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Villages lay scarce as they march around the rice fields and head closer to Tung Shao Pass.
Mulan trudges along, blinking out the sleepiness from her eyes. She leads Khan. Her horse neighs, clopping and tossing his head impatiently. "I know," Mulan mumbles, gripping the reins loosely. "I know you're tired, too. We'll make camp soon."
"I'm not tired!" Mushu yawns, raising his little dragon arms above his head. "Why would you think that!?"
Cri-Kee gives a frustrated chiirp! in the wagon and rolls his eyes at Mushu.
She smacks her lips, blinking listlessly again. It's so hot. Mulan turns her head at the noise of running water. No, not running water. Splashing. A cluster of peasant women move across the low-level terraces. Dark mud stripes their bare, sunned legs.
They shift their baskets and cease their gossip, looking up to the line of Imperial soldiers.
One or two women giggle, staring in unconcealed interest. Mulan notices their gazes pinned on her, their wind-chapped lips smiling, their hands fanning themselves. She turns a bright, shiny red, hurrying forward and tugging on Khan's reins.
.
.
Daylight burns out of existence.
It's a relief to be out of the training barracks, Mulan supposes. Different sights. Fresh air from the mountains. They all set up camp near grasslands, stringing together the piles of thick muslin and hunting for meat in this evening's stew.
Some of the women join them for company, boldly venturing from their homes after working in the fields.
Captain Li Shang is nowhere to be found. Mulan assumes he's ignoring everyone.
She sits by herself, clutching her piping hot bowl of rabbit stew and observing her fellow soldiers. Men drool after any glimpse of the peasant women. They're very pretty, yes — Mulan agrees — but the men try too hard to get their attention. Bragging about tattoos, and what they can lift, and how many Huns they've killed — which is entirely a lie. Not one of them has seen a Hun.
Yao flexes his muscles — Ling, with his reedy voice, recites his horrific jokes — Chien-Po waves shyly —
"What are you waiting for?!" Mushu pokes his head out of Mulan's shirt-collar. "Go!" he says, frowning. "Go talk to them!"
"To who?"
"Who do you THINK, girl? Bessie over here?" Mushu gestures dramatically to Khan chewing on a piece of long grass. "NO!" he yells sternly. "NOT THE COW! Go talk to one of the village women! You're wasting time!"
Mulan flattens her lips together.
"I don't know, Mushu…" she complains.
"You're the ONLY one by yourself, Mulan! It makes you look suspicious!"
He's got a point. Mulan sighs in defeat, finishing her bowl and setting it aside. Two of the peasant woman linger nearby, grasping their knitted, undyed shawls to themselves and whispering to each other. Okay, okay… what would a man do?
What would Ping do?
Mulan plasters on Ping's huge, dopey grin, thrusting her legs apart and awkwardly swaggering to the women.
"Hey there!" she cries out, switching to the overly deep, manly voice. "Nice night, isn't it? Don't you love the smell of… uhm… roasted meat...?" Mulan says lamely. Both of the peasant women go quiet. Not in a friendly way.
"Have you ever, uh," she adds, floundering and glancing around, "Uhh, have you ever seen a man spit all the way to that post?"
Mulan puffs her chest, hacking and spitting. Mostly it's a warm, gross dribble between her lips.
They scoff and harrumph, lifting their noses and walking away.
"Uh! Right!" Mulan cries out again, forcing herself to grin. "Have a good night, ladies! Stay safe!" She half-salutes to their backs, and an obviously snickering Ling passes by and pats Mulan's shoulder. Mulan fights down her humiliation.
Mushu clucks his forked tongue, jumping into view as soon as Ling disappears.
"That was pathetic. Your ancestors must be weeping in shame."
"Mushu…" she growls out like a warning.
"Alright, alright. I'll leave you to it." He ends up in the high grass, scaling up Khan's leg and perching onto the saddle blanket. "But, trust me for a moment," Mushu responds. "What you're doing will work better if you just be yourself."
Mulan screws up her expression. "Being myself would only get me killed," she points out.
"You know what I mean!"
She's not sure she does. Not really.
Khan trots off with Mushu arranging himself for a nap on the horse's back.
Mulan blows air noisily through her lips, whirling towards the more crowded area of their encampment. More soldiers and more blazing, smoke-billowing fires. Three more women huddle together, and one of them seems to be eyeing Mulan. A sliver of confidence pierces into Mulan's chest. She decides against Ping's swagger, approaching with a bow of her head.
One of the women, her black, silky hair knotted, tilts her head.
"Honorable soldier, you look weary."
"We have made a long journey," Mulan answers. She clears her throat, looking down to her feet briefly and then into their eyes. "But, uhm, when I see your smiling faces… my heart feels gladdened. It reminds me of what I'm fighting for."
To Mulan's surprise, all of the women beam and titter. She flushes a little with pride… oddly enough, reveling in the attention…
(Maybe she does have the hang of this.)
"What's your name?"
"Ping."
"I am Xiu." It's the first woman who spoke. The leader. She's a little older than her companions. Mulan can see traces of a deep hue of rouge on Xiu's mouth, and coal sticking to her eyelashes. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Mulan opens her mouth, unsure of what to say next, and then she gapes.
"Your hand," Mulan says worriedly, taking hold of Xiu's fingers. Red seeps visibly. "The bandage needs changing. May I?"
Xiu glances to her companions who nod and murmur out their goodbyes.
"How kind of you, yes," she replies in bemusement, allowing Mulan to lead her into one of the tents. Mulan knows this one is stocked with emergency supplies. As long as no one discovers them, especially Chi Fu, they should be fine. She undoes the blood-soaked linen, tossing it aside and fetching a new one. Mulan inspects the wound for any infection before binding it.
"Does it feel too tight?" Mulan asks offhandedly, kneeling in front of the bench.
"No." Xiu goes back to eyeing her, sitting and smiling faintly. "Have you treated wounds before, Ping?"
"Several of my own. Here and there."
As a young child, Mulan made a habit of getting into trouble. Leaping off roofs. Swimming in the rivers, Dodging her parents who ordered her inside. Chasing the village boys who laughed along with her and playing with fallen tree branches like they were swords. She scraped her knees and elbows so often. Mulan greased her injuries with healing ointments discovered in Grandma Fa's room. The bandages were well hidden from Baba and Mama within the long, silk sleeves of her robes.
"I'm not used to doing it for someone else," Mulan admits sheepishly, keeping her eyes on her task. "Forgive me."
"You seem to be the kind of man who cares deeply for others."
"And you seem to be the kind of woman who…"
Silence permeates between them. Xiu, with her jasmine-fragrant hair and dark, lively eyes, searches Mulan's features.
"Who…?" she teases.
"Who wants more than what life gave her," Mulan offers, sounding nonchalant, her heart pounding erratically. "To be more. It's what I have heard many women say before." Mulan's teeth rip into the edge of Xiu's linen-bandage, helping her tie it in place.
"That's quite fascinating. And what do you want, Ping?"
Mulan chuckles. "Do you have all night to hear it?" she quips. It's not a serious declaration.
Xiu's uninjured hand, however, runs inside Mulan's leg.
"I think so…"
There's a seductive lithe to Xiu's tone. In how she examines the other woman. Mulan finds herself unable to move, frightened by the certainity now of getting her identity revealed, when the same hand crawls towards Mulan's inner thigh.
"Y—You—" Mulan stammers, rising to her feet. "You should go. Right now."
"Don't be so nervous."
Xiu goes to her feet as well, closing the distance and gripping onto the back of Mulan's neck. Her lips press onto hers. A hot, fleshy seal. Mulan goes wide-eyed into the sudden lustful kiss. Oh, oh gods. Her first kiss. This is her very first one and it's with someone who doesn't know she's a woman. Xiu's palms roam to Mulan's sides, over her armor and clutching onto Mulan's hips.
"Show me your tent?" Xiu murmurs, separating from Mulan's lips.
Mulan gawks, blushing fiercely.
"Um, I don't—"
"Or you prefer to do it here?"
She gasps Xiu's name, mystified by her nerve. The other woman doesn't seem daunted by this and smiles harder, unclinching the top portion of her satiny, pink robe. Her breasts, pale and full, expose in the dimmed lantern-light.
"Would you like that?" Xiu places Mulan's bare hand against her. Mulan can feel her hardened nipple against her own thumb. She swallows. "I wouldn't mind it… I wouldn't mind you taking me on the floor in front of the men," Xiu suggests lowly, gleefully. "Ripping off my clothes and displaying me…"
Her body trembles. It's such filthy language directed right at Mulan, and she doesn't… she doesn't know why her head is spinning. Mulan doesn't move a muscle, breathlessly in wanting, seeing as Xiu drops Mulan's hand.
"You could give me a son," Xiu whispers. She grabs onto Mulan's other hand, thrusting it flat against her cunt. That hand massages down, encouraging Mulan to touch her and feel all of the heat through the thin, flimsy material. "I'll tell him all about his glorious and brave father who fought in the war—"
"I can't," Mulan interrupts, rasping out. "I can't—I can't do that."
Xiu nods in understanding.
"That's alright." She presses a light kiss to Mulan's jaw, and then gropes her own hand entirely between Mulan's legs. "I don't want children—" As soon as Mulan feels the intruding sensation, she shudders and backs away, letting out a high-pitched yelp.
No.
Xiu's mouth hangs open.
"I—" Mulan struggles to think, her head spinning harder and her eyes watering. This can't be happening. "I can explain—wait—"
"You're—"
"Please, Xiu—"
"—a eunuch," Xiu concludes softly, looking ashamed. "Oh, you poor thing. How could I be so cruel?"
No?
Mulan releases a confused, pitiful sound. This really can't be happening. What is happening? The other woman pets Mulan's flushed, tear-glistening cheeks, shushing her. "Come, come now… don't fret so. Your secret will be safe with me, Ping."
"It is…?" she asks weakly.
"Yes. "
Xiu kisses Mulan's lips, as lightly and thoughtfully as before, sitting a perplexed Mulan down with her onto the tent's floor. She yanks her robes over her knees, gathering them to her stomach and opening her thighs. Mulan, slowly realizing her circumstances, glimpses a peek of her. Pink as Xiu's clothing and her bared nipples.
"What… are you doing…?" Mulan whispers.
One of Xiu's fingers drags playfully over her opening. Xiu lifts an eyebrow.
"Eunuchs still have their tongues… do they not?"
.
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This tent is the loudest one. Full of elated, husky moaning that goes on for a while.
Ling stands alongside Yao and Chien-Po, and a number of their men getting lonely without the peasant women. They wait for a any glimpse of movement by the tent's entrance. "So… who do you think is in there?" he mutters, crossing his arms.
Chien-Po hums. "That is a good question."
"It ain't the Captain… I know that much," Yao declares, giving a loud, wheezy snort.
A tall and beautiful woman steps out of the tent. She's fair-skinned and knotting her black, silky hair. Older than anticipated. But her partner takes their time to exit — Ping's visibly disheveled, breathing hard and mesmerized. His lips reddened and puffy. He carries out his armor, glancing to his friends and the other members of the Imperial army staring back in amazement.
Ping's — Mulan's — expression gradually changes. She ducks away, licking and wiping off her smirking mouth.
"Unbelievable," Yao grumbles, throwing up his hands.
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