DISCLAIMER: this chapter doesn't belong to me either.

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are the rightful property of Disney, except for Luo Jin and Captain Hsiao Tso-liang, who belong to me :)

A/N: No, your eyes are not deceiving you, I have actually updated! (Shock! Horror!) And yes, as I promised, this is a nice long chapter for you all. The longest I've written!

Anyway, before we begin, I'd like to say that chapters 3 and 10 have been modified. However, it's nothing completely plot altering, so it's not necessary for people to go back and read again.

Now, before you all die of impatience, I present chapter 12.

Towards the Setting Sun

Chapter 12

The fortress seemed almost abandoned. It was late in the year now, the snow piled thickly in the courtyard that Shang slowly trudged across. The guards on duty were nowhere to be seen, the only sign of their presence being the dim glow of lights inside the guardhouses dotted along the walls. It suited him well enough, especially when he needed time to think, and by now the other soldiers knew to leave him to his own devices.

Thankfully, the snowfall had stopped for now, although how long the reprieve would last was anyone's guess. In the past few days, it had been falling so thickly that one could not see further than their own outstretched arm, forcing the entire fortress to cease all activity and take shelter indoors, huddled around braziers and buried underneath blankets. The chill was enough to make Shang's bones ache, and the twinge in his ankle was growing steadily sharper. He had twisted after slipping on the icy steps leading up to the wall walkway, earning himself a visit to the medic and a few sniggering glances from some of the soldiers. Apparently even their esteemed general could be defeated by ice, no matter how great he was deemed to be in battle. After that, Shang had learnt to watch his feet.

Shang stopped on the wall above the gate. Off to his left the town glimmered dimly from where it was sprawled down in the valley. The imposing mountain peaks loomed up to the right, scraping the low clouds where they hung, grey and oppressive. Somewhere among them, the small party led by Mulan and Captain Hsiao would probably have set up camp in the snow, taking shelter from the elements.

Two weeks had passed since Mulan had left the fortress, and with each passing day Shang's trepidation increased. People frequently became lost in the mountains, and while the task set them had been necessary, it was still foolish. Shang suspected that Mulan had been out of sorts when she had accepted the task, and still in shock as to recent events. No doubt she had seen it as an opportunity to take some time to order her troubled mind - something Shang was familiar with - but to trek off into the mountains when the snow was so close at hand seemed ridiculous. Despite that, however, he wouldn't have tried to dissuade her, no matter what he felt. It was best to let her go, under the watchful eye of Captain Hsiao, and wait for her return, hoping, praying that she would be safe.

And what if she wasn't? He would be the one to report her demise to her waiting family, the very people who had entrusted him with the safety of their only daughter.

The people who, like him, waited, and hoped, and prayed that she would come back alive.

Disliking the morbid turn of his thoughts, Shang bent his mind to more pleasant musings, such as the qualities of her smile – her real smile, not the half-hearted one she had offered him upon her departure. That smile spoke of happiness, her emotions displayed clearly in the curve of her lips and the light that shone in her eyes. In those moments, her cheerfulness was contagious, and before long the corners of his lips would twitch up into the semblance of a smile, too, though his was pale and lifeless in comparison. Truthfully, he doubted his face even knew of the kinds of smile she gave, and he was often too reserved to begin to try and imitate it.

The crunch of a booted foot in the snow jolted Shang from his daydreams so forcefully that the twinge in his ankle returned with a vengeance. Shang found himself caught between whirling to face whoever was approaching and clutching at the injured appendage, resulting in a rather uncomfortable hunched position against the battlement. Blood rushed to his cheeks even as he dared a glance over his left shoulder. What would the soldiers make of this predicament? A General was meant to be alert, an example for others to follow, not lost in a whimsical daydream.

It was General Su Dingfeng.

Shang straightened immediately, turning to face the elder man awkwardly on his painful ankle, and gave a short bow. His heart was beating quickly, not because of his clumsiness but rather from nervousness. Over the past few weeks, Shang had made every effort to avoid one-on-one contact with this man, and had been successful in doing so. Apparently, however, his luck had run out.

"…General Li Shang," His greeting held every ounce of the coolness expressed in his gaze. It had always been this way, for as long as Shang could remember.

"…Sir." Shang's reply was strained, formal, despite the fact that he had known this man for many, many years. He remained rigid as the elder man came to stand beside him, and look out, as he had done, over the city.

"I heard about what happened to your father." He paused long enough to flick his eyes over Shang, as though to gauge his reaction, before continuing in the same cool voice, "I am sorry for your loss." Somehow, despite the kind nature of the words, they held little weight, and fell hollow and worthless upon Shang's ears.

"He died doing what he believed was right. He wouldn't have wished it any other way." It was what Mulan had said to him once, what seemed like so long ago but was in reality only a couple of months before. However, Shang could not gather the same conviction with which Mulan had said them, and in the end it sounded equally as meaningless as General Su's words before.

General Su's eyes turned to meet his own, and a glint of something fierce lurked within them. "One never learns how to stop mourning the death of a loved one."

Shang kept his mouth shut. To do otherwise would have been foolish, no matter how pointed the jibe or how angry it made him.

The General turned his gaze back to the nightscape, absently flicking snow from the top of the wall out of the sphere of lamplight and into the darkness. "I talked to your new Captain, the woman warrior."

That snapped him out of his dark thoughts. "When?"

"As I arrived, she came from the town. She is an interesting woman." Again, he levelled his gaze upon Shang, though the earlier perceived ferocity was gone, replaced instead by somewhat genuine interest. "Is it true she destroyed the Hun army with only a single cannon?"

"Yes." He had to resist the urge to smile with pride, even though in his memories he had been anything but proud when Mulan had run headlong towards the charging Huns with what was, at the time, their last hope of survival.

"But," General Su continued, the pitch of his voice dropping, "is it also true that you, her commanding officer, left her in the mountains, wounded and defenceless?"

It was painful to admit, most of all to himself, but he would be damned before he lied to this man. "…Yes."

The elder man drew a deep breath but remained quiet, as though he was having an internal monologue, but none of his thoughts were obvious to Shang from his expression. Shang, too, held his tongue and waited.

Finally General Su spoke.

"I think it would be best if she were sent home."

One moment passed, and then another, in which Shang found himself too stunned to speak or even string two coherent thoughts together. It seemed almost impossible to even consider the prospect of sending Mulan home, and Shang found it hard to comprehend how this man could believe it was the best course of action to take. Eventually, his thought processes caught up with him. He drew a breath.

"What?" It came out weaker and more disbelieving than Shang had originally intended, and he suddenly became aware of how much he sounded like a foolish youth, not the General he was meant to be.

"Send her home." Su repeated, his expression as unchanging as the cold mountains surrounding them. "As I understand it, she has caused quite a bit of trouble since she has been here. She would only jeopardise our purpose further if she were allowed to stay."

"She is a good soldier." Shang ground out, "One of my best."

"She is also a woman. She could be overpowered by a Turk in a second."

"That woman stopped a Hun charge with only a single cannon!"

"A dumb stroke of luck, I'm sure. Things like that don't happen twice."

Shang had to struggle to keep his temper in check and his voice level. "That may be true, but it saved the Emperor's life, and those of the city's civilians."

"Indeed," General Su conceded, though Shang could tell he wasn't finished. "However, this is hardly a safe environment for her to be in."

"I'll protect her."

General Su cast another assessing look in his direction. "I don't doubt that, but you can't be there to guard her all the time. What if another soldier were to take his chances on her, and you were absent? She would be useless to us then, and then we would have no choice but to send her back." He let out a long sigh that appeared as a billowing white cloud before his mouth in the cold air. "When a tree becomes diseased, the afflicted limb is cut off at the base before the whole tree falls. I propose we do the same, before we regret it."

"Mulan is not a 'disease'. We need her." Shang said, though he realised he was grasping at straws. This man had obviously planned his arguments.

" 'We'? The army has plenty of soldiers, Shang. 'We' do not need her any more than we need this snow. No," General Su replied, his voice dropping almost conspiratorially and his eyes glittering with a sort of understanding that made Shang feel incredibly uncomfortable. "I think you are the one who needs her."

And with that, he turned heel and started along the wall towards the nearest guardhouse, leaving Shang speechless behind him. At about ten paces away, he paused, and turned around.

"I will give her one chance, General Li," He called back, his voice half-muffled by the wind, though his message was clear. "If I hear she has made any further mistakes – anything at all – I will send her home. Until then, she is your responsibility."

Shang watched in silence as General Su walked the rest of the way to the guardhouse and let himself in. The anger he had felt earlier had bled away without his notice, and now he felt strangely numb and fatigued. Did he really need Mulan, or was the general trying to make him slip up? He needed more time to think, but the wall held little appeal to him now. In silence, he crossed again the abandoned courtyard, and slipped away to his room.

The next morning was bright, the sun having finally broken from the clouds to reflect blindingly off the fallen snow, though in no way did it reflect Shang's mood. The night had been a sleepless one, though that was not unusual for him. Rather, it was the incessant trail of his thoughts as he analysed again and again in his head General Su's words the night before and the whole problem concerning Mulan. In the end, as first light crept in through his window, he hadn't come to any sort of conclusion on the matter. He felt irritated and, worse, confused about his feelings and intentions. Did he really need Mulan? He hadn't wanted her to come on this campaign in the first place, so why hadn't he tried harder to get her to stay or change her mind?

Shang was supposed to be taking stock of the supplies for their imminent journey to meet the Turk army, yet he hadn't had the patience for the endless paperwork. He had assigned an off duty captain to the task in his stead, even though it would mean more work later to check it had been done correctly. The man had been more than eager to comply after seeing the stormy expression on his face. After that, Shang had made a beeline for the barracks, and, more specifically, the small hall among them where the soldiers were training. He needed to vent his frustration, and some physical exertion would do just that.

The soldiers never saw it coming.

He had dismissed the captains on duty and announced to the assembled soldiers that he would be taking their training today as he shed the heavy cloak and armour. "Consider it a test," he told them. "If you can beat me in combat, you'll be ready to face a Turk."

His announcement was met by a swell of murmurs from the soldiers, who didn't know what to think either about their new instructor or the prospect of facing their General in hand-to-hand combat. They knew, had heard the stories, of General Li's encounter with Shan Yu, the ferocious Hun who had stood head and shoulders above a normal man, was as strong as a bear, could grind rocks to sand with his bare hands… That he had survived it was enough to make some of them break out in sweat.

So it began. The soldiers would face him one by one, armed with either a staff or a sword if they wished, or just with their fists, while the others sparred in pairs around them. Shang found it exhilarating, even though his ankle throbbed dully throughout the exercise. Many of the soldiers were well trained, and once or twice Shang found himself at the receiving end of a blow, though his opponent would be much worse off. Some, however, were poorly matched against him and could only make futile attempts at blocking his attacks. These he sent away with a few stinging words and several bruises. Either way, the activity helped to soothe his turbulent thoughts, and as he went through fluid motions of the forms he had been taught years ago, his frustration bled away, leaving him calm and focused.

It was almost midday when a soldier rushed into the hall, distracting Shang's opponent and allowing him to deliver a hard kick to the man's side, bowling him over. Shang turned to meet the new arrival, guessing from his snow encrusted feet and warm clothing that he had been on guard duty at the gate. The guard approached and gave a short bow.

"A company is approaching the gate, General. We believe it is Captain Fa and Captain Hsiao returning."

Shang nodded to the Guard, who rushed out again, and headed to his discarded armour. Putting it on, he said to the room at large, "Take a break", and departed.

The cold air outside the training hall hit Shang hard as he left, chilling the residual sweat on his forehead and causing a shiver to run the length of his spine and back. Nevertheless, Shang kept a brisk pace to the gate, eager to see whether it was indeed Mulan or merely a group of lost travellers. For the moment, the troubles of the previous night were gone, replaced by an unexplainable need to see she was safe and whole.

Turning into the courtyard, he could see the gates were open, and three guards were waiting in the entrance, looking out onto the road. So far, he was the only senior officer there, which suited him fine. He reached the gate and looked out. As the guard had said, a small group of about twenty people on foot and three laden horses were approaching the gate, and he gave a little smile to see the large form of Captain Hsiao leading the group. Several paces behind followed a much shorter armoured figure he recognised as Mulan, walking beside one of the soldiers. After two weeks of waiting, and hoping, and praying, she had returned.

Captain Hsiao met him first, and they greeted each other with a brief clasping of hands and a smile. He moved to Shang's side and stood to watch the others approach.

"Report?" Shang asked quietly, his eyes on Mulan. She had dropped back to help lead the horses.

"We checked two of the mountain passes to the north and one heading west, General." Hsiao replied seriously, also watching the soldiers. "The first had been struck by avalanche and was completely blocked. By the time we reached the others the snow had set in. There was no sign to be found of any sort of armed forced having passed through. If any reinforcements were coming they'll have turned back."

Shang crossed his arms, but stayed silent. It wasn't all that surprising considering the bad weather they had been experiencing, but it left the army short of the soldiers it so desperately needed. The Turk's army was a difficult opponent due to their expertise in both horsemanship and archery, not to mention the advantage they had with the terrain. However, their tribes would not be able to draw together such numbers as they had here, and that was what the Imperial army was relying upon.

Finally, Shang spoke. "Make sure the horses are stabled and fed, then go to General Su and tell him what you told me. You're dismissed."

As Captain Hsiao went about overseeing the soldiers, Shang approached Mulan where she stood off to his left giving the horse she had been leading a reassuring pat on the neck.

"Welcome back." He said.

He could have sworn he saw her jump, though she masked it by turning smoothly to face him. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her lips a little chapped, but otherwise she looked fine. The shadows that had lingered about her eyes were gone, or at least diminished, and she gave him a shy smile. His lip twitched in return.

"Shang."

"The horses are being taken care of by Captain Hsiao." He told her. "Come with me. I need to talk to you."

They paused only to gather her tent and bedroll, before heading off to her quarters. No words passed between them as they walked, though the silence was comfortable. She left her things in her room, and Shang guided her towards the Officers' mess, being aware as he was of the scandal it could cause if they were found alone together in her rooms. After all, she was still a woman and he a man, and the iron rules of society would reach even here, in the cold halls of a military fortress.

When they entered the Officers' mess, it was to find a quiet room except for the muted snores emanating from a sleeping captain on one of the benches by the walls. Shang paid him no heed, though he made a note to talk to the man later about sleeping during the day when everyone else was working. Still in silence, Shang took a seat in a wooden chair that sat beside a battered old table, the surface of which was ruined by several deep knife-made gouges running across it. Mulan sat opposite him, her eyes curious as to what he might have to say.

"How are you feeling?" He began quietly, pinning her with his eyes. All of the concern he had felt for the past two weeks was welling up to the surface. The last time he had seen her she had been only a shadow of her usual self, and it had disturbed him.

Her eyes skittered away to the right, betraying her discomfort. She was quiet for a moment before replying. "…Better. I had a lot to think about."

"Is that why you went?"

"…Yes." She paused to draw a deep breath and let it out in a rush, slumping back in her chair. Her eyes turned up to the rafters, sad. "You were right to dislike him, Shang."

Shang stayed silent, though his lips thinned slightly. His original reason for disliking him, Luo Jin, had been because he had known Mulan first. Jin was her friend before they had even met and Shang had been jealous.

"I thought I knew him." Mulan lamented quietly. She dropped her gaze to the table, and proceeded to pick splinters from the cracks. "I guess I thought wrong."

Shang could empathise with her on that. He had felt the same way that night in the Tung Shao pass when her true identity had been revealed. He didn't mention it, though. He merely watched her small fingers pry at the wood. Her hands, though ladylike in size, sported a number of calluses one the fingers and palm, the evidence of her training. In an absurd sort of way, Shang found himself liking them; they were one of the few things he had ever given her.

"Thank you, Shang."

His mind was forcibly dragged back into the room from its momentary wanderings. "What?" He asked, his voice slightly wobbly. He coughed to cover it.

"Thank you for coming to me, that night. For not killing him, though you could have," Her eyes were back on his, earnest. "Thank you for back then, too, with the Huns. For not-…" The end was choked off, though he knew what she would have said.

Thank you for not killing me, when it was your job to do so. Shang turned his stare to the floor, shame and regret burning in his chest. That would always hang between them, a constant wedge that kept them apart and stopped them from simply forgetting.

She continued, instead, with: "…For not sending me home."

Shang's brows drew together with the sudden reminder of his conversation with General Su the night before, and the very thing he had tried to avoid thinking about all day. Mulan had grown quiet upon noticing his expression, and he lifted his gaze from the stone floor to see her looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Uh… Actually…" He started, the words somehow hard to find. "General Su wants you sent back home…" Now, judging from the rapidly growing look of hurt and betrayal in her eyes, those were the wrong words to choose. He rushed on, leaning forward in his seat with his hands held out, open, as though to reassure her. "I argued with him. Last night, on the wall." Was that relevant? "I told him… I told him that you were a good soldier – one of my best – and that you had defeated the Huns with a single cannon. I told him that… that we needed you here."

Mulan stared at him for a moment. Eventually, she spoke. "You did?"

He nodded, mute, his words exhausted.

"And what did he say?" She asked, slowly, like she didn't want to hear his answer.

"He said that you have one chance left. If he hears that you have made any sort of mistake, he'll send you back."

She was quiet again, staring intently at the wall as though it held the answer to all of their problems. Across the room, the sleeping Captain rolled over on the bench with a grunt. Shang watched her with equal attention.

"Who is he to you, Shang?" She asked suddenly, her eyes returning again to meet with his.

"What do you mean?" His voice sounded uncertain.

"It's just that, when I met him, he didn't sound too pleased when I mentioned your name. You must know each other, somehow." She leaned forward. "So? Who is he?"

In response to her proximity, he leant back in his chair and crossed his arms. He didn't break her gaze, however, and considered what he should say.

"Well?" She prompted.

"General Su…" He paused, and took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "He was my mother's father."

Mulan couldn't have looked more surprised had she tried. No doubt she was thinking General Su had been some sort of instructor back when Shang had been in training, or something along those lines. However, even despite the fact that she knew Shang had military forebears, she hadn't seen such a connection coming.

"Your grandfather?"

"He wouldn't call himself that, but yes."

"…Why?"

"My mother died at my birth, and he blamed my father and I for it." He replied, his voice even.

"But that's terrible!" Mulan exclaimed. The captain on the bench grunted again at the volume of her words, but remained asleep.

"There's nothing that can be done. My father tried many times to reconcile with him, to get him to recognise me as his grandson, but he would hear none of it." Shang sighed, and then continued quietly. "It's been this way all my life."

Another silence fell between them, as they each returned to their own thoughts. Through the window filtered the sounds of the army's activity: soldiers crossing swords in practice, a horse's hooves echoing across the paved courtyard, the rhythmic clanging of the blacksmith's hammer in the small forge below them. Everything coalesced to create a throbbing pulse, the heartbeat of the fortress.

At length, Mulan spoke. "So… what do you propose we do?"

"General Su is a hard man to convince of anything. The only thing I can do, as your senior officer, is try to keep you from anything that could get you sent back, without it seeming as though I'm meddling. I can give you advice, if nothing else." Shang sat forward and pinned her with a gaze that held mild warning. "You just need to be careful what you get yourself into. If you make even the slightest mistake, I can't help you. My word holds no power against his."

Another brief silence fell between them.

"No climbing up poles to fetch arrows, then?" Her tone was jesting, though she had schooled her face into the epitome of seriousness.

"No." He said. He had to make an effort to stop the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile and keep his face blank.

"That's a relief." She laughed. It was only a small giggle really, but it heartened Shang to hear it, and to know that for now she had regained her spirit. Her face broke into a full smile – the true one he remembered, the one he had reflected upon only the previous evening – and Shang found himself returning it.

As the months passed, and winter with them, Shang found himself falling into a routine with Mulan. In the mornings they would pass each other briefly in the halls and exchange greetings, after which she would head off to the training hall to aid in the instruction of the soldiers while he would proceed to fulfil his duties, though they generally alternated between inspecting the fortress and its supplies and large amounts of paperwork. Occasionally he would be required to attend a meeting with General Su and a few of the more experienced captains - Hsiao Tso-liang included – in which the would discuss the upcoming departure and possible strategies, all the while retaining an uncomfortably stiff and formal manner. Then, in the evenings, he would meet up with Mulan again over the tables in the mess hall, and they would talk while they ate, and plan their actions.

Despite his misgivings, Mulan had in fact proved that she could avoid trouble entirely when she set her mind to it – so much so, in fact, that even General Su seemed to be turning his keen eye to other matters, rather than to constantly observe the woman warrior and watch for mistakes. She was quickly proving to be a model captain, well liked by the soldiers under her and praised by the senior officers. Nonetheless, Shang knew that the General's warning still stood, and any ill-fated event that could be attributed to her would have her sent back, no matter what he or anyone else could say against it. General Su held the power over this army, and no one else.

One grey morning, upon which Shang had found himself unlucky enough to be going over a tally of the food stores left to them after the winter, Captain Hsiao strode into his room. When Shang looked at him in askance, the man simply bowed formally, straightened up, and drew breath to speak.

"Orders have been given to ready the army for departure." He said.

"By who?" Shang asked, rising from his seat to face the captain. It was a stupid question with an obvious answer, but it slipped past his lips anyhow.

"General Su issued them this morning. We have three days, he says."

"It's too early." Shang muttered, looking out of his window. The mountains were still heavily blanketed with snow, and a thick layer of fog obscured their peaks. The passes that led through them would probably still be blocked. "The entire campaign will be at risk if we leave so soon. Even the Turks aren't stupid enough to travel in this weather. It's too early."

"I agree with you, but he won't listen-"

"He never listens!" Shang cut in, his voice rising. He crossed the room to where his armour stood on a wooden stand, and quickly put it on. His cape soon followed. "Where is he?" He demanded as he swept out into the hallway. Captain Hsiao hurried after him

"He just left for the town. To find a guide, I believe."

"Very well. I'm going after him. Ensure the gates are open when I get there." Shang instructed, and strode off in the direction of the stables without looking to see whether the other man had gone to do as he asked.

The guard at the stable, a young boy of only sixteen or seventeen years of age, was very alarmed when Shang marched into the stable, and proceeded to stutter and bumble when ordered to fetch his horse. Irritably he waited as the white stallion was saddled and harnessed, and when it was finally delivered to him the boy was scared almost out of his skin from the dark look on his senior's face. Shang mounted without a word, spurred the horse to a canter and headed out of the gate, glad that at least Captain Hsiao had done as asked without delay.

It wasn't long before he caught site of the small party of soldiers on the road ahead of him, though the road had forced him to slow down, muddy as it was from rain and melt water coming down the mountain. General Su wasn't hard to spot, the gold inlay in his armour making him as easy to identify as a white pebble on a beach of black stones. Apparently they had heard the sound of his approach, and had stopped to face him. The three soldiers accompanying the General moved aside to let him pass, though General Su himself remained in place.

"Li Shang," the General began, his tone as cold as it had ever been, "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I just received notice of our scheduled departure in three days," Shang replied just as icily. "You'll put us all at risk if we leave now."

"It is what's best."

In his youth Shang had frequently mused that Su Dingfeng was mentally deranged, though he had dismissed that notion as he grew older. Now, however, he found himself wondering whether he had indeed been right.

"How?" Shang asked, incredulous. "We have almost twelve-thousand men, about half that many horses and the supplies to support all of them. To try and cross the mountains when the snow has not yet cleared is madness!"

"It is possible, and it will be done. We cannot let the Turks approach us before we are ready, or we will find ourselves disadvantaged. We either leave now, or not at all."

"The cold will kill us. The horses cannot survive in the mountains and we will die without them." Shang countered. His hands were steadily twisting the leather reins so that they creaked and bit into his skin. "'The Art of War' says that an army should never campaign in the winter."

"'The Art of War' says many things, but they are just guidelines, not iron rules to follow blindly."

Shang was quickly losing his patience. "Guidelines can still prevent needless death, if we heed them." He ground out, though the expression on General Su's face remained as unconvinced than ever. Shang could feel a headache coming on. "Fine, then. What reasons could you possibly have for giving those orders?"

Next to them, the three soldiers shared a glance. One of the horses shifted, champing on the bit loudly in response to the tense atmosphere hanging between the two arguing Generals.

"The fog sheds darkness everywhere, General Li. The wind is icy. The barbarians will not believe that we can campaign in this season." He paused, pinning Shang with a steely look. "Let us hasten to surprise them."

Shang was quiet. What the General said made sense, though the stakes were still high. He was reluctant to agree. "That may be true, but there won't be a surprise if we are lost to the mountains," Shang objected. "I think we should wai-"

"We are leaving in three days, General Li," Su cut in before the words could finish passing his lips, "and I will not have you interfering. Understood?"

To say that Shang was irritated would be an understatement. To be treated like a child – as this man had always treated him, it seemed – was more than he could bear, especially when he was supposed to be his equal. However, years of experience dealing with him let him know that to try and argue further would be futile, and any efforts on his part would end in utter, humiliating defeat. He kept his silence, though his thoughts were screaming objections, gave a stiff nod, and left.

For now, the soldiers would need another workout.

...

A/N: Once again, I apologise for the absolutely huge delay between chapters. I have very little excuse, and I am duly shamed. However, I now have a nice long holiday, so I should be able to post a couple more chapters without severe gaps in between. Even so, if you feel I am slacking in my authorly duty to you, as the reader, please feel free to PM me with a reminder.

Reviews are welcome and much appreciated!

icedragon6171