"Besides, soldiers aren't sprouting from the ground, someone needs to make them… to raise and nurture them."
Mulan understood what her husband was implying, part of her was hoping that Shang would be able to appreciate her existence for more than quelling his sexual needs or fulfilling filial duty.
"But, we just did that a few weeks ago―every day, right before you left for your mission," she protested. She quickly regretted her own words, remembering how her mother had often said that even a mighty warrior like her father was still a man with needs, especially after a stressful week and prolonged abstinence.
Shang could have forced her, he had a right to―after all, in Chinese households women were subject to men, she was his supplicant and he was her master. But tonight, he just didn't have the energy or the mood to confront her. Why can't she be submissive and obedient as other wives? Why does she have to be so opinionated? And how can I tame such a rebellious woman? How?...HOW?! The thought compounded more irritation within him. Shang turned to leave. That was when he felt Mulan's hand on his sleeve, bringing him to a halt.
"I.. S-Shang, I am sorry."
She was reminded of what kind of wife she wished to be. Shy and uncertain, Mulan slid her own hands beneath the gap of his shirt. Her parted lips greeted him, dousing his anger.
I shall be a good wife. She promised wordlessly. There was no more fear; no more hesitation; and hopefully, someday, there would be love.
Mulan let him carry her to their bed and submissively obeyed as her husband removed layers of her clothes. She took the initiative to mimic his movements, indicating that she had learned a thing or two from their previous lovemaking. Her trembling hands clumsily undid his clothes, plucked its knot buttons and sent her fingers to trace the granite muscles underneath. Drops of golden candlelight teased her by tracing across his toned muscles, accentuating his god-chiselled chest and dressing his sun-kissed skin in a magnificent halo.
Mulan thought she would be as frightened as she was in their previous lovemaking encounter. But, to her surprise, her body began answering his call; shuddering with blind pleasure under his searing kisses and fervent touch. She couldn't comprehend her inability to control herself when she was near him. It was as though her body had a mind of its own and suddenly became traitorous. But she also noticed that her husband wasn't in a much different place.
Her name was Mei Lan, a sage-looking lady in her eighties who had been working for the Li Family since she was fifteen. When Li Xin, a man who came from a longline silk trader, found his sudden fortune with the royals, she was hired to aid his two wives, who had ten children between them―all boys, with General Li being the youngest. She had been taking care of General Li since he was a toddler, through his teen years, watching him grow into the illustrious leader he currently was.
From the outside, Mei Lan was just an average-looking lady. However, her warm, bubbly and sweet-talking tendency made her personality impossible to hate. She had employed her charming charisma to sniff the truth from the gossip in a household full of contradicting interests and lies. She was one of the few that knew Li's household's darkest secrets, including General's Li previous romantic affair.
Once all of his brothers married, although still living in the same compound, Mei Lan became General Li's personal attendant and the household butler. She was laborious, intelligent and resourceful. She meticulously planned the household budget, scheduled the shifts of the other servants and made sure all the General's needs for food and fresh clothing were met. They talked very little to each other, but Mei Lan could read the General's mind so well, there was a good chance she understood him better than his mother or his wife.
Shang remembered seeing Mei Lan since his first memory began to form. Due to the nature of his work, General Li often had to leave Shang in the capable hands of various handmaids, and Mei Lan was one of them. At first, Shang thought it was odd that his own mother, Li Yue wasn't interested in him at all, but he was too young to be able to question such things.
When Shang was five, his father moved her from his large family home into a smaller house outside Chang'an. He gave Mei Lan the sole responsibility of taking care of little Shang.
For the longest time, Shang had thought the head servant had been demoted, that she'd been stuck with him as a punishment for some unforgivable blunder. Perhaps she had forgotten to polish his father's sword or served his tea cold or something along those lines.
For the first year they were together, despite the familiarity, Shang hardly talked to Mei Lan. Sometimes, when she dressed him for school or for formal dinner, their eyes would collide briefly before Shang averted his gaze. She had never forced him to open up to her, the servant would keep on talking to him even if Shang never answered or commented on whatever she said.
Shang's insecurity wasn't unreasonable. During his short five years living under the same roof together with the Li clan, all of his cousins, his uncles and aunties were always staring at him with condemnatory, cold and vicious eyes and, to Shang's chagrin, Li Yue did nothing to advocate him either. They treated him as if he were the black sheep of the family as if his presence was…. unwanted. Shang was relieved that his father had decided to leave that despicable place, to live on their own.
One day, when Mei Lan was dressing him for school, their eyes briefly met in the tall mirror. Normally Shang would be the first to tear his eyes away, but Mei Lan said something that impeded his intention.
"Xiao Shang," she said, smiling tenderly at his reflection in the mirror, "You reminded me of your father when he was your age."
At that moment Shang froze on his toes, watching a radiant smile break on her face. It was a smile filled with unmistakable affection, so unlike many of the "smiles" that had coloured all five years of his short life.
"You know what, Dear. Eyes are the window to one's soul, where people can see your mind and intent," she said with a raspy voice, her fingers tracing the distinctive feature of his sharp jawline, "You have that discipline and loyalty from your father and a benevolent heart like…. your mother. I can see that in you."
From the way the old woman structured her sentence, Shang suspected Mei Lan didn't speak of Li Yue when she mentioned his mother.
It was hard not to dig deeper once Shang had bitten the little truth out of his unknown past. Mei Lan was one of the few people who knew that General Li had an affair outside of his marriage with his wife's own sister.
"It was hardly his fault," Shang recalled Mei Lan espoused."Your father already expressed his desire to marry your mother since their romance first bloomed. But I guess... her family had another plan. Maybe she went off to be married to a richer man."
Since then, Shang frequently engaged with Li Yue in small talk, which would end after Shang asked her to tell him a little more about his mother. It was not long before Shang deduced that he was an unwanted child born as a result of his father's love affair with a woman he couldn't ever marry. It all made sense―it gave the Li family's alienation and disgust towards him a context.
"You were one very placid baby when your father brought you home to show me," she said back then, brimming with pride that Shang found rather strange.
"There was a big dispute and disagreement. The Li patriach refused to take you in until your father was legally married to someone ―public image was very important to them. So, in order to please the conflicting parties and conceal the scandalous affair―Yue, your mother's twin sister, was then given to your father to wife."
To be frank, even Shang couldn't imagine that his stern, disciplined father had fallen in love with a girl that looked like feminine nonsense and seemed to be as delicate as a vintage heirloom. But Mei Lan insisted that love was blind, no one could control what kind of woman suited the desire of one's heart. "Love is a bright stain on vision, blotting out reasons. Don't you see how a grave and serious man like your father could be so gentle and affectionate towards you? It's because he loves you. We are shaped and fashioned by who we love… when you grow up you will understand this."
All throughout the narration, Mei Lan was taking extra precautions never to mention Shang's mother's name. She was scrupulous to give her depiction so Shang could know enough to know her and feel the connection, but would not go into the details that could provoke Shang's hatred towards the rest of his family for their ill-treatment.
It was probably for the best that Xia, Shang's biological mother, died not long after giving birth to Shang. Otherwise, Mei Lan could imagine that the young man would pursue the truth and tear his family apart to quench his curiosity about the woman he shared his blood with.
"But don't you be afraid," Mei Lan said again, watching sadness rising in his innocent eyes when he learned of his mother's unhappy ending. "She is in a better place now. And you, young man, your story might not have a happy beginning, but that doesn't make you who you are. You are who you choose to be."
After that unplanned encounter with his childhood secret, Shang was determined to prove himself harder than ever. Mei Lan was always there, although always in the background, but she was always present, reminding Shang to stand up straight, carry himself confidently, speak up for himself, and maintain his manner in front of his family and friends.
Years rolled by. Inheriting his father's strength and his mother's poise had made Shang an excellent candidate for the Imperial Army. Before long, at the tender age of twenty-three, he was made a Captain, reporting directly to his father as the General. But of course, whatever position Li Shang had earned, inside the gates of his home, he was still the same little boy to Mei Lan.
It was the first morning since Shang and his father returned back from their one-month post in Chang'an. A faint knock on the door woke the man. Shang opened his eyes to find his wife was no longer in bed. The scent of something delectable greeted his nostrils, he suspected Mulan was already in the kitchen with his mother preparing breakfast.
Shang hastily dressed in his bedroom robe."Please, do come in."
It was Mei Lan, the old woman's deceptively strong but skinny hands carrying a tower of fresh clothes that was almost as tall as she was.
Without any preamble, Mei Lan walked in, glancing at the young captain in front of the mirror as he tried to make himself look a little more presentable. "Good morning Young Master Shang. Have a good rest I see," she said cordially. "I saw your new wife. I heard she is a very clever and capable woman. I mean... she climbed the pole trying to fix the washing line for me. Impressive isn't it?"
He merely shrugged.
"...and she has a good sense of humour too!" she cackled. "I bet with her in your life, your world would be all rainbow and sunshine! Oh...oh... and I saw she has a wooden sword. Is she a warrior or something?" she added, bombarding him with random remarks.
Shang shook his head and chuckled. He knew, his former nursemaid had a morbid snooping inclination that quite possibly had been ingrained in her blood. "No, she isn't," he said tentatively, wondering whether or not telling the truth would spark another wave of juicy gossip."It's just… she ―"
"Ah, it shouldn't matter actually." Mei Lan interrupted him uncaringly. The old lady looked over her shoulder before whispering loudly to him. "But I see that she pleased you rather well in bed, just see how late you wake up this morning!" she leered with a mischievous grin that looked completely out of place on her wrinkly face.
Shang's face turned a few shades deeper. It was no secret that Mei Lan's audacity in teasing him was almost a daily occurrence―he wondered if he would ever get used to it. "It's... it's not like that..."
"Oh? Is it some kind of role-play or something?"
"What? No!" Not knowing how to retaliate, Shang only could only groan into his palms.
The old lady laughed and slapped the young man's shoulder like an old friend."Look how bashful you are now! Oh, gods! Shang, never in my life would I expect to see you so embarrassed over a simple comment. Especially a comment about girls! Get over it young man, she is your wife!"
"She is... well, how do I put it? She is quite a strong-headed girl, very opinionated." Shang finally found his voice, causing the old woman to pause in her giggling fit. "I heard that she failed the matchmaking test. But yes, apart from that, I think Mama Yue trained her well. Although with strict supervision, she managed to cook me my favourite meal last night before we.. ―" Thankfully he managed to stop himself from revealing too much detail about his personal life.
"Before what?" Mei Lan leaned closer, making sure she didn't miss a single word, and Shang just wanted to sink into the wall and die than continue this conversation.
"Nothing!" The young captain blushed, trying to stave off his nursemaid's grilling questions that cornered his faltering resistance. He glanced at the old lady who grinned smugly like a mad woman.
"Xiao Shang, you are so proper. It's adorable!"
"Thank you," Shang scoffed, wanting the floorboard to swallow him whole. "Please don't tell anyone..."
"You mean about the role-play? Oh, I swore by my missing golden teeth I wouldn't!" And then broke into a giggling fit.
"That's very assuring," Shang gave her a long-suffering look. "But no, if you think I love her, no... I don't. Marriage is just... a duty to me."
Mei Lan turned silent. She squatted on his bed, sitting next to him.
"Shang, you are a man with a tender heart," she patted Shang's hand affectionately. "It's just….you have had the slight misfortune of being surrounded by the wrong circumstances, and they crushed that kindness and gentleness out of you. A man doesn't live off rice and sex alone… you need a companion. You need... someone, is that a brother, a friend or a wife."
Shang tugged the hilt of his sword, he disliked anyone lecturing him about emotionally sensitive matters, but at least he knew Mei Lan meant well.
"The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved," Mei Lan stood up and walked towards the door,"...and that girl tries to love you, Shang. I hope someday you will learn to requite her gesture."
With that, she exited the room, leaving Shang alone with his thoughts.
Mulan struggled the whole day not to think or mention anything about their disagreement the day before. But the thought of her father's frail figure marching to war kept flashing in her mind. This morning alone, she had managed to pour Shang's tea into his bowl instead of his cup, spilt his porridge and offered him her slippers instead of his.
She knew Shang had noticed her negligence and carelessness but had decided to let it slide. Mulan was quite certain her husband knew exactly what had distracted her, but perhaps he wasn't keen to confront her and repeat the harsh conversation they had last night.
That night, even after spending hours cooking, dusting, cleaning and fulfilling her wifely duty in bed, Mulan still couldn't fall asleep. Next to her, Shang had long ago gone into slumber, snoring lightly with one of his heavy arms holding her waist. Carefully detaching herself from the warmth of her bed and her husband's clutch, she slipped away and headed to the family reading room.
With the purpose to bore herself to sleep, Mulan searched General Li's office and managed to fish out the thickest, most uninviting-looking scrolls that were coated in thick layers of dust. Grappling two thick scrolls with her arms, she threw herself into a comfortable corner of the room, reading to fall asleep.
But instead of finding the content dull and uninteresting, Mulan was deeply captivated by their content. It was General Li's war handbook titled Thirty-Six Stratagems, which meticulously depicted China's battle strategies and Master Sun's Art of War, written by a war theorist that expounded on the culmination of the epic feud between the Wu and the Chu dynasties.
She must have spent hours reading, drifting in and out of consciousness until someone called her.
"Mulan?"
The familiarity of the voice resonated within her mind and snapped it into full alert. Mulan vaguely remembered what had happened, but she found herself outside the Fa's residence, falling asleep under the blossoming plum tree. Her eyes quickly identified the source of the voice, none other than her mother, standing by the moon gate.
"Mama… why are you here?" Mulan said, completely bewildered. She wasn't even sure why she questioned her mother's presence in her own home.
An amused smile twitched her mother's lips."Oh, Mulan. Is there anything wrong with a mother wanting to have a little chat with her daughter?"
"No, not at all," Mulan muttered lowly before sobering.
"Tell me about Shang," her mother requested gently after depositing herself next to her daughter.
Mulan's mind flew off on a tangent. "Shang?" she said with a strained, subdued voice. All she recalled were a lot of unhappy thoughts. "Ugh, what… ―what do you want to know about him?" Mulan gulped as her voice cracked a little. Her mind frantically tried to form the right sentence to express her thoughts on her strict, tyrannical husband and phrase them as diplomatically as possible.
"I just want to know how much you have learned about your husband, Mulan."
Mulan sighed. There was no point in hiding it when, clearly, her mother could read her like a book. "He is cold and distant, Mama. I feel… I feel that he has no interest in knowing me. You are lucky to have Baba."
Fa Li laughed softly, gathering the perturbed child into her arms. Her fingers fondled her daughter's hair, running her digits between the strands. "Mulan, you think your father was gentle and caring from the start?"
Mulan turned her head to meet her mother's eyes. "Was he...?"
Her mother shook her head."Your father was impassive, arrogant and a very serious man when I first met him."
"Really?" Mulan ventured, completely unconvinced. "I would never have guessed!"
"He was. Well, put it this way, he was a soldier Mulan. Discipline, hard work, and perseverance were in his blood. For the first year of our marriage, I did not dare speak to him. Let alone defy his orders."
"And then, what did you do?"
"Well… I wanted to make our marriage work. So, I learned and strived to please him. I did the things around the house for him willingly, I cooked his favourite food cheerfully, and I… ―"
"And here goes the bed business." Mulan rolled her eyes.
"Mulan…. ―!" Fa Li gave her a knowing look.
"Sorry sorry… I am just teasing, Mama."
"It wasn't until years later that I knew your father loved me as much as I did him. Perhaps more," her mother continued, her face radiated with a brightness that could have lit up the entire universe.
"How did you find out?"
"I heard from his captain back then that he shed tears every time he received a letter from me. He also refused to take another wife despite me not giving him a son. He was faithful to me even though years we waited until Fa Ping was born," Fa Li said with a smile that seemed permanently tattooed on her lips.
"That's awfully sweet. I think you've changed him," Mulan replied in a slightly disappointed tone. She knew how proud and obstinate her husband was; it was going to take her an entire lifetime to convince him of anything.
Her mother shook her head. "No. Mulan. Your father didn't change. He just grew, turning into the man his family needed him to be," Fa Li consoled her. "In due time, Shang will be just the same. Have faith. Have courage. Be patient in showing your affection and dedication. It'll bring honour to you and your family someday."
Fa Li was a long-suffering and caring woman, and Mulan knew she would never be like her mother. She was a perfect bride, a dream wife, in contrast, Mulan was everything her mother wasn't. What would people say if they knew Shang had a wife who could use a sword better than she could cook? A wife who questioned, challenged and antagonized her husband's every decision?
"I'm afraid, I don't have such courage. I am not you, Mama. You are obedient and submissive… a perfect portrayal of an exemplary wife," Mulan replied in a suppressed voice.
Fa Li smiled. She had predicted that Mulan's unyielding character would often cause friction between her daughter and her equally controlling son-in-law.
"Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen. You must learn to love him unconditionally."
"Unconditionally?" Mulan echoed, meeting her mother's eyes.
"Yes, it means you care about his happiness more than your own, no matter how much pain it may bring you," Fa Li imparted her wisdom, "And when you are suffering, remember: the flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all."
"I will try, Mama."
"That's my brave girl," an unrestrained brilliance blossomed across Fa Li's face, "But I hope you'll still visit us from time to time despite your role as a wife. You know your Father misses you terribly."
"Ah, yes. Of course, I will. There can be many prospective grooms, but there will be only one father."
They both laughed. Fa Li began to hum a song from Mulan's childhood, while gently stroking her daughter's hand. Mulan closed her eyes, indulging in the rare moment of peace and tranquillity.
Suddenly a sharp knock was heard.
Mulan's eyes jolted open. She found herself on her bed, clutching the corner of the blanket to cover her clumsily worn robe, while Shang's arm lazily draped over her waist. The scrolls she read last night still sprawling uncaringly on the floor. She must have been sleepwalking or some sort.
Smiling just a fraction to herself through the confusing events of the fading dreamscape, Mulan rubbed her thumb against the jade comb by the bedside table, a parting gift from her mother. The room was still dark, illuminated only by the fading light of the solitary candlestick as the night wore on, deep and quiet.
She turned around and placed herself carefully without waking Shang. There was a brief lapse in time as she watched his peaceful features as he slept, staring at him indulgently. With his raven hair spread on his pillow, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted in sleep, he was irresistibly charming. Mulan felt an unwanted fervour creep into her heart, as she fought the urge to push a stray hair back from his handsome face.
Another knock snapped her reverie.
Registering a sudden disturbance, her husband began to stir. As soon as his eyes opened, the stern mask he always wore fell into place and a steely stare greeted her. Shang nonchalantly got up from the bed just with a terse "Morning," call to her.
Downstairs, an unusual noise of debate could be heard. Something was amiss. The sun hadn't even risen yet. Mulan jumped from her bed, rushing to get dressed. Unfortunately for Mulan, it took slightly longer for her to look presentable, while Shang just magically slipped into his robes and rushed outside before another calling knock was heard.
Running her fingers through her hair frantically, Mulan tried to decode the vague, grim conversation downstairs. She heard her father and her mother's name mentioned a couple of times with syllables wrapped tightly around alarming utterances. After she was done washing her face and had applied a thin layer of makeup, she went down. In the spacious, dark living room, her eyes could easily identify the silhouette of Shang, General Li, and Li Yue, conversing with two men she was very familiar with. He was Chun Yi, the Fa's neighbour, with Chun Jing, his son.
It was an unsociable hour of the morning, the mist still hanging low and the sun's golden rays barely touching the virgin sky. But, just by reading everyone's bleak and tense expressions, Mulan knew something had gone terribly wrong.
"Ah, here she is," even General Li seemed to struggle to retain his usual calm, collected composure, "Mulan, these men have some news for you," he stepped back to give Chun Yi the audience's attention.
The man stepped forward slightly. Although no words fell from his lips, from his blanched expression; with his mouth curved down at the corners; and the way he seemed to swallow a sizeable knot in his throat, Mulan knew this couldn't be good news.
"Mulan," Chun Yi began, keenly aware of Mulan's apprehension.
"Your mother is dying…"