes aren't the lightest when wet." Her eyes suddenly shot open and she stumbled forward as Yao managed to sneak up on her and give her a tight hug.

Before she could react, Chien-Po came over and scooped them all up in a hug. "Wh-what're you doing!?" she stammered, cheeks bright red.

"We're hugging ya," Yao replied, his voice somewhat muffled due to being partially buried between Zhu's shoulder blades. "Or at least tryin' to."

"Wh-why?!" She squirmed slightly, trying to move just enough to get Ling's elbow out of her ribs.

She suddenly found herself very thankful for her lack of breasts…

"Because you and Chien-Po nearly died," Ling replied, his brow cocked. "Why else would we be hugging you, Mister Stunted Emotions?"

"I—I don't know…" She felt odd; her stomach felt like it was fluttering, making her feel a bit nauseous. And yet, she felt overwhelmingly…happy?

Chien-Po set them down as Yao spoke, "If anythin', you falling in like that just forced Chien-Po t' learn how to swim." He grinned cheekily, though Chien-Po's cheeks turned bright red and he pouted.

"I would have done the same if it had been you or Ling," he gently scolded. "You, especially, since you tend to sink like a rock."

At that, Yao pouted. "I do not sink!" he scoffed. "I just…I just float a lil' less than most people."

Zhu snorted, rolling her eyes. Her stomach still felt fluttery, but not nearly as nauseous now. "We should probably head back before Shang thinks all of us drowned."

"Yeah…He probably already thinks one of us is dead," Yao chuckled. He started to head back the way he and Ling had come.

"That's if he saw Zhu and Chien-Po go in," Ling said, following after him. "I don't think he did. He's all the way on the other side."

Yao dismissively waved his hand and looked over his shoulder to make sure the other three were following. "Are ya kiddin', Ling? The guy sees everything. Sometimes, I'm afraid t' take a shit because I think he'd know."

Zhu followed after Chien-Po, taking up the rear of the group. She smiled as she listened to Yao and Ling jokingly babble on about Shang knowing their every move. After a few minutes, however, she came to realize something: She was crying.

'I'm…crying?' Her brows furrowing, she unconsciously tried to wipe away the tears only to smear mud across her face. 'But I'm happy? I shouldn't be crying. Maybe this is some sort of reaction to nearly dying…?'

Shaking her head, she let out a small sigh and made a mental note to ask Mulan about it later. She had the feeling that, if she asked these three about it, they'd only poke lighthearted fun at her. Mulan, though—Mulan would actually explain to her what she was feeling.

'Or,' she thought, 'I hope she can…'