When Zhu woke up, all was white.
A quiet sigh left her mouth as she lay there, listening to the sounds around her. She could hear the gentle snoring of Su beside her and the sleep-murmurings of Mei on the far side of the tent. She couldn't tell if Ting-Ting or her mother were still in the tent or if they were already awake.
Thankfully, she had known she would wake up without her sight. Sitting up, she felt around the ground with her left hand until her fingers brushed against smooth wood. She slowly stood up and, with the walking stick in hand, made her way out of the tent.
As she stepped out, she was greeted by the warmth of summer sun on her skin. She was glad to find that it was daytime; it could be hard to tell without her sight. Some yards away, she could year Ling tiredly chatting with Chien-Po as they made breakfast.
"Good morning, Zhu," Chien-Po chirped as she approached. Seeing her with the walking stick made him frown just the slightest bit. "The new moon has arrived already? I thought we had another night or two…"
"It's hard to keep track of time when you're traveling," Ling yawned. "You only really know if it's day or night…and that can be tricky if you're traveling through bad weather."
Carefully, Zhu sat down. She wasn't quite sure if she was close to the lieutenants or not. "And it does not help when some months seem to be shorter than others."
"Those are both true," Chien-Po agreed. Zhu heard the crunching sound of vegetables being chopped and she wondered what he was making. "But, we shouldn't have to worry about it too much longer. Shang said that we should be less than a week from Tianshui."
Zhu blinked. "Already?"
He nodded, momentarily forgetting she couldn't see him. "Yes. Evidently, he found a crossroads when he went scouting earlier—a crossroads that isn't terribly far from the village."
"Well, that's good to hear!" Ling grinned. "The sooner we can sleep in real beds again, the better."
"That's if the house is furnished," Chien-Po reminded him. There was suddenly a loud hissing sound and the air filled with the scent of searing onions.
"It's furnished," Zhu assured them. "Both the house and the servants' house should be entirely ready for us when we arrive."
Chien-Po and Ling exchanged confused glances. "Servants' house?" they repeated.
Her head tilted somewhat. "Yes…? The three of you and I will be living in the servants' house, since we'll be under the guise of being servants to my mother and sisters. Didn't Shang tell you of this…?" She did her best to not cringe at the sound of a metal spoon scraping against a metal pot. How hadn't she noticed how grating it was on the ears before this?
"He did tell us that we were going to be farmhands and the like," Chien-Po explained, "but he didn't say that there would be an entirely separate house for us."
Ling shrugged. "It makes sense, though. We're not exactly the same rank as Zhi and her daughters—and we definitely won't be once we start acting as servants. But." He looked at Zhu. "Shouldn't you be staying in the main house? You are Zhi's daughter, after all."
A dark look briefly passed over Zhu's face. "No," she answered. "I will be acting as a servant as well and staying in the servants' quarters."
"But aren't you going to be like a handmaiden or something? They tend to be more important than farmhands and gardeners."
She let out a small laugh. "A handmaiden? Ling, what about me gives you the impression that I would know how to be one of those?" She shook her head, still chuckling. "I'm to be the stablemaster."
"…Over just two horses?" Chien-Po frowned. "That seems…odd."
Zhu tilted her head again; she could hear either him or Ling starting to slice something. "There will be a total of eight horses. Once we arrive, I'll be purchasing some for you, Yao, and my sisters."
"That makes much more sense," he told her. "A little smaller than that, Ling. Thank you."
"What's he cutting?" Zhu questioned.
"Open your mouth," Ling said before Chien-Po could speak, "and you tell me."
With her brows furrowed, she cautiously opened her mouth. As something landed on her tongue, she closed it again and slowly started to chew. A few seconds passed before her face screwed up in disgust. She swore and spat the food onto the ground. Ling burst out laughing.
"Ugh!" She spat again, the taste lingering in her mouth. "Why did you do that!? You know I hate hardboiled eggs!" She shuddered and wished she had something to wash away the flavor.
"You wanted to know!" Ling cackled. Chien-Po was relieved to see that he had set the knife down while laughing. The last thing Ling needed was to further hurt himself. "Oh gods, I wish you could have seen the face you made! It was priceless!"
She narrowed her eyes, pouting. "And I'm sure the face you'll be making when I force some shrimp into your mouth will be even more priceless."
Though he knew she couldn't see it, he grinned broadly. "Good luck with that. Shrimp are hard to come by this far inland."
"Then it's a good thing Su made sure to pack a barrel of dried shrimp," she replied, her voice dry and her brow raised. She heard Chien-Po stifle some laughter.
Ling let out a nervous laugh. "Very funny, Zhu."
Her brow remained lifted, though she said nothing. She knew her silence would be enough to make Ling take caution the next time it was Zhu's turn to help prepare a meal.
"Ling, I need you to start cubing the pork belly now," Chien-Po said, an amused smile on his lips.
"O-Oh, right," he mumbled before using the back of his knife to push the bits of chopped egg to the side of his cutting board. He then picked up a slab of cured pork belly and, using his bound hand to hold the very end of the meat, started to slice off thick slices.
"What're you making?" Zhu asked, pulling a knee to her chest. She winced slightly; her chest was still sore from the battle with the bandits. "It smells good."
Adding a bit more oil to the wok, Chien-Po used the metal spatula to stir its contents around. "A sort of breakfast fried rice," he explained, not noticing Zhu scrunch her nose up at the sound of metal scraping metal. "Right now, I have carrots, onion, and some bok choy cooking away. Once Ling's finished with the pork belly, that'll go in and render out some fat before I add in the rice."
She nodded in understanding. "Sounds like it will be good…except for the hardboiled eggs."
He chuckled. "Those will not be added to the wok itself," he assured her. "I will let the others serve themselves the egg."
"Why aren't you doing scrambled eggs? Isn't that the traditional way?"
"It is, but we had a few eggs leftover from last night and I would rather not waste them."
A small frown came to her lips. "You used them in last night's dinner?"
"Su and I made sure your bowl had none." He glanced over at Ling. "Just like we made sure not to put any dried shrimp in Ling's or any beansprouts in Yao's."
"We're such a picky bunch of eaters, aren't we?" Ling teased, wearing a cheeky grin.
"You can be, yes," he admitted. Zhu nearly jumped as the wok started to loudly hiss; the smell that instantly followed let her know the pork belly had been added. "But it makes for an interesting challenge when coming up with meals. Though, I must be honest: I am extremely grateful that you and Yao have gotten over your distaste for soy sauce."
"Wait, what?" Zhu 'stared' in Ling's direction. "You two used to not like soy sauce?" She was confused by this confession; the Chinese loved their soy sauce. 'At least,' she thought, 'that's what it seems like…'
"It was too salty for us when we were kids," he explained. "And, sometimes, it was the only seasoning our food got if whoever made the meal was lazy—and they almost always just threw in a bunch of the stuff without measuring." He shrugged. "On days like that, it'd give us bad headaches. I mean, we like it now, but that's because Chien-Po—and Su, for that matter—know how to use restraint when using it."
"That makes sense." More sizzling filled her ears and she wondered if the rice had now been added. "I had only had it maybe twice before I went to Moo-Shung, but it's also not terribly common outside of China."
"What kind of foods do the other parts of the world have?" Chien-Po asked her.
She was silent for a moment as she thought back to her past. Much of it was a blur, especially in regards to the foods she ate in foreign lands. She had been very young when they had traveled to the furthest reaches, but many times, she had simply been too tired after training to eat very much, let alone notice what it was she was eating.
"Hm. I remember a heavily spiced lamb dish we ate in the palace of an Arab prince," she finally said. "It was covered in a thick, yellow sauce that had a tangy flavor. I remember it being really good, though; whoever had made it had cooked the lamb in such a way that it practically melted in your mouth.
"In the Roman Empire, they had this strange vegetable that looked like a giant thistle. They would remove some outer leaves and its center, stuff it with…bread and herbs, I think? And then they would bake it. I didn't like it too much, but my uncle loved it."
Ling and Chien-Po glanced at one another. It was still strange for them to hear Zhu talked about Shan Yu as if he were a normal human being.
"Then there was a disgusting dried fish we were forced to eat for months after visiting the Frankish Empire," she continued. "The fish had to be soaked for something like three days before it became the slightest bit edible. The water had to be changed at least twice a day, otherwise whatever it was that preserved the fish could linger in the meat and poison the eater."
"That sounds horrifying!" Startled by the new voice, Zhu blinked and turned her head away from the two lieutenants. "Why would someone preserve food in poison?" It was Mulan who spoke. "Did they have some sort of death wish?" As she sat down beside Zhu, she took care to not sit on the walking stick.
Zhu shrugged. "It was easier than salting it, I guess," she said. "Good morning, by the way. Did you sleep well?"
"Morning to you, too," she chuckled. "I slept alright. Yao's snoring was a bit louder than normal."
Ling let out a sigh; it sounded surprisingly concerned. "Yeah, I forgot to make sure to roll him onto his side," he told them. "I usually do that before I hit the hay, but I was so tired after my watch, I just went straight to my bedroll."
"I've noticed that," Zhu said. "Why do you do that?"
"When Yao sleeps on flat ground, his snoring gets quite bad," Chien-Po explained, "and sometimes, he doesn't breathe for nearly half a minute. If he has pillows or sleeps on his side, however, that doesn't happen."
Mulan's eyes widened in shock. "What!? Why does he stop breathing?!"
"No idea," Ling said with a shrug. "He's done it his whole life. But, like Chien-Po said, he doesn't do it if he's on his side or has his head lifted. Only when he's totally flat."
'Sounds similar to Ruga,' Zhu thought. 'There were times I had to hit him to get him to start breathing again…'
"There," Chien-Po chirped. "Breakfast is done. Ling, can you make Zhu a bowl while I go wake Shang and Yao?" He started to stand up. "An eggless, bowl," he added.
"Sure thing. How much do you want, Zhu?"
"Um…three-quarters of a bowl?"
He noticed the uncertainty in her voice. "You don't sound too sure about that."
"I—I don't know the size of the utensil being used." Her cheeks grew a bit warm; she knew she shouldn't have felt embarrassed, but she felt it regardless.
"Oh! It's the medium metal spatula—the one that's about the size of your hand with your fingers held together."
A thankful smile came to her lips when Ling made no comment about how odd her statement was. In fact, she was rather surprised that he actually described the size of the spatula for her. "Thank you. Two smallish scoops then."
"Two smallish scoops of rice and absolutely no eggs for Zhu. How much for you, Mulan?"
"The same, but with eggs." She stood up, moving to get some chopsticks for herself and a spoon for Zhu.
"Sure thing. Bowl incoming, Zhu. No eggs, I promise." As he leaned over, he watched her hold out her hands. "Mulan's getting you a spoon." He made sure to lower the bowl into her palms, waiting for her to take its weight before letting go.
Feeling the weight and warmth of the bowl against her palms, she started to pull it towards herself. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. And here comes Mulan with your spoon delivery."
Mulan's brow rose as she came back and placed the spoon in Zhu's bowl. "Spoon delivery?"
He nodded. "Yep. Here's your bowl, by the way. Is that enough egg or would you like more?" He held her bowl out towards her only for her to take it.
"Perfect amount, actually. Thanks, Ling."
He proudly puffed out his chest. "Unlike Yao, I can actually be helpful when it comes to cooking!"
"So long as you're not the one doing any actual cooking," Zhu said, having shoved a bite of rice into her cheek. She chewed the bite and swallowed it before continuing. "Don't think I don't remember how badly you burnt the chicken last week."
Ling pouted, his prideful posture deflating. "Well, you didn't have to go and remind me about that," he said. "I swear I had only left it for two minutes! How does chicken burn that badly in two minutes?!"
"At least you didn't burn down half a tree like Yao did," Mulan giggled.
Zhu's brow furrowed. "Yao burnt half a tree…?"
"Let's just say that Yao is never going to be allowed to do any sort of cooking for the rest of his life," Ling chuckled.
When Shang said they were less than a week from Tianshui, he actually meant they were only two days from the village. This greatly pleased the travelers; they could finally sleep in proper beds again and take real baths instead of splashing around in chilly rivers.
But it also meant they now had to be extra cautious when speaking to Zhi and her daughters. One slip of the tongue and rumors could start traveling around China that its Empress and princesses were hidden away. Not something they needed after already being ambushed.
"How far from your home are we going to be?" Zhu asked, riding alongside Mulan. Still blind, she was unable to see the sprawling village ahead of them.
"Fairly close, if I recall correctly," Mulan answered. "Maybe even right across the road…to be honest, I didn't really pay attention to the development of the area. I just thought someone normal was finally going to put the land to good use."
"Normal people are going to be putting it to good use," Shang reminded her. As he spoke, he looked over his shoulder to find the princesses with their heads hanging out of the carriage; Ting-Ting, chopsticks shoved up her nose, was making her sisters laugh. "They're just…Not as normal as everyone else."
"That's one way of putting it," Mulan giggled. She looked back over at Zhu, noticing that she looked a bit uneasy. "Is everything alright, Zhu? You look worried."
Zhu shook her head. "Everything is fine," she assured her. "I'm just a bit nervous is all."
"Nervous?" Shang questioned, brow rising. "Why are you nervous?"
She felt her cheeks grow a bit warm. "I'm wondering if anyone will recognize that I'm—that I'm half Hun."
Mulan frowned. "I doubt that'll happen. No one in my village has ever seen a Hun."
Zhu turned her head in her direction. "Save for your father."
"True, but I highly doubt he'd know you're half Hun."
"He might," Shang said, earning a small glare from Mulan. "She's taller and broader than us. Combined with the fact that she has an accent, it's not hard to piece it together."
Mulan rested her fists on her hips. "We could just say she's from a different part of China!" she argued. "Or we could simply tell people to mind their own business if they ask where she's from! Don't you think it's a bit nosy if people ask questions like that?"
To her surprise, Zhu started to quietly laugh. "Mulan," she said, voice gentle, "your father saw my father close-up. A face like Shan Da's isn't one you easily forget. Especially when he had these eyebrows." She pointed at her own forehead.
She was silent for a moment. "We could shave them?" she suggested. "Or pluck them a bit. It's not uncommon for women to remove their brows and put painted ones in their place, after all."
"Her sisters tried that already," Shang told her. "It…didn't go terribly well."
"Why not?"
Zhu frowned, her eyes narrowing somewhat. "I will endure all manners of pain from wounds received on the battlefield," she said, "but I will never allow myself to go through the pain of having both my eyebrows plucked from my face again."
Covering her mouth, Mulan did her best to hold back any laughter. "You—you really let them pluck them off entirely?"
"Yes. And, to this day, I still regret it."
"I'm sure whatever eyebrows they drew on you looked just fine!"
"It wasn't the drawn-on eyebrows that bothered me," Zhu sighed. "It was the hour of burning pain followed by bruising that had to be hidden under white powder and rouge and dai." She furrowed her brows, her nose somewhat scrunched up. "I looked ridiculous."
"You did not," Shang assured her. "You looked like every other woman of noble birth."
Mulan blinked. "Wait—wait, you actually wore a full face of makeup?"
She let out a heavy sigh. "Yes. And the white powder used to cover my face burned. I didn't so much mind the rouge or the dai; they were fine if I wore them without the powder."
"But why did you have to wear the makeup in the first place? You're not a member of the court and you're not a noblewoman…Did you have to go see a matchmaker?"
Zhu's brows furrowed deeper. "…Matchmaker? What is a matchmaker?"
"Exactly as it sounds," Shang answered. "She's a woman, usually married and middle-aged, who is sought for by a family who can't find a bride or groom for their child."
"I had to see one," Mulan sighed. "It…It didn't go well. She said I may have looked like a bride, but I would never be one. Nor would I ever bring my family honor…" She saw the concerned looks both Zhu and Shang now wore. "That was before I took my father's place," she assured them. "I—I may have accidentally set her on fire during the interview portion."
"Ha!" Zhu grinned broadly. "She sounds like a woman who deserves to be set on fire." She 'glanced' over her shoulder when she heard the others burst out laughing. 'Ting-Ting or Ling must have told a good joke,' she thought.
"Perhaps she is…she's well known for her sternness and crotchety nature," Mulan said, smiling as she also looked over her shoulder. "The Huns don't have matchmakers, then?"
Shaking her head, Zhu adjusted her helmet. "No. Most of the time, the family of the bride would negotiate with the family of a potential groom. Sometimes, a couple who truly loved each other were permitted to marry even if they had other suitors wanting to marry them. I, on the other hand, was promised to potential allies in order to gain their favor."
Shang and Mulan stared at her, eyes wide. "W-wait, you were engaged?" Shang stammered.
She shrugged. "A handful of times, yes. But my uncle let me put forth the condition that my future husband had to defeat me in combat in order to marry me," she explained. The two were shocked by how casually she spoke about such a thing. "Most of them I defeated with ease. Which was an embarrassment to them because, at the time, I hadn't yet seen fifteen summers."
"And…the others proved to be a bit more of a challenge?" Mulan asked, brow slowly rising.
"No. Only one was able to defeat me," she admitted with a sigh. "But we were never married. After the initial treaties were made and men added to my uncle's army, there wasn't any time for us to marry. Thank the Earth Mother for that."
Mulan bit her lower lip. "But how was he able to defeat you? You're one of the best warriors in China."
A half-hearted smile came to Zhu's lips. "I made the mistake of letting him choose the combat we would partake in. He picked sword fighting." She heard them both quietly 'ooh' in disappointed distaste.
"Shan Yu's army is dead and all of his elite were executed, so at least you don't have to worry about him anymore?" Mulan offered.
Zhu 'glanced' in Shang's direction, her face expressionless. Shang stared straight ahead, though, his lips clamped together and his eyes fixed on the approaching village.
Mulan frowned. "What aren't you telling me?" she demanded.
"The man I was supposed to marry is very much alive," Zhu said, voice quiet. "He, along with another one of my uncle's elite, was able to escape the Emperor's dungeons. But whether he knows I'm still alive or not is unknown."
"Wh-what?!" Mulan squeaked. "How was he able to escape!?"
"He is a master of stealth and of trickery," Zhu explained. "He's the one who trained me, in fact."
She bit her lower lip again. "Which one is he…? And who was the other who escaped?"
"Do you remember what the elite look like?"
"Yes. Three of them were large; two were twins. There were two others; a man with deformed legs and a man with long hair."
Zhu nodded; she felt an ache fill her chest as she remembered their faces. "Mundzuc, the one with long hair, was the one who defeated me," she sighed, "and Roua, the twin with hair, was the other who escaped."
Feeling her eyes beginning to sting at their memory, she swallowed her sorrow. 'They were bad people, Zhu,' she told herself. 'They found joy in decimating the Chinese army. In killing. In pillaging. Remember that.'
'But, I also once found pleasure in such things,' another part reminded her.
"Mundzuc?" Mulan repeated, frowning. "That's not a pleasant-sounding name…"
"He's…not the most pleasant of men to be around," Zhu told her. She felt her cheeks grow dark as she admitted, "He was the only person in the entire army I was I had any fear of."
Mulan and Shang exchanged worried looks.
"You never told me you were terrified of him," Shang said, his voice betraying his worry. "Only that he was one of Shan Yu's best assassins!"
"What was I suppose to say?" she suddenly snapped. "I couldn't very well admit such a thing in front of the Emperor! If I had, you know he would have found some way to—" She silenced herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I…I just—"
"It's a sore spot for you," Shang told her. "I understand. But I do wish you would have told me in private. Knowing that man scared even you is just a bit worrying."
"B-but we don't have to worry about him, right?" Mulan piped up. "He and—Roua, did you say his name was?—have more than likely fled China. And who knows? Maybe they've been killed by bandits or some soldiers near the wall?"
"I can only hope Mundzuc met such a fate," Zhu sighed. "How much further until we've reached the village?" she asked, changing the subject.
Shang let out a small sigh of relief; he was glad for the change. It was also well-timed on Zhu's part. "To reach the village proper would be another five minutes," he informed, "but we've actually reached our destination." Gently tugging on the reins, he guided Jiang through a wooden gate into an empty courtyard.
The rest of the group followed behind him. The wagon and carriage had to be brought in one at a time; though both easily fit in the courtyard, the gate wasn't quite wide enough to allow them pass through together. Before Zhi and her daughters could leave the carriage, though, Shang insisted he and the lieutenants check out the buildings to ensure that no one was waiting to 'surprise' them.
"For once, I agree with his over-protectiveness," Mulan chuckled, dismounting Khan. Peering past the wagon and carriage, she could see her own home just a few hundred feet away. "Looks like I was right about being across the road from here."
"Is that so?" Zhu dismounted Umut. As she started to feel along her saddle and bags, searching for her walking stick, she began rapidly blinking.
Mulan frowned. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," she answered, clenching her eyes shut for a moment. Upon opening them, Mulan saw that they were black. "Umut, are you sure…? You're a day early."
The mare turned towards her, an almost motherly look in her eyes. She nuzzled Zhu's cheek before nudging her forward, towards Mulan.
"Alright, alright," Zhu smiled, brow raised. She looked at Mulan, whose confusion was all-too obviously written on her face. "I was supposed to get my vision back tomorrow, but Umut gave it back to me just now. I guess she wanted me to be able to see my new home."
"That's good," she chirped. "Especially since this is an entirely new area to you. It'll give you time to get used to it before your sight goes again."
Nodding, she glanced over her shoulder. "Very true. I just hope she doesn't wear herself out. Then again, she could always give me a few days with sight and then take a few more days of rest…"
Mulan gave Khan a small pat on the side of his neck before motioning behind him. He turned and started to walk out of the courtyard. "That she could. But something tells me you get to wait another month for that to happen."
She shrugged, watching as Khan walked across the road and through a different gate. "More than likely. But, this is Umut we are discussing. She has surprised me more than once throughout my life."
Looking around, she saw that there were three buildings within her immediate sight: The main house, the servants' quarters, and the barn. Of the three, the barn was the largest and was comprised of multiple stories. Second largest was the main house; though it was only a single story, she could see that it stretched back quite a way. The servants' quarters were connected to the main house via a short, covered pathway.
Soon enough, Shang and the lieutenants returned from their inspection. Mulan and Zhu knew things must have gone well because Shang was wearing a small smile.
"Everything is safe," he told them. "No living thing was found, though there was plenty of furniture."
"Already?" Mulan blinked. "I would have expected furniture to be bought after arrival."
"It wasn't bought," Zhu smiled. "It was shipped weeks ago from the palace."
"That…actually makes sense."
The three of them turned as they heard the princesses and Zhi leaving the carriage. Su was the first to hop out, a broad grin on her face.
"I can finally see what my new kitchen looks like!" she chirped, starting to skip off. "And get to see my new room!"
"Wait for me!" Mei came out next, blowing some loose strands of hair from her face. "I need to make sure I have the room with the most light for my sewing!"
Ting-Ting emerged next. "Mei, you have an entire room meant for your sewing and dying, remember? You gave father your pouty eyes just to be extra sure you got one."
A mischievous smile came to Mei's lips. "Of course I remember. But I still would like the room with the most daylight!" Before her sister could protest, she hurried up the steps into the house.
Shaking her head, Ting-Ting instead went over to Zhu, Mulan, and Shang. "I don't really care what room I get," she told them, wearing a weary smile. "I'll be in the barn most of the time anyway."
Mulan frowned. "The barn? Why is that?"
"For her woodworking," Zhu answered.
"It's far too messy a hobby to do inside the house," Shang added. "Especially when Ting-Ting really gets into her work." He then looked at Zhu. "You'll be sure to pry her away from it sometimes so she can eat and sleep, correct?"
Zhu smirked. "I'm the stablemaster. I can lock her out if need be."
Pouting at her, Ting-Ting rested her chin on her shoulder. "You wouldn't do that to your favorite little sister, would you?" It still surprised Mulan that there was only a few inches difference between their heights; Mei and Su were absolutely tiny compared to them.
Zhu's brow rose and she grinned. "Unluckily for you, I don't have a favorite little sister."
Ting-Ting suddenly lifted Zhu up, holding her above her head. "I'd reconsider your words, big sister!" she grinned. She didn't seem to notice that, not only were Shang and Mulan's jaws hanging open, but so were the jaws of the lieutenants. "Or will I have to tie you up and let Mei dress you like her doll?" She started to giggle, ruining the seriousness of her threat.
"You're getting better with your threats!" Zhu laughed. She then winced, shifting slightly as her ribs began aching. Seeing her pain, Ting-Ting set her down. "You need to work on remaining stoic," she told her, rubbing her side. "An emotionless face is what leaves those you are threatening the most unnerved." She looked past her sister. "I should go help the goofballs with the unpacking."
"I can help, too," Ting-Ting smiled. "Mei and Su won't be much help after all."
"I am incredibly certain they'll be helping us," Zhu said, starting to walk off. "They will help by telling us where to put everything!"
Ting-Ting giggled again. "Too true! We need to make sure we stay away from the kitchen, though. Su will be an absolute nightmare when it comes to organizing things in there."
"Then it's a good thing Chien-Po has the patience of…Buddha? Is that the jolly fat man god?"
"That would be the Laughing Buddha, better known as Pu-tai," Ting-Ting explained. "He's entirely different from the true Buddha, known as Gautama Buddha. He's the thinner one who's depicted meditating."
Zhu nodded slowly in understanding. "Interesting…So, there are multiple Buddhas?" She climbed into the back of the wagon and grabbed a large chest.
"Yes. It's…a bit complicated to explain, though," she admitted, starting to take the chest from Zhu. "Put those two smaller chests on top of this."
Doing as instructed, she grabbed two smaller boxes; despite their size, each had to weigh nearly fifty pounds. "Religions are complicated. Chien-Po tried to tell me about them in the past, but I couldn't really wrap my head around all the different gods and demigods…" She shook her head, grabbing another large chest and stacking the rolls of Mei's fabric atop it before hopping out of the wagon.
"Says the woman who follows a religion," Ting-Ting teased as they headed for the house.
She shrugged. "The Earth Mother and Sky Father are fairly simple, though. The Earth Mother aids and protects women while the Sky Father aids and protects men."
"True." Stepping into the house first, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Zhu was able to step in without trouble. Due to the rolls of fabric, she had to enter sideways. "You didn't bump those, did you?" she teased. "Mei will throw a fit if she finds even the tiniest speck of dirt on those, you know."
Grinning, Zhu rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't bump them," she chuckled. She blinked as she was unexpectedly relieved of her burden. Looking up, she found Chien-Po smiling down at her.
"I'll take these for you," he said. "I know which rooms to put them in."
"Thanks," Zhu smiled.
"And I'll take these!" Ling chirped, reaching for the boxes Ting-Ting carried.
Ting-Ting wore a look of worry as he tried to relieve her of the trunks. "It's quite alright, Ling," she assured him, still holding the majority of the weight. "I assure you, I've got these."
He let out a laugh. "Ah, don't worry about it! I can carry these things easily!" he said. "Anyway, I don't have to carry them very far; just a few rooms down!"
"If you insist…" Still worried, she slowly let go of the chests, letting the weight ease into Ling's grip. When she fully let go, it was obvious that the weight was almost too much for Ling to carry.
Not wanting to embarrass himself in front of the two women, however, he managed a red-faced smile. "See? Easy peasy! Yao and Chien-Po aren't the only strong guys 'round here." He started to walk off, taking care to not hurt himself under the weight.
Zhu shook her head while Ting-Ting hid a small giggle behind her hand.
'Why risk hurting himself just to carry some chests?' Zhu thought as she headed back outside. 'Is he embarrassed that he's not as strong as Yao or Chien-Po? If that's the case, he really shouldn't be. What he lacks for in strength, he more than makes up for in endurance. Though, it was kind of sweet to see how hard he tried to help Ting-Ting.'
She cocked her brow slightly. Since when did she use the word 'sweet' to describe the goofballs? As she hopped into the wagon, she lightly shook her head.
'All these kindhearted women must finally be rubbing off on me…'
