It took Fa Zhou a good hour before he was finally ready to face the world outside the room, breaking the most heart-wrenching news to the rest of his family. As soon as he stepped out of his quarters, his mother's empathic gaze greeted him.
"Mother…I just wanted to let you know that.. ―"
Despite having rehearsed the line a few times, the words dissolved into thin air, crumbling together with his composure.
Grandma Fa saw the pain clinging all over her son's features, the same expression of anguish that she herself was very familiar with, that she hadn't felt in years. She had lost someone she held dear before, she had tasted her own tears, buried her life under her own grief.
"Zhou… I'm sorry," she said, offering her condolences. "It will get easier with time."
"I know, but how can I… ―" The words faded. Everything felt so distant and unreal as if it were all an illusion―a nightmare. How could his wife leave him at the tender age of forty-one? Their daughter was just married, their son was barely a teenager, and speaking of grandchildren―she hadn't even had a chance to dream about one.
An unspoken exchange of emotion passed between them. But Fa Zhou's stupor was only broken when he felt Grandma Fa brushing away the tears that streamed from his eyes. "Here...here," and she gathered him in her arms. "You just have to be patient, Son."
"I don't know how long could I...?" He found himself unable to even think about a future without her.
"Zhou, if you love someone more than anything, then time only matters to the mind, not to the heart," she said, clasping his hand affectionately and taking a good look at him. "I know you are grieving. We all are. And I know our life will never be the same without Fa Li. But you must understand, grief can be a burden and but it can also be an anchor. You get used to the weight and how it holds you in place. Your grief is the price of love. And you are one of the few ones who were lucky enough to find it."
Two weeks passed after Fa Li's funeral. The normality in the Fa's house had returned to some extent, despite the obvious lack of presence from the lady of the house.
After attending the funeral, which was conducted as a private family affair, Shang excused himself to immediately join his father on the frontline. Prior to his departure, Shang had generously given his consent for Mulan to stay in the Fa's house until he returned from his duty―a proposition that Fa Zhou (and Mulan) were silently grateful for.
However, even as Mulan temporarily returned to her old life, her father's presence on the battlefield was stated as necessary and crucial by the Emperor, much to her horror. She was quite certain her late mother's opposition to her father's physical inadequacy to join the war had been the source of their raw disagreement prior to her death. But, as a daughter, Mulan couldn't defy her father's wishes, as it was deemed disrespectful for her to do so.
The discussion surrounding Fa Zhou's imminent departure was done in secret, only discussed between Mulan and himself. Even Grandma Fa didn't seem to be aware that her own son had been called to join the war once again. Her Father insisted; no, demanded; that his mother should not be informed until he had already left, fearing the old woman would try to stop him or drive herself to an early grave in her stress and worry―as had seemed to happen with his wife.
Mulan felt her heart become strangled in the dilemma; imagining her father marching off to sacrifice himself, leaving only a short note to her grandmother and her brother. But knowing the chivalrous soldier that her father was, Mulan knew there was nothing to stop him―nothing but death itself.
Through the moon gate, Mulan found her father sitting under the plum tree. His eyes stared into the sky, his gaze was hollow, watching the constellations adorn the night sky with their twinkling light. It had only been two weeks since his wife's death, but a soldier should never worry about his own personal agenda, his country and its citizens always have to come first.
Fa Zhou unsheathed the sword and began polishing it gently. Even from a distance, Mulan could see her father's fingers tremble as he traced the blade of his mighty battle companion.
"Old partner, it has been a while… I am sure you miss me," Mulan heard her father speaking softly to his sword. His words wrapped with a strange combination of pride and sorrow. "It's time to show those Huns the Chinese nobility and strength!" He ended his sentence with a feigned, mirthful chuckle.
Mulan heard him grunt as his worn hands clutched the hilt, struggling to find the strength to carry the weight of its heavy metal edge. Mulan knew her mother was right to be worried, her father was walking to his grave if he went to join the war.
"Baba..." Mulan approached him carefully, carrying a hot pot of tea and his daily medicine."Your drink is ready."
"Thank you, Mulan," he said offhandedly, his eyes still engrossed in scrutinizing the blade in his hands, watching the reflection of the moon glinting on its glossy surface. Fa Zhou took a quick swig from his cup before drinking his medicine.
"I have some money hidden under the bed, it should be enough for Ping's schooling until he turns eighteen, and a little extra for you and your Grandma." Fa Zhou placed his cup next to him before continuing. "At least you've found yourself a husband, Mulan. I have one less thing to worry about. Shang is a great warrior, he will return to you from the battle," he went on as he put his sword away. The metal clanked against its scabbard.
"Do not practice martial arts anymore," Fa Zhou appealed, "You are a wife now, and perhaps…. one day, a mother."
A mother? She couldn't even be a good wife, let alone a mother.
"Someday…." Fa Zhou drawled with a long pensive breath. "If you find a new star in the sky. That will be me. Your mother was the star of my life, my helpmeet and the place where my troubled soul found refuge. I still remember those restless nights during the war, her letters kept my spirit going and encouraged me to stay positive despite the atrocities that were happening around me."
He cast his eyes towards the sky once more. "Perhaps… this is the way the gods want us to be together," a gentle smile graced his lips when he saw a twinkling speck gleaming right above him. "She must be lonely up there..."
"But, Baba… ―"
Mulan's antagonistic words died on her lips when Fa Zhou turned around and looked her in the eyes.
"Mulan, you know it is every man's pride to die on the battlefield. I am telling you all of this because you are the strongest in our family, and I know I can rely on you."
"It―it can't be… ―" Mulan asserted, but her voice sounded so small. I can't lose you. Her heart screamed in despair. Not after Mama left us. Fa Ping would be an orphan and Grandma Fa would be… ―
Fa Zhou patted his daughter's hand gently. "Remember that I love you, Mulan," he said. But, what was meant to console her spirit, instead broke Mulan's heart into pieces."But this must be done regardless of the love we bear. Sacrifice is a seal of love. A lot of people can easily say 'I love you,' but very few have the chance to prove it's true." He let out an aggrieved sigh.
"Nothing lasts forever, my precious daughter."
They spent the night outside, leafing through the memories of her childhood. The tranquil sound of the brook and the calming serenade of the crickets contradicted Mulan's sombre mood. She helplessly sank into her seat, placing her head on her father's lap.
They stayed like that for a long while. Fa Zhou ran his fingers through her hair, stroking her head affectionately, while Mulan tried her best not to weep.
Mulan couldn't sleep that night. A lot was going on in her mind, tugging her heartstrings and disturbing her conscience. How could she let her old, handicapped father march into war? How could she let her brother become an orphan?
No. Mulan thought resolutely. She couldn't.
But what could she do? She was only a daughter. A wife. A woman. A position of very little value in the predominantly male world.
Mulan sighed resignedly as she stood up, tidying her Father's desk that was filled with clutter and all sort of condolences letters that had been left unopened. She thought of tiring herself to the point of sleep.
Inadvertently, a stack of scrolls fell out of a cabinet―Mulan rebuked herself for not opening the cabinet door with more care. As she arranged the scrolls back into their place, her eyes fell onto a tatty-looking, green scroll, with intricate gold embellishments around its edge. Despite looking rather frayed and yellowed with age, Mulan could see that once upon a time, it must have been an important, treasured possession of her Father's. Instantly, she stretched her hand out to satisfy her piqued curiosity.
Employing extra cautiousness, Mulan carefully pulled out the scroll.
It was her father's memoir. The first couple of lines were filled with his familiar strokes, engraved carefully, and thoughtfully―pouring out his deepest sentiments and articulating his life chronicles as he began his journey as a young soldier.
Mulan dared not proceed further, knowing it would displease her Father and disrespect him to meddle with the most private of mementoes that he desired to keep to himself. But Mulan couldn't help but notice the front page of the scroll, written: the greatest pleasure in life is to do, accomplish, and win what people say you can not do.
Suddenly a spark of a brilliant idea surfaced in her mind.
Fa-Li Mulan may be a woman, a daughter and a wife, but that didn't mean that she would let people dictate what she could or couldn't do. Society may never value her opinion, nor consider her able to bear arms to defend her people and to fight for the freedom of her country. But people would allow, accept and approve of her doing all this if she were a man!
That's it! Her heart gave a traitorous leap at the thought―she would disguise herself as a man, going in her Father's place.
Mulan smiled at the absurdity of the idea, but it wasn't all impossible. Even as a woman, she had the necessary skills, perhaps even better than some men in her village. In disparity with her retired Father, Mulan was still young and agile. If she were given the time, the place and the opportunity to learn and practice, Mulan was sure she would excel.
Marshalling all her courage and determination, she came up with a systematic plan: first to forge all the necessary documents and second to slip away in the night.
Unnoticed.