Needed at the front
Shang could barely believe it. He joked to his father in his dispatches that occasionally he found himself expecting to wake up, stiff necked and side sore from having fallen asleep awkwardly in his tent, and it had all been a particularly convincing dream that Fa Ping, the least confident, the least capable, the absolute bottom of the class, had suddenly begun to lap everyone in training, shoot every arrow, complete every sequence with perfect grace and precision. Ping had even defeated Shang in hand-to-hand sparring.
He joked, but initially it was true. He had always believed power and self-control could succeed anywhere, but he had never known it, until now. With Fa Ping's sudden growth into a man, the rest of the troops had suddenly begun to succeed too. After dismissing Ping, he had almost toyed with the idea of dismissing himself. Now, he – and they - could honourably advance to wherever the army might order – straight into battle, if they wanted it.
The problem was convincing Chi-Fu. For months, Chi Fu had had great fun itemizing his every mistake. His report was a classic in how not to train your troops. Suddenly, he would look a fool if the army high command could compare his scathing remarks to a perfectly well disciplined, elite fighting force. His answer was simply to dismiss out of hand any suggestion by Li Shang that they had completed their training, and should now be proceeding with the rest of their mission.
Shang sighed. Once, when he had started his basic training, his father had told him that he envied the simple life of a common soldier. As a young ensign, Shang had spent many long, indescribably dull nights polishing his armour, longing for a chance to prove himself. Since his promotion to captain, and his constant arguments with Chi Fu, he looked back on them with a creeping fondness.
He knew his troops would never be perfect. Chien Po could still barely swim, although he was so large it seemed hardly to matter. Yao was always going to be quick tempered, but loyal. Ling would still try and crack a (desperately unfunny) joke on the way to the scaffold. As for Ping … Shang didn't like to admit it, but Ping spoke to himself in moments of crisis, or when he thought no-one could hear. Shang guessed his real name must be Mushu, or something thereabouts. But then, knowing all this was absolutely necessary for command. He knew all his men's strengths, and their weaknesses. He had to … all of their lives would depend on this knowledge in battle.
I'll hold him… and you punch
It was Ping, eager to please as always. Shang smiled at the boy's stumbling attempts to cheer him up. At least the men were on his side. Well, he corrected himself, at least Ping was on his side. He smiled again as he remembered his own early days in basic training when he tended to idolize his favourite commanders. Shang's father had warned him about maintaining a suitable distance from his troops for this very reason. If, as he strongly suspected, Ping had been ignored by his father, it was to be expected that he would replace him with his commanding officer. It was understandable, if a little embarrassing. Ping would recover, in time. Besides, thought Shang kindly, why shouldn't he allow a young man like Ping to earn his trust? It would be of real benefit to him to eventually feel appreciated, when he truly deserved the accolade.
Fleetingly, Shang wondered if marriage would be anything like that. He would be marrying Ping's sister, after all. But how would he…
Too late, it was a disheveled Chi Fu running towards him, waving a paper in the air. Apparently, he had received an urgent dispatch from the General commanding the reserves to advance. Shang was sceptical. It was unlike his father to issue what was essentially a repeat command – it had always been their intention to rendezvous at the Pass at the end of basic training. It was even more unlike an army courier to give dispatches to the adjutant, and not the commanding officer. And, Shang chuckled, completely unlike any courier he had ever known to completely disappear without trace the moment his message was delivered. Much more likely that Chi Fu had invented the whole thing as a ruse to save face about his abandoned report.
For the first time, Shang felt somewhat at a loss after consulting the training manuals. There seemed to be no instructions that covered outright deception in support of the truth. No matter, smiled Shang, at least they would be obeying orders, after a fashion.