Chapter Fifty: Dinner

"I hope you're hungry, dinner will be done soon," Mother tells me.

I nod, smiling. "Sounds good, Mama." I look at Khan, who is still standing with us in the courtyard. "I should probably put Khan in the barn, then I will join you inside."

Mother nods and she, Grandma, and Father go inside, Father clutching the sword and crest in his hand that is not holding his cane. I notice that he gives me a reluctant look, as if he is scared I will disappear again if he lets me out of his sights.

I lead Khan to the barn, and once inside, I can't help but marvel. Sure, it looks exactly the same as the day I left, but maybe that's the amazing part. Grandma always used to joke that if anyone ever asked me if I was raised in a barn, I could say yes, as so much of my time was spent out here. Even when I wasn't doing chores, Mushu, Melei, and I would hang around in this barn, talking and laughing and playing games. On clear nights, we would climb up to the roof of it to stargaze, and on nights like that, we would make wishes and tell our secrets. When I was little, and even when I was in my teens, I would sneak up into the hayloft to read or to just get away from everyone. It was my hiding spot.

Now, I run my hand along the wooden interior of the barn, taking deep breaths through my nose and smelling the hay. It smells like home.

As I remove Khan's saddle and reins and put them away, I see that even he seems excited to be home. Finally, I take my saddlebags and, after patting his head and making sure he has water, I head for the house.


I enter the house and stop short. Everything looks exactly the same. It's perfect. I stand, just looking around the room, flooded with so many memories. I never thought I would see this place again.

A hand on my shoulder startles me and I whirl around, wincing as the quick movement sends a flash of pain searing up my right side.

"Are you alright, Mulan?" Father asks me, his hand still hovering in the air.

I do my best to cover up any trace of pain that might be on my face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, giving him what I hope is a reassuring smile.

He nods, and I notice that his eyes look understanding yet…sad.

"Your mother and grandmother are preparing dinner. You should clean up and change." He begins to walk down the hallway, gesturing for me to follow. "Come."

I follow Father down the hallway and into the armory, where I see the Emperor's Crest and the sword of Shan-Yu laying on a bench. He catches me looking.

"We shall hang those," he tells me. "If you take the armor off, we can put it back in its cabinet."

I obey. Carefully, I remove each piece of armor, handing it to my father who places it in the cabinet. Soon enough, I am standing in my green and tan training tunic and trousers. For a moment, I wonder if it is strange for Father to see me dressed like this, but if it is, he does not show it. In fact, he looks at me with pride. He puts a hand on my shoulder before pulling me into another embrace. I hug him back. After a moment I pull away.

"I should probably get changed now," I say.

"Yes," Father agrees, "Your room is just how you left it."

I turn away and walk down the hall, pushing the door to my bedroom open. Before I know what is happening, I hear something skidding against the floor and then watch as it leaps into me. I barely am able to retain my balance, and with joy, I look down at the little ball of tan fur in my arms.

"Hi there, Little Brother," I coo, rubbing his head. His reply is a big, wet kiss. I laugh. "Miss me, boy?" He barks. "I missed you too." Giving him a kiss on the head, I set him on the ground and watch as he runs out the door, his attention already refocused on who-knows-what.

I close the door and walk to the center of my room, where I turn in a full circle, taking it in. Father was right, as he often is: it is exactly the same as I left it. Well, except for one thing. When I open the closet, I find the dress I wore to the matchmaker's hung neatly inside in contrast to the wet heap I left it in. Yeah, definitely not wearing that to dinner. Instead, I pull out one of my everyday dresses, the green and tan one I wore that morning before I had changed to go to the matchmaker's. But, I don't go to change just yet. Setting the dress on my bed, I grab my saddlebags and begin to root through the contents. I pull out two things: my dog tag and the pocket knife from Heng. They are two of the three most valuable things I acquired during the war. The third is the necklace from Ying, which has hung from my neck since she placed it there. Even when I was sweating with fever, no one removed it.

I pick up the knife and the dog tag and make my way to my dresser, which is placed against the wall opposite to my bed. There, I notice something else not quite like how I left it. Sitting on my dresser is my little jade flower comb, the one I received for my sixteenth birthday and wore to the matchmaker's. I pick it up momentarily before placing it back down. Then, I open one of the small drawers in my dresser. Ever since I was little, I thought of this as my "special things" drawer. It is full of seemingly miscellaneous things, but each one is special to me. There are some shiny rocks and snail-shells I found down by the river when I was small among other things.

I pick up a piece of folded paper from inside the drawer. My most prized possession, I haven't seen it in so long. Unfolding it with careful fingers, I gaze at the picture in my hands. It is an ink sketch, colored in places with pastels. Elegantly, it displays three children: two girls with long, black hair and a boy. The boy has a girl on either side of him, and their arms are thrown around each other's shoulders. The girl on his right looks near-perfect, while the one on his left has dirt on the hem of her dress, a pink magnolia flower in her slightly disheveled hair. All three have large, playful smiles. It's a beautiful drawing, drawn by the talented hand of none other than Ai Melei. She gave it to me as a gift for my, well I suppose our, thirteenth birthday. It really is a perfect representation of Melei, Mushu, and me.

I turn my thoughts back to the task at hand. Refolding the picture, I tuck it back into my dresser drawer along with the knife and my dog tag. Closing it gently, I turn and walk back over to my bed, where I pick up my dress. I take a few steps toward the door, but before I reach it, I stop and let out a sigh. Setting the dress down once more, I make a beeline for my dresser. Opening my drawer again, I pull out my dog tag. The picture of Ping Qing had drawn on it stares back at me. Like it or not, Ping became a part of me back at camp. There were times when Ping felt more real, when being him felt more truthful, than Mulan. It's hard to understand, hard to sort out, but for whatever reason, putting Ping in a drawer full of memories seems wrong. He's not a memory yet, he's alive. He's a part of me. So, taking the dog tag, I hang it by its leather strap on the corner of the rectangular mirror of my dresser. Ping's smiling face looks back at me.

"We aren't done quite yet, buddy," I mumble.

Only then do I pick up my dress and exit my bedroom.


Once in the washroom, I wet a rag in a bucket of clean water and wipe my face. When water touches the wound on my face, it stings, and I hiss under my breath. After that is taken care of, I begin to strip down. The bandages around my chest and torso remind me of something I haven't thought of.

'What am I supposed to do with my side?' I wonder.

It's not like I'm going to be able to hide it. Someone is bound to notice bloody bandages in the washroom trash on a daily basis. But if I tell them, they are bound to freak out. Then, they're going to want to see it, and they'll fuss about it, and make it all a big deal. It will be like that broken arm I got when I was thirteen. After that, my parents basically put me on house arrest for a week.

Sighing, I decide to deal with that later. Right now, I need to get dressed.


I look at my appearance in the washroom mirror, unsatisfied with what I see. The dress fits me oddly. I have grown since I left, both my height and my muscles. The dress is short, revealing my ankles and a little skin above them. The sleeves are also a little tight.

I feel kind of stupid. I just got done basically redefining what a woman is capable of, and now I'm back to playing dress-up. But, I've put my family through so much, and the guilt of leaving them still weighs heavy on my heart. The least I can do is pretend to be the daughter I was when I left, even though that girl is long gone now. I have a feeling I will never see her again.


Upon entering the dining room, the smell of my mother and my grandma's cooking fills my nose. I smile. The food is on the table, and Mother and Grandma are taking their places on their cushions. Father is already at his place at the head of the table.

"Come sit, Daughter," Faher states with a warm smile, gesturing to my old spot. The pride in his voice is hard to miss. Seeing him alive and happy makes all the hell I went through completely worth it.

I take my place, and after the prayer, dinner commences. We are barely a minute in when the question pops up.

"So tell us, what happened to send you home with the Emperor's Crest and that big Hun's sword?" Grandma asks.

"And how do those men know you are a woman?" Mother chimes in.

"It's kind of a long story…"

They all give me expectant looks. So much for keeping my wound a secret. So, I tell them the story, or at least, parts of the story. I start with the Battle of Tung Shao and give them the bare minimum of details.

We were ambushed in the Tung Shao Pass. We shot all but one of our cannons. The Huns outnumbered us badly. I took the last cannon and used it to start an avalanche.

I pause there for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to tell of my injury.

"Out of anger for what I did, Shan-Yu slashed me with his sword," I state. I try to quickly move on with the story, but of course, that doesn't happen.

"You were injured?" Father asks in surprised horror.

"I'm fine now-"

"Where?"

I use my finger to trace the location of my wound. They are all distressed, as I knew they would be, but after I reassure them for the tenth time, they calm down enough to let me continue with the story.

Li Shang and I ran to escape the avalanche. Khan ran to save us. Shang was swept up in the avalanche. Soon, I was too.

I explain how I saved Shang, and the guys saved us. I tell them about how I lost consciousness. The next part of this story I tell is choppy bits because really, I don't want to talk about it at all. But, they want to know how I was discovered, so I will deliver. I ignore any specific detail about the event, only telling them that my wound caused my gender to be revealed and that Shang spared me in repayment for saving his life. I was left on the mountain.

Mother and Grandma seem fine with this version of the story, but Father gives me a look that tells me that he knows I'm hiding things. He doesn't call me out for it though, just lets me skim over the rest of the story.

I exclude all mentions of Ying and her village and instead skip right to the events at the Imperial City. I make it so that the battle never seems too intense so that the true awfulness of war doesn't show itself. Finally, I tell them about how the Emperor pardoned and thanked me and presented me with the gifts. When I mention that he invited me to continue services in the army and that I had accepted, I watch as Mother lets out a shocked "oh".

"I'm actually an officer," I state, looking at my lap.

"Really?" Father asks.

I nod. "A Lieutenant. I was promoted as Ping, and Shang wanted me to keep my rank."

Father looks at me, perplexed. "Ping?"

I smile mischievously. "Your fake son."

That causes them to chuckle, and I join in. For a moment, it feels like the old days. But, like seemingly all good things for me, the moment ends quickly.

"When was this attack on the Imperial City?" Father questions after a moment. I recognize the look on his face; it is the look he wears when he is trying to figure something out.

"About nine days ago," I answer cautiously.

I watch as he does the mental calculations in his head.

"What kept you away for so long?" he asks finally. "The ride here should have only taken three days if I remember correctly."

"The wound on my side reopened and became infected. I was forced to remain in the city to recover."

Father nods thoughtfully.

Dinner continues with my family asking me questions, to which I answer with just enough to satisfy. When it is over, I go to help Mother clear the table, but Father stops me.

"I want to talk to you," he tells me. "In the garden." It's not a question.


I follow Father out the door and allow him to lead me over to the magnolia tree. We sit on the bench underneath it, and for a moment we are both silent, lost in our own thoughts.

"You were editing the story," he states after a few seconds.

"I told the important bits." I think of Ying. 'Well, most of them.'

"I know how hard it can be to come home after such a long period of violence, especially injured."

"My injury is fine, Baba."

"I saw you wince earlier. It pains you."

"You notice everything, don't you?" I joke lightly.

"Well, you had to get it from somewhere," he jokes back. For a moment he smiles a small smile, but then he is back to being serious. "War has changed you."

"Yes," I whisper.

He takes my hand. I flinch.

"Adjusting back is hard. It takes time." He gives my hand a squeeze. "I haven't always been there for you, Mulan. I'm sorry. If you will let me, I want to be here for you now."

"I would like that very much, Baba."

And for the third time today, he pulls me into his arms.

"That dress doesn't fit you," he states after letting me go. "Mother will have to alter it for you." He pauses for a moment. "Unless you prefer wearing a tunic."

I don't know what to say. Do I hate dresses? Most times, yes. Does the idea of wearing a tunic instead sound much preferable? Again, yes. Then why am I embarrassed that Father asked such a question?

He puts a hand on my shoulder. "It's alright, Mulan. I just, I don't want you to have to feel like you need to pretend anymore."

I smile. "Thank you."

Maybe he's right, maybe I won't have to pretend anymore. Maybe I can just be myself, whoever that is. Maybe I will be, for the first time in a long time, alright.


As I toss and turn in bed, however, "alright" is a long way off. The rest of my family are already asleep in their rooms, but I can't seem to close my eyes. I turn once more, and this time I am facing my dresser. After a brief internal battle, I sigh, throw off my blanket, and trudge over to it. Opening that top draw for what I hope will be the last time today, I pull out the pocketknife Heng gave me. Gripping it tightly in my fist, I close the draw and walk back to my bed. Placing the knife under my pillow, I lay back down in bed, and for some strange reason, having that knife, that protection, right within my reach is enough for me to close my eyes, and, after a few minutes, finally drift asleep.


Author's Note: Alright, we have a lot going on in this chapter. I like to think of this chapter as the foundation for many of the future chapters, as many of the things mentioned in this chapter will be built upon later on. I hope you enjoyed, and make sure to leave a review!