Over the next few days, Ping managed to enjoy himself. The men were grouchy, all complaining about their aching feet and weary muscles, but he didn't care. Never in his life had Ping felt so included in a group.

He thought of Mulan and her determination to have him join in. However, neither of them had ever had much interest in other children. Both those on the farm and those in the town had always considered the siblings as odd, and they had never bothered to hide their opinions.

This was different. Here, Ping marched alongside the men, listening to the chatter; he had no hesitation to say his own piece on certain topics. There was more than one farmer with them, and Ping happily discussed what happened on his parents' farm and what he had observed.

"I told you." Chien-Po was laughing. "I do not mind appearance."

"Beauty on the inside?" Ping was grinning as he guided Tianma along.

"A kind woman who can cook. You cannot judge flavour on the look of a meal. Fancy toppings may mask flaws."

"Flaws can be burnt away with spice." smirked Ling, winking at Ping when he looked over. The younger man blushed, his own imagination quickly filling in blanks.

"Spice should only be used to enhance the meal itself."

"I don't know... I like my food hot." Ling objected, but everyone was grinning as they trekked through the snow.

"Recipes call for more than one ingredient. Even a good lump of ginger does not make up a meal if there is little else to it."

"Are they still talking about women? Or are they actually on about food now?" Ping asked Yao curiously, wondering if he had lost track of the conversation.

"I think it's nice they have such clear ideas." Lei muttered. "I want someone who will make me happy, but I could not begin to say what qualities she may possess."

"I don't want any woman." Ping sighed, eyes on the snow as he pushed his way through. It was starting to get deep.

"Don't your parents expect you to wed?"

"I hope not. They've never mentioned it to me. Grandmother said it's because they don't like to view us as adults yet." Neither had been excited for Mulan's visit to the matchmaker. He wondered if they had been expected Mulan to make a mess of things, or if it was because they still viewed their children as young.

"What the..."

The marching had stopped, and Ping raised his eyes to see what was holding them up.

There was clearly fire before them, though they were upwind of the smoke, the orange glow from the distant flames was unmistakable. Ping handed Tianma's rein to Lei before pushing forwards.

"It's so quiet." he whispered, wide eyes taking in the burning village. There were no cries, no shouts of panic... there was a stillness to the air, despite the crackling of the fire as it burnt down buildings. "Where is everyone?"

The only reply was a crash as a wooden beam fell.

"Search for survivors!" Shang instructed, the concern visible on his face for just a moment before it was hidden behind the face of Captain Li.

Ping stepped took back his horse's reins before walking into the village. The remains of buildings nearby were smouldering, the fires mostly faded, but Ping could feel the heat left over. Further in, the flames still licked at homes.

Survivors... No voices permeated the thick air. He could not even hear animals... Ping walked softly through the remains, the crunch of the snow audible in the silent shock of the men. Passing through a stone archway, he crouched down.

A doll.

It was a child's toy, tiny and undamaged. With trembling fingers, Ping reached out.

"What happened here?" he breathed as he straightened up and looked around at the charred ruins.

"Let... Let's just keep looking." Even Mushu sounded shaken.

"Captain!" Chi-Fu shouted, all confidence knocked from his voice as he pointed down.

Ping let go of Tianma and took a deep breath. Shang's face had gone pasty; it couldn't be good. As he approached, Chien-Po came up a bank with a helmet cradled in his large hands. Ping forced his feet to move, a sickly feeling churning in his stomach even before he looked down at the scene.

"No." Ping gaped at the horrific sight.

Much like the rest of the village, the wagons of the army still glowed with dying flame. Even upwind, Ping could smell the foul stench that rose from the plain. The battle had been fought with both sword and fire, and it was clear from the bodies strewn across the snow that General Li's forces had not been enough.

A metallic hiss rang through the air, and Ping's heart ached to see Shang drop to his knees. He moved slowly, unsure of how his love might react; grief made people act strangely. As he got there, Shang was getting to his feet and turning away.

"I'm sorry." he said, louder than he had spoken since arriving.

Shang didn't reply though, simply grabbing Ping's shoulders and staring into his eyes for a moment. The younger man didn't know what the captain was looking for, or if he found it, because a moment later, Shang had let go and headed back over to the troops. Ping followed, tucking the doll into his armour. He couldn't leave something that represented innocence behind with only dead soldiers for company.

"The Huns are moving quickly. We'll make better time to the Imperial City through the Tung Shao Pass. We're the only hope for the emperor now. Move out!"

As they headed further up into the mountains, Shang was a silent leader as he sat tall upon Yeung; it was a sight Ping could barely take in. Mostly, he kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, one hand tight around Tianma's rein and the other out in front as he made his legs move.

For all their efforts to build up strength and stamina, Ping felt as weak as ever. He climb was steep and Shang didn't slow down. His attention was clearly on the Huns, and gaining vengeance for his father. Pin's thoughts circled Shang.

He had no idea how to comfort someone in this situation. He felt helpless as he considered the fact that Shang had been his father's favourite son, the one he had loved and believed in. Ping had no idea what it was like to be held in such light, only to have the light so violently extinguished.

If anything, he'd probably do better empathising with Shang's brothers. Seventeen and eleven, he remembered. One year younger than him, and seven years younger than him, and neither one considered important by General Li.

He wasn't sure how old Shang was, now that he thought about it. Mid-twenties, maybe? He wasn't old... But it was difficult to get lost in Shang's features when they flitted from angry to miserable to blank and back again.

"One week to go." Chien-Po stated quietly as he walked beside Ping.

"Huh?"

"Until the Chongyang Festival." The large, gentle man gave Ping a miserable smile. "We're climbing the mountain too soon."

"Maybe in one week, all this will be over and we can climb again. With our dogwood pouches around our necks."

Words died out again and they wondered where they might be in a week's time. Dead, perhaps, or bleeding out on a doomed battlefield as the Huns cut them down. Ping couldn't see anyway their company could match the forces they were up against, never mind over come them.

Maybe in the city, where there were many people who could take up arms. But still, people had sent out their best to fight... those mostly likely to survive. Perhaps there were other companies that had not been there, others who would be close enough to help.

Even so, the fight couldn't happen in the city. People would die.

In the mountains, then? They were only a small company, easy to pick off.

"Mushu?" he whispered, slowing slightly to let Chien-Po move in front of him.

"What is it?" The guardian had been quiet, his usually loud personality subdued in light of what they were up against.

"If we find them on the way through this pass, how do we fight them?"

"They're heading to the city." Mushu replied, the confusion evident in his voice.

"And what if they come back and ambush us?" He hissed. He knew it was over planning, but he didn't care. "High ground. You're supposed to have high ground."

"We're surrounded by high ground." Mushu had apparently decided to join in anyway.

"We don't have the strength to win, so we have to use tactics."

"What tactics?"

"I have no idea." Ping frowned, looking around for inspirations.

"There's nothing around here but snow. All the rocks are hidden underneath it and we aren't."

"Maybe we should be... No, better than that. Maybe they should be."

"What?"

"But how..."

But before he could fully consider it, an arrow knocked Shang off his horse.

"Shang!" Ping yelled, spinning around to see where it had come from.

"So much for high ground. Run!" Mushu yelled, and he was right. Ping hadn't considered the idea of an ambush seriously enough. They were surrounded.

"Get out of range!" the Captain yelled as he got to his feet, and the troops began to run.

The arrows kept falling though, and Ping didn't dare look up at their enemy. Instead, he focussed on leading his horse through the snow as they were fired upon.

The wagon attached to Tianma caught fire and memories of the burning village came to mind.

"Help, please!" He cried as she reared back, the arrows now lit on fire. "Please!"

The others kept running, heading down the pass. No one was risking getting hit by looking around wildly. He had stopped though, unwilling to leave Tianma and their fire power.

"Shang! Jian! Anyone?!"

"Save the cannons!" yelled Shang, and the soldiers stared to run back.

With Mushu in his armour rather than the wagon, Ping cut his horse loose before turning back to help.

"Empty it!" Shang's voice was clear over the cries, and Ping was already half inside the burning structure as he passed the cannons back.

"That's most of 'em!" Yao shouted, pulling Ping back before letting go and running. The young man wrapped his arms around the final cannon he had retrieved and hurried after the others.

The force of the explosion nearly knocked Ping's legs out from underneath him, but with some scrambling he kept going. As they approached their own soldiers, Ping noticed them firing cannons at the mountain side.

"That's it." He stopped. The archers were retreating now, but Ping's eyes weren't on them, nor were they on the main body of the Hun army as it appeared over the rise. He was looking at the mountains that surrounded them.

Being a small company would surely be an advantage now.

"Get to cover. Go high!" He instructed as he ran further down.

Flint in hand, he aimed up the mountain to where the snow was untouched and likely far looser... more movable... A spark sent the cannon up, and the battle cries of the opposing soldiers was drowned out by a rumbling from up high. Ping's face had been far too close to the cannon, but while his body had been protected by his armour, his face was burnt. The pain was distant though, dismissed as unimportant by the adrenaline that surged through him.

"Shit." Ping swore softly as the army continued to advance. He stepped back as he willed the mountain to fall faster. "Going then."

He turned and ran, unable to judge where the army was behind him over the roar of the avalanche. A sword caught his side, causing him to yell out, but momentum kept him going.

"Come on, come on, come on!"

Shang hadn't listened it seemed, as he urged his horse towards Ping.

"Let's go!" He cried, pulling the young man up and they turned.

Shang was able to ride with the flow, but they were moving quickly towards a drop. He let out a scream, fear freezing is muscles more effectively than the snow that surrounded them.

They tumbled though, Yeung was unable to stay upright and Shang and Ping lost their seat. They didn't plummet though, and after a moment, Ping opened his eyes.

There was a rope... and they were hanging from it. Shang had an arm around Ping as he hung onto a rope.

"H-Hold on!" Shang gasped, and the younger man quickly wrapped arms and legs around his captain. Moments later, they were being hoisted up, but Ping shut his eyes again. It was a long way down.

"Step back, guys. Give them some air."

The feel of unmoving snow was welcome, but Ping didn't want to let go of Shang. The cries of the other were incomprehensible as his injuries caught up with him.

Everything was so hot though...

"Ping? Ping! Get help! He's hurt!"

So hot...

His eyes slid shut as Shang held him close.

When Ping opened his eyes again, his whole body ached.

"Huh?" he grunted, looking around. He was in a tent with Shang sat beside him. He could see his armour behind the man, and on the floor was the doll he had picked up.

"You're awake!" Shang was over him in an instant, eyes wide as he looked him over. "How do you feel?"

"Great." He was actually in a lot of pain, but there was no way he would tell Shang that.

"Your side's been bound up, and this salve is for your face."

"Are we still in the mountains?"

"We were waiting for you to wake up." Shang shifted back, helping Ping as he sat up.

"What happened?"

"You wiped them out." Shang grinned at him, though the expression was brief. "They'll kill no more."

"What we doing now?" he slurred, head dropping onto Shang's chest as they sat together.

"We have the sword of Shan-Yu. We'll present it to the Emperor."

"Hmm." He shut his eyes again.

He wanted to object, if the Huns were defeated, then he would have to go home. They would maybe spend that day together, then all of Ping's fantasies would be shattered. It was too much effort to put this into words though. He'd have to mention it when he awoke later on.

"Get some rest. We've sent Lei and Jian ahead to warn them, but we can take a slower pace. We've not far to go anyway."

Ping gave a slight sigh in response, but thankfully Shang didn't seem to be after an actual answer. He simply sat and rubbed Ping's back gently, lulling him back to sleep.