"In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity"

Epilogue: The Greatest Victory

"Uhhhhh." A moan escaped Shang's mouth as the rasp echoed off the plaster walls. He shut his eyes against the blare filtering in through the rice paper windows, his still-pounding head protesting the brightness of the mid-afternoon sun.

"Captain Li?" A soft voice drifted through the door. "Whenever you're ready, Fa Zhou is waiting for you in the garden."

Shang's eyes widened at the sound of his childhood hero's name, and he remembered where he was – and what had led to his arrival. The young man jolted up with a start. "Yes, ma'am! I'll be right there, Madam Fa," he replied. Shang swung his feet onto the wooden floor, and pulled on a foreign set of pants and stockings. He paused, though, as he pulled on the borrowed tunic, the pale blue linen laying heavier –and tighter– than it should upon his back.

Neither the light of day nor the weight of the clothes of a living legend did anything to calm the young captain's nerves as he walked across the dusty courtyard.

At the moon door, Shang spotted an older figure clutching a cane. Over a decade of training took control of his body as Shang took a steadying breath and raised his gaze to meet the elder; while his insides were a violent twist of uncertainty and unease, the young man carried himself as an example of an officer of his station and decoration.

As Shang reached the gate, Fa Zhou spoke, a gentle smile gracing his serene face. "Walk with me, Captain Li."

The pair walked silently along the dirt path in silence, the soft pad of footsteps broken only by the sound of wood upon stone. They stopped only when they reached the bench where Li Shang had met the older man and his daughter only hours before. The younger man stood by and clenched his fists, squeezing out any urge to fidget while the older man sat. Shang's eyes widened and he stood straight as Fa Zhou patted the stone beneath him, inviting the young man to sit with him. Li Shang, of course, obliged.

Breathing in the heavy air of late spring, Fa Zhou smiled. Shang pulled mindlessly at the borrowed tunic – Fa Zhou's tunic – he couldn't help but remind himself. After a moment, the older man broke the silence. "How old are you, Captain?"

"Twenty-one, Sir. I'll be twenty-two shortly after the summer solstice."

"Mmmmm." Fa Zhou hummed. "I have not been in the army for a long time, Captain Li, but if I recall correctly that is quite young for such a command." Shang gave a quiet nod willing his blood not to flush his ears. The late spring breeze weaved gently through the leaves of the magnolia above them.

"Your commanders – and your father – must have seen great promise in you."

Shang swallowed the mass strangling his larynx. "Yes, sir. I hope I can live to their expectations."

The elder man continued. "I knew your father well when we were in the army. I have no doubt that he would have been proud of you, Captain." Fa Zhou did not look at the younger man, but the kindness in his voice nevertheless enveloped Shang. Yet, as the warmth of his hero's compliment glowed within his heart, the young man felt the icy tendrils of the Tung Shao Pass wrap around his stomach as his mind returned to the events there.

After a few seconds Li Shang dared to speak again. "On the note of expectations, sir, your daughter has surpassed any expectations a commander could have for his soldiers. Though I am afraid I had nothing to do with her triumph at the Eternal City. If anything, your daughter's honor and success is in spite of my training." He took a breath. "She's a tactical genius, sir"

A beam of pride was dulled as a brief shadow of anxiety flickered across the older man's features. Fa Zhou gazed at the young man beside him and nodded, his eyebrows raised knowingly before continuing on. "A word of advice, from an old commander to a younger one, Captain Li." Shang raised his head attentively. "Battle and leadership is a balance of many virtues. Much of the true struggle of an officer's career is fought not on the battlefield, but within the walls of the Imperial City itself. Excessive humility, while magnanimous, often does little neither for wisdom nor for the truth." Shang held the gaze of his idol, his eyebrows raised in an unspoken question. "Just as you were responsible, in some way, for any shortcomings among your troops, so too do you bear the responsibility for training the and preparation you gave your men – and my daughter – to face battle." The old man sighed with a smile. "In so many words, Captain Li: do not sell yourself short."

"I…, Ummmm…" the young man stuttered, taking a large gulp, unsure of what to make of the gentle rebuke hiding a rather weighty compliment. "Thank you for wise counsel, sir."

"That being said," Fa Zhou glanced at Shang, one corner of his mouth pulling into a twinkling grin, "we are not in the Capital. She is indeed a rare gem." The old man chuckled, lost briefly in his own fatherly pride, seemingly oblivious to the deafening cries of chickens screeching in the courtyard. "I suppose if she's managed to recruit the dog into doing her chores for her, I should not have been surprised that she managed to outsmart an entire army."

Li Shang couldn't help but look towards the ruckus as a wildly squawking brood chased a small dog around the back of the house. However, knot in Shang's core twisted again as he spied Fa Zhou's face glow with pride. "Sir, I also wanted to say–" Shang stammered. "Ummm… sir…" He struggled to find the words that would explain everything that had happened on the mountain.

"Please," The older man gave a gentle pat to the young captain's back, almost like Fa Zhou could read, if not the captain's mind, then the guilt written on his heart . "There are things better left said only to one's comrades at arms."


The conversation quickly shifted to more casual topics, with Fa Zhou mostly seeking updates from the young captain on the state of the academy, officer corps, and current whereabouts of his own former comrades at arms – many of whom had now retired or sought teaching posts at the academy. Before long, the late spring sun began to sink towards the horizon, the shadows at last stretching, becoming generous with their shade; the men walked back towards the house.

Li Shang could feel his insides dance as they entered the sitting room, but Fa Mulan was nowhere to be seen. In the distance, he could hear the clash of metal on metal as two yelps shortly followed. Shang could not help himself as a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Fa Zhou bowed his head and excused himself, explaining that his wife would be in for the young man shortly.

Indeed, within minutes, Fa Li came to escort him into the dining room, where Mulan's grandmother sat already at the table. Shang's stomach lept into his throat as he caught the mischievous glimmer in her wizened eyes. From the other doorway, Mulan entered with her father, still deep in quiet conversation. Seeing her, he couldn't help but catch his breath - she positively floated in a dark blue blouse and flowing green skirt, beaming at him as she served the tea.

Before him lay a veritable feast - a sharp contrast to the months of unflavored rice, fish, and on occasion, pork, that had been his only sustenance. Instead sat piles of chicken sautéed with onion and mulberry leaves, gingered rice, cooked vegetables from the garden, with egg buns and fresh mulberry and so many other fruits of the late spring harvest.

Despite the aches of battle and loss, he relaxed into the easy familiarity of dinner with the Fa Family, more comfortable than he had been in months.

Two pairs of feet padded silently across the courtyard. Passing through the moon gate onto the dewy grass, the owner of the smaller pair interrupted the choir of crickets filling the night air.

"I am so sorry for what my grandmother said," Mulan groaned, her head shaking back and forth. "I promise, that's usually not how we greet guests."

Shang chuckled "No, it's alright." He rubbed his head. "She, uh, kept things interesting." Shang found himself glad that the pale moonlight washed away the red blush burning at his cheeks.

"Interesting" was a bit generous, if technically true. It was certainly different from any dinners at home or at the academy – though he had to admit the Fa elder's brand of ribbing was a welcome change from his older sister's usual taunts. To his pleasant surprise, dinnertime teasing was somewhat easier to swallow when it wasn't accompanied by a side of sibling rivalry. The old woman was kind and wise- but had no qualms about embarrassing anyone at dinner- the guest included. To be honest –while it wasn't what he had expected when he accepted the invitation, Shang wasn't offended by the jabs from the octogenarian.

To be completely honest, he found he actually welcomed some of the comments the elder made about Mulan and him as, well, "an item,": Grandmother Fa's eight – no, nine– marriage proposals on Mulan's behalf strangely made him feel more confident about coming all the way to the estate in the first place. Still, her teasing had, at moments, made the meal exceedingly awkward.

"That's an understatement." Mulan shook her head again. "Over eighty years old and still can unsettle the spirits."

"Must run in the family."

Mulan's mouth betrayed the shadow of a scowl before a her wide grin beamed in the pale moonlight. "I didn't know you could joke," she retorted. "Are you sure your head is alright?" Hearing her soft chuckle join the chorus of crickets, as they stopped over a bridge.

"I'm a man of many talents, Fa Mulan" Shang said. The dryness of his voice betrayed only by the smile in his eyes.

Shang leaned over onto the stone wall and looked out onto the pond beneath them. The glassy surface of the water below perfectly mirroring the sparkling night sky above.

"But really, how are you feeling?" Mulan interjected softly. "Are you sure you don't want my mother to take a look at your arm? She's a very good healer."

"Honestly, I can barely feel that anymore," he shrugged, rubbing the sore spot where the arrow scratched. It still smarted, but it was the least of his injuries "Right now it really is just my head," he admitted. His mouth pulled back into a crooked smile. "Though," he laughed, "I'm not sure how much of that is the mijiu your grandmother made me drink."

Shang watched out the side of his eyes as Mulan's fingers fidgeted. "Are you sure you don't need anything?" she questioned.

"No, no, it's fine. Thank you" He stressed as he shook his head gently. His forehead did still smart from his tussle with Shan Yu, but despite the soreness, he could tell it was the kind of headache that would linger for days at most, rather than weeks. "I'm also tired and it's not that bad. Really. I think at this point, it just needs some rest." Shang looked over. "I'm not sure I've gotten a full night's sleep since the campaign started."

Shang turned around leaning back against the bridge, allowing himself to gaze gently at the woman next to him.

"If you need to stay an extra day to rest, you're more than welcome here." Shang's eyes widened, unbidden, caught off-guard at the forwardness of her suggestion. His heart retaliated,swelling with a warm gurgle of hope. Mulan hastily continued, bringing a hand to her neck "There's an acupuncturist and an apothecary in town, of course."

"Well, – I do need to thank you and your parents for letting me stay the night" he started slowly. Shang crossed his arms close to his chest, as if trying to hold in the nascent ache blooming within his chest. "But, uh, I need to go home and help my family put, uh, to help sort out the funeral and my father's affairs..."

Mulan winced. "Oh I'm sorry, I forg- well, no, I didn't, I didn't mean" Mulan gasped as her hands flew to her mouth.

Shang's eyebrows knit together, the pains of grief, longing, and the burdens that lay ahead etching themselves on his face. "No, no it's alright." Shang sighed, then turned back around to stare down into the water. The stars danced across the blackness below, and the grieving son couldn't help but wonder if his father currently faced the hells of darkness and mirrors below, or if his spirit was already destined for the heavens above.

After what seemed like a small forever, the young woman cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I can only imagine…" she trailed off, letting the heavy conclusion of that thought remain unsaid.

They stood in silence, alone together each in their personal maze of solitude and loss. After several moments, Shang broke the silence.

"It's just strange to think that I'm in charge of it all now. For my family, I mean," he offered quietly. "I've needed to help fill in and take care of arrangements for my siblings and mother when father was away for years now," he shook closed his eyes, "but now, I'm responsible for all of them."

"You have big family?" the woman gently entreated. "What's that like?" she questioned, her voice eagerly seizing upon the chance to at least change the topic slightly.

"A bit crazy, to be honest" he sadly smiled as a muted chuckle escaped his lips. "And its not even that big- I'm only one of four, though it feels so much more chaotic." He turned towards her. "We're all very different people." He thought of his siblings -and smiled. "It's unfortunate circumstance but I'm looking forward to seeing them at least. Even my older sister."

He sighed, and continued on, his lips uncharacteristically limber under the potent influence of moonbeams and liquor. "She doesn't even live with us – she's been married for 6 years – but her family lives only a quarter-day's walk away, and seems to come home whenever we do from the capital." He paused, the realization leaving his lips before he even had a chance to process it. "As meddling as she can be, I'm glad she'll be there."

"I'm glad you'll have them." she offered quietly. She paused for a moment, seemingly in thought. "It's always just been me and my parents and grandmother for as long as I can remember." Shang glanced towards her, his face unwilling to disguise his curiosity to learn more.

Catching his unspoken question, Mulan continued on. "When I was little, I had two younger brothers… They were twins – born early, but they survived for a little while. But then Baba went off to war…" her voice grew quiet, almost a whisper. "They were only a few months old."

"Is that where you got the name Ping? from one of them?" the captain questioned, his voice careful and delicate, as if he would wake the still-sleeping infants if spoken of too loudly.

"No, definitely not" Mulan shot him a look- and Shang cursed himself for bumbling the situation. "'Flower Pot'? You can't believe my father couldn't have come up with better names? No, they were just too young for their naming ceremony… The young woman's shoulders shrugged with a sigh. "but that's why I had to go."

As if of one mind, both Mulan and Shang pushed back from the bridge and began to walk again, silent as they continued along the creek's path. They kept walking until they came to a broken statue overlooking the pond. Still lost in thought, Shang picked up a handful of rocks from the rubble, and started tossing them across the water.

The whispered whiz of stone on water echoed in the night. "Shang?" Mulan's voice interrupted the rocks' rhythmic skipping. "I'm sorry I had to lie to you."

Shang looked at her, surprised. Between the wine, or exhaustion, or headache, his mind struggled to remember what she had to apologize for in the first place. In response, the icy tendrils of the Tung Shao Pass reached up from his abdomen. Oh. That.

"I understand. A good soldier knows when deception is necessary." He smirked for a second as he thought of the other great act of deception she orchestrated- and the hilariously horrendous concubines she made of some of his troops. His face grew serious again, a remorseful smile still tugging at his cheek. "I'm sorry too. I should have believed you at the parade."

"You heard Chi Fu," Shang couldn't help but roll his eyes. "It is – was – the law."

After a breath, she gazed up at him, a question shimmering behind her dark eyes. Uncertainty and anticipation gripped him as he tried to read her face for any clue "Why did you break the law though? Why didn't you execute me?" The only sound Shang could hear was the plop as the stone dropped into the water.

Li Shang looked out upon the pond, searching for the answer to Mulan's question in the depths below.

He thought of course to Mulan- of her determination and sacrifice and talent. Her approach to battle could be read as its own little eduction in both warfare and life. While certainly unorthodox, Mulan had worked harder than any other soldier in his squadron, mastering the myriad arts of combat and martial discipline. Yet, Mulan still let her instincts guide her when prudent, and her victory at the Eternal City was a testament to filial love. Indeed, it was this respect for the family that saved them all from destruction. The faces of his mother, his siblings – his father – seemed to shimmer in the pond's reflection. Shang shook his head and rolled another stone still in his fist.

His thoughts then floated to the teachings of the scholar Sun Tzu, and of Shang's own instruction in the Academy. Li Shang's brain swirled with images of markers and figurines staging an elaborate dance across countless maps. Maybe the wise scholar was wrong; or rather, not wrong, but his model was incomplete.

The Art of War- it is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. As soldiers we do what is necessary to survive. We learn to think in strategies and steps, moves and counter-moves that seem nearly formulaic once all the variables are accounted for. But behind the figures and formulas are individual soldiers fighting the battles, and the soldiers who wage war are still human. Under the armor and metal padding remains men – and women - of flesh and bile and blood.

Li Shang turned to look back at Mulan - she entered the army out of for love of her father - the most noble reason of all – but, in doing so, engaged in deception against the Son of Heaven himself. She worked tirelessly to become the near-perfect warrior, yet she ultimately disarmed Shan Yu not with her strength, but with her femininity.

It was the balance of seeming contradiction that lead to her succeeding where even his father's greatest troops could not. The concentration on Mulan's face matched his own as she met his eyes. Shang turned back to the pond.

"I've wondered that myself," he began, his words hanging heavy in the humid spring air. The young man turned the a stone over again in his palm before tossing it into the black mirror below. It plopped unceremoniously into the water. "A part of it really is as simple as what I said in the pass." He stared straight ahead, and swallowed, not daring to look at the woman who stood by his side. "You saved my life on the mountain. All of ours, really. You were - are - a hero and I owe you my life." With a hearty throw, he flung the last shard of stone he picked off the statue across the pond.

"I guess though..." he paused, watching the ripples grow larger and larger. "I guess I also wished that I could have done what you did." He caught the questioning cock of her head out of the corner of his eye. "Not the rescue. Not that. I mean, thank you, and I am grateful, but also – at one level – that's just what comrades do." Li Shang closed his eyes, trying to regain some composure and order to his thoughts.

"No, it's what you said about why you came in the first place." Shang took a deep breath. "I wish I could have done for my father what you did for yours." Li Shang opened his eyes and paused, holding Mulan's gaze. "I saw you, and I saw my father's helmet in the snow, and I… I… " he took another breath, "Law or not, I just couldn't punish someone's sacrifice for their father."

The admission weighed upon them like a mantle, its substance punctuated only by the sound of frogs croaking from within the blackened waters.

In the heavy silence, Shang's thoughts continued to drift, weightless and free. They flitted from his father, to hers, to her, to the Emperor bowing to her, to Mulan rejecting the Son of Heaven, to Chi Fu of all people, to the hint –command?– the Emperor gave to come here in the first place. Shang dizzied thinking of the twisting turn of events of the past week, and he could only marvel at Mulan's ability to defy all expectations. "So what are you going to do next?" he muttered aloud.

"Wha-?"

"I mean," he coughed, "what are you going to do now that you're back home?" Shang reached down for another stone and flicked it across the water, grateful again to the gods and ancestors that the flush in his ears was blanched by the cool grace of the moonlight.

Mulan drew in a sharp breath, and Shang spun his head instinctively. He glanced towards her as she scrunched her face in confusion. "Do you want to know the truth?" she said after a breath. The captain gave a gentle nod in assent.

The pair turned fully towards one another, locking eyes. "I don't know." Mulan breathed out. "I'm glad to be home, but I don't think I can go back to the life I had. i need to go forward but," her eyes lowered, glancing back down on the reflection below. "I don't know what that looks like."

His eyes searched hers. "You have options you know" Shang felt the blush creep further up his neck, unsure of why this of all topics was making his heart flutter.

"Like?" He heard her ask, the unexplainable uncertainty plain in her tone. Did she not know that, as China's Savior, the the entirety of the Middle Kingdom was open before her? "Well, I mean …" the young man started. Images of her flashed before his eyes, of Mulan in a general's armor, commanding an entire battalion; of her beside the Emperor on his council; of her clothed in jade and crimson, a phoenix crown resting upon her head.

"You always have a space in the Army!" he entreated, tensing almost instantly at how forward and eager he sounded. " I mean, I'm sure you would be able to command, or teach or be part of the Academy, and uh, if you wanted to come in the field again but uh, I know you said you wanted to go home and, I mean." Shang cleared his throat, uncharacteristically incapable of stopping the cascade of words from his lips. "And there's the emperor's council- I'm sure he would work something out for you" "and I'm sure your home will see a whole parade of suitors and–" Li Shang stopped suddenly, unable to finish the sentence. His stomach knotted as the image of a faceless someone, standing beside her dressed in crimson inserted itself in his mind.

Li Shang shifted his weight and shook his head, He glanced up to the stars, begging them to draw him back to his senses – or at least supplant that possible future. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his deep voice resonated with sincerity. "What I mean to say is that anyone would be honored to be with you, to serve alongside you, whatever you decide to do. And –with the emperor's approval – you can decide to do nearly anything."

Both soldiers sighed as they gazed into the inky blue fields before them, one expanse above and one reflected below. Neither Mulan nor Shang missed the subtext in the young captain's counsel, but neither could they find the right words to address the growing tension. At least the night had the decency to mask the glow now hot on both their faces.

The remains of sleep still dusting his eyes, Shang awoke to a new day. He was unsure of how late they had ended up talking, but somehow last night they had pushed past the awkward unspoken uncertainties, laughing with each other until the moon was low and the first hints of dawn lined the horizon. Still, the mixture of excitement from the night before and anxiety from the duties that awaited him at home drew him from the soft bed.

After inhaling a quick – yet delicious – breakfast prepared for him by Fa Li, Li Shang packed his horse, and rode out into the courtyard. "Thank you – Honorable Fa Zhou, Madam Fa. Dama Fa-" He bowed his head at the young woman who had scurried in line next to her parents, barely containing his smile. Fa Mulan's eyes also fought the heaviness from the previous night; her mussed hair betraying her doubtless frantic race to see him off. "Fa Mulan." The young captain nodded his head as he uttered her name. "For everything."

Li Shang bowed his head again to his hosts, and turned his steed towards the gates. As he brought his horse to a trot, Captain Li Shang couldn't help but reflect upon what he had told Fa Zhou about his daughter, and what he had admitted to Mulan herself. He thought of what lay behind and what lay before – of horrendously awkward conversations with his sister about marriage, of his new duties as head of the Li family, of war, of battle, of filial piety. In the academy and in his life so far, those spheres had been so separate, so distant. Even with his father under his command, love and war had remained separate, distinct spheres with their own duties and never the twain shall mix. While war was based on deception, on planning, on protection; love and family were concerned with honesty, with surprise, and with vulnerability - the yang to war's yin.

Out of the corner of his eye, Li Shang caught a now-familiar form emerge from the courtyard, waving him farewell. Maybe, however…

Like how disciplined military victory depended upon surprise and innovation, like how a woman with a fan and a dress ended up becoming the military hero of China, like how yin and yang themselves entwined themselves in harmony and balance – maybe love and war were not compartmentalized separate spheres after all. Maybe the art of love as well as the art of war are truly matters of both life and death. Maybe they were one in the same- incomplete, unbalanced without the other somehow involved.
And maybe if he was lucky, he'd have the opportunity to test that theory out.

Smiling to himself, Shang yanked on the reigns and turned the horse back around, pushing his steed to race back to the gates.

"Mulan," he cried as he pulled his horse to a halt. The young woman stopped mid-turn, clearly confused.

"Yes?"

"Is it alright if I come back? To see you? After, well, after I go home, and …you know. Handle with everything there."

The corners of her mouth pulled to reveal a wide grin. "Of course."

"Great." he smiled, and bowed his head again towards Fa Mulan, the savior of China.

With a tug of his reigns, he turned away again from the Fa house. He smirked to himself as a gravelly and distinct "woohoo!" from what could only be Grandmother Fa reached his ears. He and his steed came to a canter, speeding away towards the road, towards his family, towards home. Towards whatever the future held.

After all, he thought to himself, remembering the Emperor's words to him as he left the Imperial City. "Opportunities multiply as they are seized."