Hello, sorry for the delay, but this chapter needed a while and I made my thoughts about the story and I'm going to write three stories more for this story line.

Well then, enjoy the chapter.

20. The Missing Dumplings

"Dad?" Po looked into the kitchen. "Did you see Shen?"

Po had worried about the peacock and had dared to take a look into his room, but it was empty.

Mr. Ping was busy to make a little dinner for their hosts. "Oh, as far as I know he went out."

"In this weather? It's snowing heavily."

Mr. Ping shrugged his shoulders. "That's what I said to him, too, but he seemed to be very abstracted."

The panda rubbed over his head. "Alright. Thanks."

With that, he walked to the house door, but before he opened it another sheep crossed his way.

"Excuse me, do you know where Shen is?"

"He is standing outside," the sheep answered. "And is staring dead ahead."

"And where exactly?"

"Look through the window."

Po did. But he had to look twice until he realized the white peacock on a hill not far away from the house in the dark snowed night.

"How long has he been standing there?"

But the sheep was already gone. Po battled with himself whether he should go over to the lord or not. Finally, he opened the door. An icy wind flew into his face. Footprints of a bird leaded away from the house in the snow.

Carefully, Po made one step after another through the snow, closer and closer to the peacock who didn't move.

"Is he going to spend the night here?" Po asked himself.

A cold wind blew over the landscape. But he didn't feel it. The white lord just stared ahead like in wide distance.

"Shen?" A voice called him, but he didn't react. "Shen? Hey! It's cold and snowing, don't you see it?"

He didn't answer. Not even if a white-black figure appeared in front of him and waved with his paws.

"Shen?" The panda looked at him with an apprehensive glance. "Can you hear me?"

"How can you stand it, panda?" an apathetic voice said.

Po dilated his eyes in surprise. "Standing what?"

For the first time a deep sigh came over the lord's lips. "How can you stand to see me?"

"Uuuuuhhh…" Po had no idea what the peacock wanted to hear. A philosophic thing or something? "Well, meh, seeing someone is a very, very complex notion."

The panda forced a smile, but Shen's face was like stone. Po looked ahead and tried to find out where the peacock was staring the whole time. But all what he saw was snow and darkness. He paid his attention back to the lord who still didn't change his position.

Po rubbed over his neck and dared a new try of communication. "Are you… are you thinking about her?"

Again just silence. Po meant to give up, but then the white bird moved his beak. "Snow is a beauty, isn't it?"

Po looked around with irritation. "Uh,… yees. We, uh, we all like snow, don't we?"

"Although your parents died on a snowed night?"

This time it was Po who gave a deep sigh. With a silent thud, he let fall himself in the snow and watched the peacock silently. His wish to see in his mind grew up with every cold minute. What's going on in the lord's head? It had to be the letter. Xinxin had just told him parts, no more, because of the secrecy of letters. But it was enough for the panda to understand what the peahen had felt for the army leader of Gongmen City.

Still silent Po drew something in the snow before he looked up again. "I'm sure she will forgive you."

Suddenly, without warning the lord turned away and walked down the hill with firmly footsteps. "I'm feeling cold."

"I- I didn't mean…"

But Shen interrupted him with a warning rising of his wing while he didn't stop walking. And without one word more, he entered the house and left the panda alone in the snow.

Shen didn't think about where he went and was. He just walked around without target and followed some lights. And that is how it came that he found himself in the kitchen of the house where Mr. Ping was still working.

The gander turned around when he saw a movement in the corner of his eye. "Oh, welcome, sir! I didn't expect you, sorry for the mess."

He made a low bow, Shen returned the gesture, then he walked over to the table and seat himself on a pillow.

Mr. Ping watched him and moments later he put a bowl of soup on the table.

The white ex-prince eyed it but he pushed it away. "I'm not hungry."

The gander looked at him in confusion. But the peacock folded his wings together and shirked from his glance. Mr. Ping took the bowl away and put it back on the sink. Then he took a spoon and stirred the soup in the boiler.

For a while nobody spoke a word, until Mr. Ping cleaned his throat.

"Well, it must have been a complete surprise, wasn't it?"

The peacock directed his eyes at him. "How do you know?"

"Po told me."

Shen narrowed his eyes angrily. "In this case, everything, right?"

"I will not let it go any further," Mr. Ping affirmed.

The peacock snorted and looked away.

After seconds of silence, Mr. Ping dared to continue the dialog.

"You had a bad row, hadn't you?"

A shocked silent scream cut the air when a feather knife missed the gander by a hair's breadth. With wide eyes, Mr. Ping stared at it which stuck in the wood wall of the kitchen.

Slowly, he looked at the lord and winced. The white peacock stood there like an attacking leopard. Then he moved back on his pillow very slowly. With a deep sigh, the white bird folded his wings together and fell calm again, but his posture kept tensed.

"You have no idea," it came over the lord's lips, his eyes directed at the table.

Meanwhile Mr. Ping screwed up his courage and pulled the feather knife out of the wall. With the sharp instrument in his wing, he walked to the table and put it gently on it. Shen eyed it a few seconds, then he took it and put it away somewhere in his feathers.

Mr. Ping put his finger feathertips together and watched him.

"That's not a shame," he tried. "In every family can be a dispute."

He froze when Shen's eyes met him icily.

"You can talk," the peacock said fretfully. "For you, it's always easy."

Mr. Ping winced, then he chuckled ruefully. "Well, Po and I weren't of one mind always. I still remember how we had an awful row."

The peacock moved his eyes slowly to the right and back to him.

"Can't imagine," Shen muttered more to himself.

The gander smiled. "Oh yes, it's so long time ago. Po had already learned to speak and it was a warm summer day…"

Many years ago, Valley of Peace, Po's childhood

"Po? Po?"

Mr. Ping looked under the kitchen table. But there was no panda under it.

"Po?"

Now he looked under an inverted pan. But still no little panda.

With a loud sigh, Mr. Ping circled around the kitchen room. Where could he be? He is a child, but not so small that he could overlook him.

"Mr. Ping!?" a loud voice shouted from outside.

The gander winced and looked through the restaurant window. In the entrance frame of the restaurant terrace stood a big rabbit mother. Mr. Ping swallowed. Mrs. Maotu, the neighbor woman, wasn't one of the most peaceful neighbors and most people avoided her.

Mr. Ping was going to greet her, when he realized a little panda by her paw.

"Po!" Mr. Ping left the kitchen and ran at them. "Where have you been?"

But before Mr. Ping could reach Po, Mrs. Maotu pushed him away.

"Under my kitchen window!" she grunted angrily. "I had a bowl of dumplings on the windowsill and now they are gone."

"Gone?" Mr. Ping tried to understand. "Where gone?"

"Ask him." With that, she lifted the panda higher. "And this is what he had this in his hand."

Mr. Ping's eyes grew wide when she held a dumpling at him. Nibbled off.

"Po!"

The restaurateur was speechless.

"I didn't eat them," the little panda muttered.

"Mischievous child!" Mrs. Maotu scolded and gave him a hard push. "Bother yourself about to bring up your child in a better way!"

She threw the panda child to Mr. Ping who fell backwards because of Po's weight.

"You will pay my dumplings."

With that the big rabbit walked away.

"Po, how many times did I tell you, it's not fine to eat the meal from the others." Mr. Ping stood in the kitchen, the little panda in front of him, with crossed hands on his back. "You will apologize to her."

"But I didn't eat them," the little panda insisted.

"And what about the dumpling in your paw?"

"I've found it on the floor."

"After you have eaten the others."

"I didn't eat them."

Mr. Ping narrowed his eyes. "Po, lying is an ugly thing. I know how many times you ate my dumplings without my permission, and you said a hamster had stolen them."

The panda swallowed. "But this time I didn't eat them."

Mr. Ping sighed. Maybe he hadn't been strictly enough.

"Po. Go to your room."

The little panda's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"Children who lie go supperless to bed."

"But I did nothing!"

"Po! To your room!"

The little panda stamped his foot. "I hate you!"

With shocked eyes, Mr. Ping watched how Po ran up the stairs.

"Oh no, what have I done?"

Silently, Mr. Ping stroke the knife on a board deep in thoughts. Never before, he had spoken such hard words. Why had he done that?

"Bother yourself about to bring up your child in a better way!" Mrs. Maotu had told him.

Mrs. Maotu was a very strict woman and nobody would dare to say she would lie. And if she said, she had caught Po at eating her dumplings, it had to be true.

But otherwise, Mrs. Maotu was a very strict mother. With five children, she owned a house, without a husband. And he knew how many things she forbade her children. Mr. Ping had never tolerated her parenting, but he had never been a father before. And he had admonished Po after he had lied at him the last time when he had broken a bowl and wanted to conceal it.

The gander shook his head. He had made it clear to Po that he shouldn't lie to him. And he had never done it again. But did he today?

With a loud sigh, Mr. Ping put the knife aside and walked to the stairs.

"Po?" he cried upwards. "Po, maybe I had overreacted, come down and we will talk about it calmly."

But there was no answer.

Mr. Ping took a deep breath. "Po, please, come down."

Step by step, he climbed up the stairs where Po's room was.

"Po? Did you hear what I said?"

The gander caught his breath when he looked over the edge of the wooden floor. Po's room was empty. There was no panda.

"Po?"

"Po! Po!"

Mr. Ping looked in every hidden alley around the restaurant. But Po was gone.

"Po? Po? I didn't mean it like that! Po!?"

Finally, he knocked against every house door in the neighborhood until he came to Mrs. Maotu.

"Excuse me," Mr. Ping apologized with ducked head when the big rabbit mother looked down at him with angry face. "Did you see my son?"

"And I thought you were here making good the damage of my meal."

Mr. Ping swallowed. "Of course, I will do, but first I have to find my son."

"I don't know where your spoiled child is. I only want to have back my dumplings."

The gander wiped over his forehead. "Maybe your children have seen him."

Mrs. Maotu snorted. "My children would never talk with such a…"

"Yes, yes," Mr. Ping interrupted impatiently. "But can I ask them?"

The big rabbit mother turned around. "If you like. But not too long. My children don't need a bad company."

With lowered head, Mr. Ping followed her into the house. In near of a foldable ladder they stopped. Mrs. Maotu pulled a long blanket what hanged down from the ceiling.

"My parenting is a good model. You should follow that example."

With another hard pulling and her children, five little rabbits, fell down the blanket.

Mr. Ping's eyes grew wide. Not because of the children, but something what rolled between the little rabbits.

Dumplings.

With big eyes the rabbit children looked at them. One of them let disappear a dumpling in his mouth.

Now it was Mr. Ping who spoke with a biting tone. "I- I think you should see to teach your children in a better way."

Completely bedlam, Mr. Ping ran out of the house. When he saw two pigs on a bench, he ran at them. "Excuse me, did you see my son?"

The two pigs exchanged glances.

"But he isn't your son," one of them said.

Mr. Ping threw his wings over his head. "He is my son! I'm just a bad father!"

Without explanation, he ran down the street, always calling Po's name.

"Po! Po!"

Over a half hour he ran crisscross through the village, even in Jade Palace, but he couldn't find a panda or a hint.

Exhausted, he let fall himself on a little stone on the edge of the village.

"Po, where are you?"

Tears filled his eyes.

Silently, he watched the sun, which was going to touch the horizon. Finally, he wiped over his eyes.

"Okay," he spoke to himself. "If I was Po, where would I go?"

Po is eating every time, with good and bad mood, but in a bad mood he has to eat much more. But where should he get something to eat? He wasn't in the village.

Then Mr. Ping had an idea.

It was almost in the twilight when the gander reached the bamboos wood.

First Mr. Ping had planned to scream after Po, but then he was afraid of calling his name loudly. Instead, he called the name very timidly.

"Po?"

First, there has been just silence. But then, a rustling, cracking, chewing.

Slowly and carefully, Mr. Ping walked between the bamboo trees. The eating sounds became louder. He stopped when he saw a little white-black figure which crouched admit gnawed bamboo branches.

The gander made a few big steps forward. "Po! I was worried about you!"

The little panda gave him a petulant look and crammed the next bamboo shoot in his mouth.

The gander rubbed his finger wings together and looked down remorsefully. "Uhm, don't you want to come home?"

Po didn't reply and continued chewing.

With a deep sigh, the gander came closer. "Listen, Po. I have to admit, my reaction was very injudicious and unfair. It was stupid of me to send you to your room. I had to listen to you first. I know, you didn't eat the dumplings. And I'm here to apologize. I'm so sorry, I was wrong."

He made a break while the panda looked at him with full mouth.

Mr. Ping tried a smile, but it disappeared when Po avoided his glance.

Mr. Ping chuckled nervously and came closer. "Po, do you remember about your first try of making noodles?"

The little panda muttered a difficult to understand "yes".

Slowly, Mr. Ping sat down next to him. "Your first try was a tough mud. But you didn't give up to try it again and again."

Po crossed his arms and looked somewhere in the distance.

Mr. Ping cleaned his throat. "Well, what I want to say is, that many things in our life can get broken. But that's just that everyone of us can be a beginner." He folded his wings. "You were a beginner of making noodles. And I? Well, I'm a beginner, too."

Now Po looked at him. "A beginner? You made the noodles good ever."

Mr. Ping laughed. "Well, I'm an absolute beginner of being a father. I also need some tries to make it better. You are a professional at being a child."

"A professional?"

"Oh yes, and an eating champion. These are two more points for you. That's what I will never make."

Both relapsed into silence until Po slid a little closer. "Maybe you can make it with more effort."

With that Po handed him a bamboo shoot. Mr. Ping forced a smile and took a bite. The little panda chuckled when Mr. Ping tried to chew the hard wood.

"Well," the gander muttered between chewing movements of his beak. "A little tough." He stood up and put the bamboo branch aside. "Maybe we should cook something at home."

"Great!" The little panda jumped up. "I'm hungry!"

The gander smiled. "That's my son." And took him by his wing.

Mr. Ping sigh loudly. "And from this day on, our life was one step better."

Lord Shen had listened to him silently and looked at him with empty glance.

Mr. Ping smiled. "But one thing we have learned, as long as love is still present, things can be fixed every time."

The peacock looked away. Did he know what he wanted to say with that?

But Mr. Ping didn't want to speak more about it and turned back to his work.

Po leaned against the corridor wall with a deep sigh after he had heard the story. He remembered that day and he had never forgotten.

Suddenly, the door was opened and a sheep ran inside. Po was afraid when he saw it in its face that the sheep had no good news.

"Where is the lord?" the sheep asked wildly.

Po pointed at the kitchen door. "Uh… kitchen."

Without one word more to him, it ran inside the kitchen.

"Lord Shen! It's about your son!"

Mr. Ping and Lord Shen looked up at the same time.

"I… I'm afraid that… I think he…"