Mulan didn't know how long she had been training that day. What she knew was the sky was dark, and the stars already dance across the horizon, creating the best painting of cosmic imagination. Truth be told, she enjoyed Shao Wei's training so far especially in comparison to Shang's hardcore regime. Shao Wei took time in explaining the technicality and philosophy behind every technique and turned all their training into fun competitions (he certainly could appreciate Ping's competitive spirit). It was almost like playing a game with real weapons than it was training.
"May I borrow Ping for a while?" Shang emerged from the edge of the clearing.
"Thank you for today, Your Honor," Mulan bowed politely as Shao Wei dismissed her for the day.
"Don't mention it, Ping. It's my pleasure. We have a great time together," Shao replied and flashed an unnecessary coy smile that had overshot the threshold of simpering. She returned the smile with a far more neutral one.
"Don't forget to return him back to me," he said tauntingly to Shang. She knew it was a very bad joke, but anyone who knew Shao Wei would have dismissed any seriousness in the notion.
"Letter for you," Shang pronounced rather curtly when Shao Wei had left the vicinity. She unrolled the letter, mentally noting that Shang's sharp gaze was still trained on her.
"Ping…" He crossed his arms and added, rather unnecessarily: "Please be careful with the Prince. You don't know what he is like."
And you don't either; she chastised him inwardly, and her combative spirit was suddenly awakened. Thankfully a much more polite "I know what I'm up against, Captain," was what came out of her mouth.
"If I were you, I'll take the advice, pack up and go home," he summed up.
Did you really? Said the voice in her head. If Shao Wei was hubristic, she could say Shang was a similar annoying kind with a slightly more aggressive variation.
"It's for your own good," he added bluntly.
That fleeting moment she really wanted to jab him on that bare, muscular chest of his and yelled at him but she couldn't summon the nerve―not because she feared his punishment nor physical retribution, but because she recited her father had taught her to respect the man in charge. In this playing field, Shang was her captain and her commander first and foremost.
Swallowing her irritation in a loud huff, Mulan unceremoniously folded the letter back and stashed it into her pocket. "I appreciate your concern, Captain. But I can take care of myself. And also, thank you for the letter. Good night."
"What's his problem?" Mulan grumbled as she left.
"Whose problem?" Mushu piped from behind her collar before jumping to the table in front of her to brew a pot of tea.
"Him," Mulan darted her eyes toward the direction where Shang's prominent shadow was still out there, standing, perhaps equally vexed by the exchange."He was so snappy… so broody…so...so bossy."
"Well, he is technically your boss," Mushu offered unhelpfully.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mushu," she scoffed. "Can't believe he has the nerve to bring it up! Is it once not enough? Even as a man I am not free from him!"
"Do you want to be free of him?" Mushu retorted back.
"What do you think?" she deadpanned.
"Careful what you wished for, Girl," Mushu said, clicking his tongue. After observing Mulan's so-called 'misadventure' in love with her parent's chosen husband, Mushu knew there were sparks between the two―more than any of them willing to admit.
"Is it too much to ask? Is it wrong for a woman to want to do what she thinks is right?"
"I'm listening," Mushu said, propping his head with his claws. He voiced his objection when she grabbed the gin bottle that was lying around but immediately changed his mind. Everyone knew she didn't normally drink to excess, but after all, if her male counterparts were any indication, the army was supposed to be the time to expand one's repertoire.
"Only a sip!" Mushu warned, and she didn't protest.
A sip it was, but it had a nice effect of making her lightheaded and loosening her tongue. Before long, she had launched into a cracking monologue about how Shang's total ineptitude of empathy and how he had become one constant obstacle she couldn't escape from.
"Okaaay," Mushu slurred when Mulan took a breath to pause. "Did it occur to you that he has his reason to send you away? A reason that you don't know, maybe?"
"No," Mulan snapped almost immediately. Even if he did try to explain, she didn't care. She couldn't believe him, not after what he did.
"When he dismissed me, I asked…. no, I pleaded with him. Mushu...I begged! I begged earnestly for him to let me stay. I told him why I was here. I tried to reason with him but he…"
"...won't listen?" Mushu finished for her, pouring her a cup of tea.
"Isn't that what men want? You said men want to be needed! To feel superior! To feel they are….gods!"
"Calm down," he said, pushing the ceramic cup toward her. The gin bottle had since disappeared, and Mulan accepted the tea nonchalantly.
"Just sit here… inhale…. exhale….and count to ten, and repeat."
Surprisingly without much indignant protestation, Mulan relented. She sat down and did exactly as she was told.
"I know you are upset," Mushu said soothingly. "But you know Shang isn't the most persuasive of all men, and… the method of his speaking isn't that compelling. Remember this?" he raised his own cup. "Shang did try to make you tea," he added softly. "Although his tea was worse than dishwater, but Isn't that speak of something?"
Mulan fell quiet. She remembered during the mourning period of her mother's untimely death Shang was there, taking care of her, offering to do menial kitchen work that he, in the end, caused more chaos than actually helped (she struggled to stomach the tea he made). There were never sweet words, no flower bouquet, no kiss on her forehead, and no romantic surprise dinner. Shang wasn't a sentimental, touchy-feely kind of husband, he never was.
"Or think this another way. Wouldn't it be easier for him to let you stay? To let you… march to the battlefield without having to argue and confront you? To let you...die?" Mushu looked at Mulan's guarded expression for a moment before continuing. "Shang may not be a flower-type guy or hugging-type guy… but that doesn't mean he is incapable of love. In fact, he cared deeply about everyone in his family…..and that's including you!"
She may not agree with Mushu's assessment one hundred percent. But for one thing, he was right. Shang may be lacking romantic bone in his body, but it didn't warrant him as a dreadful man.
"So the same question remained," Mushu said, breaking the silence.
"What question?"
"On whether you really begrudge him for sending you home? Or… for being Mr-Know-It-All? Or...is there something else?" he replied glibly. When she raised one of her brows, he added carefully, "Like perhaps….you wanted to stay, not just for your father… "
"What are you trying to say?" Mulan stared at him, scandalized.
"I know you love your father. That, I don't doubt it one bit. But isn't there something you want from everyone here? Especially from….Shang?"
And there was a sudden shift of vibe. Her tone became less defensive and more sounding like defeated.
"I…. I don't know."
Numerous candles illuminated the massive chamber, reflecting the intricately spread woven tapestry among the wild animal skin. Blades, arrows, and headpieces of fallen heroes encompassed the surrounding wall, disclosing the proud history of the greatness of the Huns Warrior. The Hun's fortification may be nothing to rival the architectural feat and the flashiness of their Chinese counterpart. But it wasn't because they couldn't afford to, more because they chose not to. They had been a nomadic hunter for generations, roaming freely from places, never tied down to land, property, or possession. They were accountable to no one, bowed to no one, and lived as they pleased.
In the center of the colossal tent, surrounded by warriors and guards, was the throne of the Great Khan.
"My Khan." Hayabusa fell on his knees when he arrived a respectable distance from where Khan Kaidu was seated. Their eyes respectfully trained on the floor under his feet.
"Arise," the Khan declared. "So, what have you brought me this early in the morning?"
"A good news, My Khan," he replied, keeping his tone reverent. "We managed to obtain our enemy's political secret."
The Khan's faint nod was enough to warrant that he wouldn't want any audience to listen to this.
"I found the location of one of the Chinese training encampments," Hayabusa continued when the Khan expressly indicated that he was permitted to speak in front of a selected few. In the room were Batu, the chief of spies, Timur, his fellow strategist, and Sukh, Shan-Yu's half-brother.
The Khan tilted his head, noticing the 'and' was coming.
"The heir of Wei is one of the residents there," Hayabusa continued, jerking his head knowingly towards Atilla. The young man proceeded with a solemn salute before ceremoniously presenting a hand-drawn map for the Khan to scrutinize.
"You mean Prince Shao Wei―the Emperor's nephew?" the Khan inquired, but his eyes had not left the scroll in his hands. "He is there?"
Hayabusa nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."
"A peasant training camp?" Khan Kaidu read the inscription in disbelief. "Are you sure about this, Hayabusa?" And the Great Khan was not the only skeptics in the room. The general murmur erupted among his compatriots.
"Positive. I let the witness testify," he replied deftly. He had thought beforehand that it was much more conceivable if someone else testified the story of his achievement than hearing it come out of his lips. "Atilla?"
The young warrior bowed again reverently before speaking.
There was once a saying: The value of credibility often correlated closely with details one's heard. So, Hayabusa remained silent when Atilla launched into meticulous detail about their accidental meeting with a pixie-cut soldier and how his mentor had managed to cleverly bait him into divulging this secret without realizing that he did.
"Last week, I was spying on the Chinese encampment to confirm the accuracy of this intel. And it is as much accurate and true," Atilla summarised in closing, glancing knowingly towards Hayabusa as though giving him a silent credit for his guidance.
"So you saw the Prince of Wei there?" Timur inquired, narrowing his eyes. From his periphery, Hayabusa could see Atilla's knuckles went white as stone, even when his expression betrayed nothing.
"You know that Atilla has a good set of working eyes," Hayabusa decided to intervene, glancing over his shoulder towards Batu. "Otherwise... a respectable warrior like Batu wouldn't have recommended him to me."
Batu scoffed silently, and Timur breathed loudly through his nostril, knowing he had played him.
"But that's impossible!" Timur impugned. "Why would a royalty like him join a low-rank training camp?"
Hayabusa chose to ignore the mocking in his tone. Even when Shan-Yu was the Khan's favorite warrior, in terms of direct rivalry, it was Timur who often became his torn in the flesh. The man was young but sharp as a razor and quick wit as lightning. He was undoubtedly clever, yet no less cunning and deceitful when it came to discrediting him.
"And what benefit will I gain by telling a lie?" Atilla said, his repressively calm voice carrying a dangerous undercurrent with it.
And if, in the end, the Huns gained the upper hand from the unintentional act of espionage by a drunken soldier, this would be history and the highlight in Hayabusa's storied career. Unlike Shan-Yu (which he thought somewhat impetuous in his doing), he firmly believed that blood and sword weren't the answer for everything. But the Hun warriors were never famous for their perseverance in waiting and much more interested in reacting impulsively according to the situation. Thus his wait-and-see methodology often went unappreciated.
"Maybe because the Chinese knew we weren't going to suspect that he is there," Batu conjectured.
"That's a possibility," Khan Kaidu contemplated, although knowing the Wei's Princes, no one would be able to think what kind of bribe Wei Zhang had employed to persuade his selfish, self-absorbed, party-animal boy to adopt a life disguised as a simple, lowly citizen. If safety were the issue, he would prefer to be restrained inside a golden cage in the comfort of his home than to wander freely under the stars.
Hayabusa, on the other hand, had his own theories about this, but he won't just breathe out his thought aloud without thinking of a logical explanation.
"It's a shame we can't just go and ask," Timur whispered jokingly to which Sukh sharply chastened him.
Once upon a time, the Wei and the Huns used to be on a good terms, assimilating and coexisting side by side. The tension began about two decades ago as the new Emperor―with a novel ideology of uniting China―raised to the throne. He had conquered many minor kingdoms and embraced larger ones with the promise of a better future together.
It was known to the Huns that Emperor Xiongnu had always been keen for both the Chinese and the Huns kingdom to unite under his rule―the condition which subtly implied the colonization and invasion and perhaps slavery to them. Since his coronation about four decades ago, the Chinese Emperor had been plain in his intention and applied physical confrontation to those willing to challenge or question his intent. In contrast, Prince Wei Zhang, his brother, was inclined to use a more peaceful solution and proposed both kingdoms embrace each other under the ties of political marriages. To support his cause, he had bestowed his own daughter from his favorite concubine for the Great Khan to wed―an idea that was fiercely opposed by a handful of his direct family, including his only son, Prince Shao Wei.
While they were intrigued as to what the other end of the bargain was for Prince Shao Wei, it was Sukh who had read between the lines. "Are you suggesting that we assassinate the Prince?"
"We can't drag this war forever," Hayabusa reminded him. "The Emperor of China had performed countless attacks against the defenseless civilians, banished our citizens from their territory, and dealt with our people disrespectfully."
"To which we retaliate with the same action," Khan Kaidu added duly.
Hayabusa had anticipated the Khan's inconspicuous resistance to his plan. Many years ago before he raised in power, Khan Kaidu and Prince Wei Zhang used to share quite an intimate friendship. Although the relationship had deteriorated when Wei Zhang accused a Hun spy of being responsible for the death of his favorite wife, the Khan had no direct, personal vendetta against him.
"That's true, My Khan. But we can't just keep on evening out the odds. In war, you can either become the winner...or die losing," he said in earnest.
Although the Khan was proven to be equally brutal in his way of reciprocating the ruthless method wielded by the Emperor of China, he still had a fraction of integrity to the value of humanity of whatever surviving friendship he had left with the Prince of Wei. Therefore, the suggestion of plotting serious malice against the Prince of Wei's only son―seemed to be violating Kaidu's book of conduct.
"My Khan, how long more we let these Chinese fool us with their empty promise?" Hayabusa went on to sell his idea. "If we wait. We only wait for them to win!"
"I rather die than live in bondage," Batu seconded.
"I'm with you," Timur chimed in a gusto.
The Great Kha paused, nodding and stroking his bushy beard as he perused the map and digested the plan. Despite his verbose approval, his hesitation was clear as day.
"My Khan, we have to think about years to come. About the future. Our kingdom's future," Hayabusa urged, sensing the Khan's mind was still tormented by this cowardly plot to sneak and murder an unsuspecting victim purely because of his birthright. If there were a time and place to kill such a man, in his mind, there had to one a fair duel between them.
"I believe Hayabusa has a point," Batu stated his opinion, glancing towards Sukh who seemed equally deep in thought. "This is a golden opportunity we can not miss!"
We've beheaded so many Chinese before. Adding one to the number won't make such a difference, would it? Hayabusa wanted to say. Eliminating Prince Shao Wei was not only sending a warning signal to their adversary but also eradicating the Chinese throne from its roots. But he knew he couldn't make such a blatant, definitive statement.
"Think about this: The Emperor and Prince Wei Zhang are already in their sixties. They won't be around for any longer," Hayabusa carefully expanded his logic. "We must act quickly before Prince Shao Wei took a wife and bore more successors."
"You've won me this time," Khan Kaidu capitulated, offhandedly handing the map back to Atilla.
Hayabusa bowed humbly even when his soul basked in a feeling of warm pride. Oftentimes, it was Shan-Yu who received all these direct praises for all his heroic deeds in slaying the Chinese, while he, as a strategic advisor who held a more passive role, was only given the credit when his plan had aided Shan-Yu in earning the victory.
"Atilla, tell Shan-Yu to prepare two thousands…―"
"That won't be necessary, My Khan," he said quickly. He couldn't let Shan-Yu claim triumph over his ingenious success. No, not this time. "Five people would suffice."
"Five hundred you mean?" Timur added, in a voice that bordered on correctional.
Again, he refused to respond to the young man's usual derogatory tone. "It's five, Your Honor," he affirmed.
"Are you sure about this, Brother? This is a mission we can't afford to lose," Sukh voiced his thought.
"Yes, just five best archers will suffice," Hayabusa confirmed before explaining that he had sent spies to monitor the patrol rota around the said encampment. "I'll take Timur beside Atilla if no one objected. Having excellent young blood will definitely increase our success rate," he added. It was priceless to watch Timur's change of expression from surprised, nonplussed to full-on affronted.
"Sound like a good plan," the Khan agreed while Timur only scoffed a displeased hiss.
"Well thought!" even Sukh marveled.
And Hayabusa couldn't help himself to preen a little when the Khan stared at him approvingly in front of a few of his fellow warriors as he marched out of the tent.
After Shao Wei offered her free private training, Mulan had done a little research on the Prince of Wei. Everyone knew he'd been an A-list celebrity before, more famous for his bad behavior than any redeeming characteristics.
Further digging on him during the writing of that first article, she'd found a mixed bag of opinions about the heir to Wei's fortune: women seemed to think he was charming but dangerous and capricious. And men were envious of him, it seemed, but no one obviously dared to admit it out loud.
Shao had been studiously flipped. He'd downplayed his obvious grief, cracked jokes, brag a lot... and made it clear that he wasn't interested in letting the reality of his private life slip. Apart from the list of these 'winning' traits, Mulan had learned that Shao was actually a nice person.
"So the gossip was true? You seriously dated two women at once?" she said when Shao told her the usual boastful story about two sisters who came close to killing each other after figuring out they had been courted by the same man unknowingly.
"That's what the headline said," he confirmed rather proudly.
Of course, Mulan didn't always trust the news broadcasted by tabloids. The number of false rumor and fake news publisher made for their own financial benefit were astonishing. And many others were glossed and embellished so much to the point of untruth.
"Is that prohibited?" he gloated. "They are just… women."
"Didn't they confront you about this?"
"No," he answered tersely. "Who dared to question the whim and wants of a prince?" he bared his teeth in a smug grin. "The peril of the blue blood."
Mulan wanted to slap that smug smirk off his face and gave him a piece of her mind, but she tried to consider the argument objectively. Serious or not, a prince like him was allowed to sleep with any woman of any age, any status, single or even widowed―if so he wished.
"No. Of course, you can sleep with anyone with breasts," she replied bitingly. As much as it chafed her, she saw that it wasn't entirely Shao's fault. Those women perhaps wouldn't mind being objectified by a prince who practically owned China.
"Thank god being an asshole isn't contagious," she tilted her head towards him and added. "Although, at second thought it may be hereditary." There was no doubt Wei's household had been famous for treating women as an object of amusement and pleasure. Nothing new there.
Unperturbed, he laughed at her blunt sarcasm.
"Listen, there are only two kinds of women. One that swoons openly, and ones that are showing indignation but deep down is madly in love with me," he winked towards her, but she failed to see the implied humor behind his words.
"You never liked any of them?" Mulan demanded. "I mean… like like. Not just like."
"I like women, but I also like baijiu, I like my comfy bed or eating spicy dumplings," he quipped easily.
"Is that how you compare your feeling towards women? To alcohol and food?"
He laughed again. It was the gesture he often used when trying to mask a more subtle display of emotion. "You are very sharp, Ping. I like you."
"Seriously," she pressed on. "You have no women in your life?" The question about Ting Ting and the Huns Princess she saw communing with him was already on the tip of her tongue.
He sighed, scrutinizing on nonexistent dirt under his well-tended fingernails. "I am trying not to be emotionally invested in infernal things."
Unbelievable, said the voice in her head somewhat disappointedly. Perhaps because in her mind's eye, the royal family his father had loyally served was far more noble, dignified and virtuous than a shallow man who was speaking to her right now.
It must be something in her expression that made him suddenly fall quiet, before answering in a more guarded tone, "If there is a woman worthy of my attention….is my late sister."
It was not a model answer she had anticipated, so Mulan was left speechless.
It was a known fact that Wei Zhang, the ruling Prince of Wei, although was only blessed with one son, had a harem full of women who gave him countless daughters. Among those, one was lucky enough to share Shao Wei's royal blood.
"I'm sorry about what happened to her and your mother," she expressed sincerely.
"She should be eighteen this year," he sighed deeply. "I've bought her a fine silk ruqun for her birthday. She would've looked beautiful in it."
Mulan squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. She had lost a family member before. She knew how bitter the loss, grief, and helplessness felt. "I'm sure she would."
"You have no idea," Shao shook his head. "A young man like you will drop dead to see how beautiful my sister is."
"I must have seen her before," Mulan recited from her memory. "I went to the Palace of Wei with my father three years ago for the Lunar Festival celebration. She was there, wasn't she?"
He seemed to consider his answer before flashing that annoying signature phony smirk. "Really?" he said. When Mulan raised one brow at him, he went on, "I'm extremely protective around her, especially around a single man. Because unlike me, my sister is very serious when it comes to love."
Mulan could only roll her eyes. "Unlike you, huh?"
He laughed as though all his sorrow a minute ago was long forgotten. "Yes, for me women are only…." He paused, seeking words. "Diversion from boredom."
"No wonder you are still single," Mulan quipped crisply.
"Ouch! That's hit a nerve," he retorted with false wariness.
"Good for you," she quipped.
"Hey! You know what? They said sarcasm is a metric for potential," he told her. "If that's true, you'll be a successful individual someday. Perhaps a captain… or a general!"
She knew it was only a satirical retaliation for her verbal jab. But she couldn't help laughing at the banality of the fantasy. On her own daydream about her future, on the rare occasion when she permitted herself the luxury, even such a setting would be impossible. Everyone knew, in a world where women are second-class citizens, the only successful ones were those sitting behind their husband's pedestals.
"But if you are interested in going on a much easier route. I still have a half dozen available stepsisters in a prime age to marry," he exposed.
"It must be quite something to live in a palace like yours," Mulan responded, imagining how Fa Ping could ever charm his way into joining the life of the court. She didn't quite expect this verbal banter to be amusing, despite how unserious it might be.
"Yeah. I mean it does come with countless servants, free massage, and sex at your door," he guffawed watching the blush spread on her ears. "But harem is not for everyone. Can you imagine a bunch of women living together fighting for a fraction of my father's affection? All in the name of love. Like hell! No one loves my father… well, except maybe Ma, who he fed.. ―"
"Wait, who is Ma?"
"His stallion. My father never goes anywhere without him; they are inseparable."
"So, you said the only person, well creature, that cared for your father truly is….his horse?" She couldn't decide between pity or disbelief.
"Ironically, yes. The rest is just playing the game to gain power and position."
This time Mulan made a face. "I bet there isn't much peace in there."
"No. Certainly not. But all women in China knew, being in a harem is the ticket to a comfortable life. Lavish life. A little discomfort of fighting over the affection of an influential man by scheming a little mischief towards each other is a small price to pay. My mother is no exception," he admitted.
"Your mother?"
"Died many years ago―As you may have heard," he said neutrally. "She used to be my father's favorite consort… for all the obvious reasons," and Shao gave her a suggestive smile.
"I bet she was beautiful."
Shao laughed deprecatingly. "You don't want to know. I heard them doing things even when the chambermaids were around, literally watching them. But hey, no need to be ashamed if you are performing above and beyond average!"
"Ugh," Mulan closed her eyes, trying to shake off the mental image. "You sound, you know… ―," she blushed and cleared her throat. "I mean...experienced."
"Ah," he let a throaty chuckle, reaching for a bottle of rice wine. "Give me some credit. I am the Prince of Wei after all."
"I didn't know that part of the legend," Mulan replied, watching him tipping the bottle and unceremoniously wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
"I bet he is experienced too," Shao pointed towards Shang's tent with his eyes. Mulan froze for a second, before convincing herself that it was just a coincidence Shao had mentioned him.
"How… how do you know that?" she said, trying to sound unaffected. Oh well, she had a firsthand account of his level of competency in that department.
"He is a soldier, Ping!" Shao chuckled, slapping her shoulder in a manly way, offering her the drink which she refused politely.
"What about being a soldier?" she couldn't conceal her confusion.
"Have no one told you? Not even your father?" When she stared at him, blank and perplexed, he laughed again. "Every soldier will have a story of their….first…―" he faked a cough and continued. "But don't worry… you are in a good hands with me, because I will make every woman in the country worship you."
Mulan choked on her own saliva at that. "I am sure that won't be necessary."
"Ok, let me tell you about my first. But promised me don't tell anyone...it's kind of not good for my reputation."
She crossed her heart, eyes wide. "Warrior vow. Ok, now spill."
"During my first year of training, a group of us was sent in aid of a village near Hubei that had been raided by bandits one winter. There were perhaps ten of us, we split ways into pairs to clear up debris, find survivors, and evacuate the injured. Then, we spotted this farmhouse with broken windows and decided to check. Long story short, my comrades went and took a couple of wounded workers to the nearest healer leaving me alone to patrol the area and make sure the situation remained neutral. Then, while they were away, I heard a writhing noise from the neighboring building, apparently there was this one lady that sprained her ankle… I went in to help her, and she was very….―eh, grateful."
"Grateful?" Mulan repeated, still not quite understanding the context.
"Well, there was no one else but her. Other her neighbors had either evacuated or taken to the healer to be given necessary medical attention, and for that fact, I knew they would be gone for days! Because the closest healer is about one day journey on horseback, let alone on foot," Shao chuckled at the memory. "I carefully dubbed myself as a soldier, not a prince, but she was still very grateful and made me dinner, and we exchanged stories. She was by no means the prettiest girl I'd seen, but quite attractive and pleasant to look at. So, when she said I could stay while waiting for my comrades to return… I couldn't say no―So there I laid on the couch in her living room, but it got very cold at night and there was only one working fireplace ―in her bedroom… so she said why don't I…―"
"Oh dear ancestor," Mulan groaned into her palm, face burning like the campfire.
"That's not the scandalous part," Shao piped with a big lopsided grin that Mulan never thought was possible. Was he insane to be proud of this? But again, he was drunk.
"Is not?" Mulan looked at him, gathering herself and bracing for the scandalous part.
"No. Because a week later, my comrade returned ― while we were drinking tea and nibbling dumplings in the living room―and one of the previously wounded guys came in, helped himself with the tea and dumpling and kissed her cheek, and said something like―sorry for leaving you a week, Darling. I missed you. And turned to me―Oh, hello soldier, this is my wife, Ching, I hope she has made you feel at home while I'm gone… and oh yes! thank you for accompanying her and attending to her sprained ankle."
"My...What?!" Mulan nearly screamed, aghast.
"Exactly!" Shao chuckled into his drink. "She was calm, collected…. and warmly threw her arm around him and said 'Oh Honey, this is Shao, he helped with my ankle, so I made him a dinner and bla bla blah blah. And this clueless guy just shook my hand and said thank you for taking care of my wife, thank you for massaging her ankle, thank you for this… for that... so I can't help but just to….keep my mouth shut and just... smile. Gratefully. Even though mentally, my jaw must've been hovering over the floor."
Mulan bit her lips to restrain her laughter. "I can't imagine what her reaction if she knew she had been banging on royalty for a week."
"Hell, I don't let that slip," he shook his head. "So, in my confused daze, I managed to mouth 'Nice to meet you sir, and thanks for the sofa madam,' and she smoothly patted my shoulder and said 'anytime soldier' and handed me my bag… even wash, fold my underwear clean and perfumed it!"
Mulan convulsed in giggles.
"Glad you find this amusing," Shao told her, pretending to be offended.
"Sorry," she gasped.
"That's when I learn the allure of a man in uniform. You can be the ugliest man possible, but in uniform, you'll suddenly transform into the hottest, most irresistible creature ever walked the earth!"
"I wonder how many bachelors she offered her sofa," Mulan thought aloud.
"I don't have a chance to ask. But the way she glance at me when her husband wasn't looking, she had made perfectly clear this had gone exactly according to plan." He shook his head again, incredulous. "...and I was just a victimized male with no choice but to play along."
"Victimized?" Mulan scoffed. "Sounds like you've learned leaps and bounds since then."
"Every man will have their first. Not that any of them in their right mind would be comfortable sharing this kind of story with another… man. Let me tell you a secret," he whispered before launching into a brief graphical monologue on women's erogenous parts.
"I think that's enough lesson for me for the night," she told him, mentally congratulating herself for the best staging a keen, appreciative facade instead of gagging. "I don't want to have wet dreams."
Shao chortled. "That bad?" and placed the almost empty bottle next to his feet.
"I think even Chef Zhang, who has hard of hearing…" she turned directing her gaze at the busy chef not more than a stone-throw away. "...was about to come and lecture you about decency," she added.
"I'd have bought him a bottle of wine," he winked cheekily and lulled his voice into Chef Zhang's throaty tone and said, "Oh, what did you say just now Prince of Wei? Porn? What porn?"
"This is the principal of power abuse and nepotism," he added faux seriously while emptying the content of the bottle into his throat. "And… the essence of politics."
Mulan felt her mouth twitch as she tried to restrain her smile, pretending to return her focus to her Kung Fu scroll.
"So, is any of the rumor about you true?... Of you being uninterested in holding the throne and more interested in partying, gambling, and such?" she asked, this time a little more seriously. There was no condemnation in her tone, only curiosity.
She didn't miss how his shoulders seemed to have tightened.
"You can't believe everything you hear," he replied, unexpectedly sounding a little harassed." If you've got to spend your whole life looking over your shoulder, wondering if the people that claim to love you really love you, or if they want your power and the conveniences of wealth, I've learned very early to wear a mask and…" he sighed. "Nevermind. Let me just surmise that this crown is more of a curse than a blessing."
"Sorry," she squeaked, feeling decidedly culpable for such a blunt question. She just came to know the extent of strain that the mantle brought. "I don't mean…"
"I know," he said "That's why among many people here I didn't try to make a connection with anyone. Because I know they won't understand. Well… maybe Captain Li will. He is one of a few who knows what it meant by positional exclusion and leadership loneliness."
Mulan nodded understandingly at that. His reasoning made perfect sense, yet, she didn't see such friendship formed yet between the two.
"I know my bed here is a bit cramped, the tent's wall is too thin, and the weather is too cold for my liking. Our compatriots were rather noisy and borderline useless in training. But to be frank, I am not looking forward to returning to my palace anytime soon," he told her. "I like it here."
Me too, she thought in her head, thinking about what kind of life she had returned to when the war was over. It was kind of bizarre for liking her sweat-scented communal sleeping tent and tolerating all sorts of men's disgusting, unhygienic routine, but she savored the aspect of freedom this new life had offered.
"What about you? What will you do when all this…" he made of circulating motion with his finger. "...is done?"
"Hmm...returned home, get married... I guess?"
"That's it?" There was no derogation of any kind, but her hackles went up anyhow.
"Any problem with that?" Her tone was harsher than she intended it to be.
His grin widened, and suddenly Mulan felt her stomach churn in the most unpleasant way. "Recognise this?" he said, pulling a familiar bag from under his stool.
"Hey! What are you doing with my bag!" she leaped to her foot to snatch the item but Shao had anticipated this and blocked her with his arm.
"Give it back!" she yelled, kicking and hitting him profusely, but Shao managed to catch even deflected all her frantic attack single-handedly. Mulan soon realized that he was far superior to her in the strength department, so she had to outthink him.
"I will return it once… Owww!" The pain that stung his arm made him drop the bag, rubbing the bite mark on his sleeve. Mulan saw the window of opportunity to grab her bag and run. But Shao's warrior reflexes had foreseen this and tugged her by her robe, and pinned her with his arms.
"Let me go! You crazy royalty!" she struggled, her chest heaving. His hand manacled her wrists, trapping them behind her back, holding her in place against his big body.
"Oh no you don't, not after biting me!" Shao said, caging her in against the tree.
Mulan pounded at his chest but he didn't budge, looming over her small frame. She narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll shout," she threatened.
"And your beloved captain will know your secret too?" She choked on air and started to cough, feeling as though a lightning bolt struck through her chest traveled to her toes. Does he know….―?
"W-what?" she faltered. She hoped it was the alcohol talking.
"Y-You think I have eyes for him?" Mulan said, fighting the blush that crept on her cheeks. She couldn't afford Shao Wei to think that Fa Ping, had a severe, accidental crush on his brother-in-law. That sounded wrong on so many levels.
Shao had to struggle to keep a stoic, impassive face as he interrogated the girl. But he would lie if he didn't admit he was enjoying this little torture and seeing Ping's half-flustered, half-terrified face.
"Do you?" he bounced her rhetoric. "Tell me, how many times have you met Captain Li Shang before joining the army."
"Twice," she said as precisely as possible. "On my sister's wedding day and my mother's funeral." Just enough detail to be credible, hopefully, forgettable but believable.
He raised one brow at her while rattling the sack and objects falling out of it: necklace, quill, parchment, panties...
He stopped there and gave her a questioning look while waving the distinctly looking feminine underwear in front of her.
"I...er… into...cross-dressing," she stuttered, still feeling obliged not to surrender her secret without a decent fight.
He rolled his eyes mockingly and gave her a 'Really?' look as he pulled a second item―her chest binding.
Mulan winced. "Oh! That's…―" Her brain racked havoc in panic search for a good excuse. "...A very serious cross-dressing." She bit her lips sheepishly. She knew it was doubtful Shao bought her pathetic pretext, but she couldn't just succumb without trying.
"Aha!" A victorious smile graced his lips when he fished out a sanitary towel out of her bag. "Just as I thought," he pronounced.
"Please!" she pleaded, even though she knew it was a futile effort.
"I thought the daughter of an infallible warrior like Fa Zhou would have a more visionary purpose in life…. Not just pleased about becoming a housewife."
The rest of his sentence was like meaningless syllables in her head. She could hear them but was unable to think of any clever retort. She cracked eventually and sighed in defeat.
"B-but... I mean….―How?" she strangled, wondering what may come next. Would Shao report her to Shang, or worse… Chi-Fu? Would they humiliate her by executing her in public for her deception?
"I have my ways," the Prince answered. He didn't seem angry. Just satisfied, and a lot soberer than he'd been earlier. "Any particular reason for playing this ruse?" he said, pulling the conscript out of her bag.
Mulan lifted her chin, refusing to feel bad about the things she needed to do to make her life work. "I am here to do the right thing for my family," she said firmly.
"Right thing for your family?" he echoed with a slight mock. "I take it you haven't consulted Captain Li, your husband. Oh, wait! I bet he doesn't even know!"
She really wished she could slap him. But of course, she couldn't because firstly, he was the Prince of Wei and it's kind of slanderous to slap royalty. Secondly, there would be endless questioning tomorrow if the mark of her palm imprinted on his cheek. Thirdly, he had a point―Shang would kill her (even figuratively) if this big-mouthed aristocrat broke his silence.
"Guys can be real assholes," she answered, flashing a pointed glare at him.
"That's a very colorful language for addressing your prince!" he said, pretending to be affronted.
"Suit yourself," she retorted curtly. "A man like you won't understand."
Which was true, generally. Her non-privileged life here in China, where she had been fated to live a subdue obedience and accepted the title as someone's property, stood in contrast to his―a life full of promise and freedom. How could she expect him to understand anything about her life?
"Ok, apology," he said, dropping all his theatrical mime. "I'm sorry if that hits a nerve. I tend to joke a lot―some sort of…―hum, a coping mechanism. Heh. I guess bad habit hard to break."
She looked up at him. There was a brief moment of fragility in his expression, and she knew he was admitting something rather personal.
Intuitively, she confided. "I am just a girl who wanted a little control over her life," and hoping he'd understand what she wouldn't let herself explain.
"That sounds more honest than I expected," he said, smiling. "But I'm genuinely impressed. You've mastered deception and espionage in a world where no one is keen to see women succeed at either. All things considered, you can be a great help to your husband."
"Yeah, the problem is he won't ever let me," Mulan deflated in her seat, and her anger subsided. "He even reprimanded me for practicing my sword skill."
Shao tilted his head, "Seriously?"
She sighed, "He just wants me to be an exemplary housewife."
"That's a shame," Shao said, "if I had you in my life, housewife or not, I'll let you do whatever you'd like."
He grinned when her cheeks reddened.
"Anyway, you aren't exactly cut out for that kind of mundane, domestic adventure of sitting at home chained to the stove kind of wife. It's a waste of that brilliant brain-cell of yours."
"Well, thank you," she replied, slightly lightheaded from the unexpected compliment.
"Shall we resume the training now?" He stood up, dusting his trousers while Mulan still gaped at him.
"Hellooo?" He waved his hand in front of her face, smirking amusedly. "I said let's. Resume. Our. Training."
"But.. how about…―?"
"About what? Your panties?" He feigned an innocent face. "You can have it back after a hundred push up."
"Yes. No… I mean―Wait…―what? Hundred? HUNDRED?!"
He laughed and slapped her so hard on her shoulder she fell, and her face nearly came in contact with the ground. "Sorry, sorry," he hastily offered his hand. "Honestly, the stunt you've pulled was so convincing that I often forgot who you are," he lowered his voice. "Seriously, you should consider a career as a con man. I'd bet you'll make big bucks."
Mulan accepted his hand but glared dagger at him.
"Don't worry; I am a man swore to secrecy," he said, making a motion like zipping his mouth and crossing his heart. "I won't even tell Captain Handsome even if I ever saw his wife―in all her glory―naked by the stream."
"You... what?" A hot flush traveled from her head to her toes.
"How do you think I know you are a girl?" he said plainly. "It's a full moon night, and you are right there, hogging on my bathing spot."
"But…You should've...―"
"Look away?" he cut her in. "Listen, little lady! I am still a man with a set of good, working eyes. Gazing on unclothed women was like… breathing. It happened naturally, no man can resist," he defended, and Mulan felt like she wanted to melt and disappeared into the ground.
"So, ready for hundred press-ups?" he joked, offering his hand again to help her stand.
"Maybe after I'm finished dying of embarrassment," Mulan mumbled, accepting his hands.
Ever since that day, when Shao Wei had followed her to the kitchen to help her carry the dirty dishes. He even bought her two brand-new scraping brushes and gloves. She protested that her bare hand would suffice but he insisted: "No man will appreciate a wife with rough palm."
Mulan didn't doubt that was the case for Shao Wei, who had never experienced the excruciating privation of poverty, to appreciate the sentimental meaning behind a woman's sacrifice.
Nonetheless, he had joined her twice a day, washing the dishes by the river where she could tell him stories about her domestic struggle without the fear of beheading. Even though this decision could be potentially catastrophic, it had given her a curious sense of serenity.
Perhaps because Shao's treatment of her had never changed regardless of his knowledge about her gender. It made her feel accepted.
Not only that, the boastful prince had been a surprisingly pleasant tutor and sparring partner, she had found out. He was extremely patient, very easy going, and full of positivity. Despite his smug attitude and inclination to brag, never in her training he ran out of words of encouragement―didn't matter how terrible she was at something, he always had something good to say.
"Let me take another load," he offered after placing one large load of dirty plates. Mulan caught the sight of his arm with a twinge of guilt, that her teeth mark imprinted on his arm was still flowering.
"That's need attending," she told him without looking.
With the tail of her eyes, she caught his mischievous smirk. "I want to ask you to kiss it better, but I think that invariably gets me into trouble," he humored.
Mulan could only shake her head as she continued to wash.
"Mulan, are you sure this is a good idea?" Mushu whispered into her ears. The deity had been mostly silent these couple of days presumably because he had nothing useful to say.
"What do you mean?" she whispered back, trying to make sure Shao Wei didn't notice her talking to empty space next to her. The last thing she wanted was for the Prince to think that his new friend needed psychiatric help.
"Don't you think this is rather… intimate? You and him. Alone?"
"Two men are often alone washing dishes by the river, Mushu," she chastened him.
Mushu's brow twitched. It was the expression he often displayed, she'd noticed, when trying to mask his irritation at her stubbornness.
"Shang might not take it too kindly if he knew the Prince was currently flirting with his wife. Especially given the nature of his…."
"It's his fault that I ended up having to train with the Prince," Mulan stated bluntly.
"But he looked like peeing on you when you did your sparring with the Prince. Figuratively, of course," Mushu said. When Mulan answered him with a frown he went on elaborating. "You know, the way males predator marked their territory and property."
"Are you saying Shang is a predator?"
"No, I'm saying you are his property," Mushu clarified, clearing his throat.
His property. It didn't sound any better to her ears when he said it out loud than when she heard it in her own head. She really hated this conversation and how it picked at every insecurity she had about her domestic position right now, even if the entire virgin population of China thought Shang was a good catch.
"That's flattering," she answered him rather curtly.
"If Shang is a predator, I don't know what he is," Mushu glanced towards the Prince of Wei who just left to take another load of dirty dishes from the tent. "Just by the way he teases you I know he had years of philandering under his belt."
"Oh, so you are siding with Shang," she said, couldn't help to sound a little vicious.
"I'm not on anyone's side. I'm just giving a perspective that you seem to lack!" he bit back.
Mulan groaned loudly. "He was just helping me with the dishes, Mushu, did you call that flirting? Washing dishes won't hurt anyone."
Mushu pursed his mouth. "And it also doesn't hurt that he is handsome, smart, ...happen to be the third man on the throne of China and….single!" He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "He even had a gut to ask you to kiss it… ―"
"Shang doesn't know that," she cut him quickly, not keen to hear it again out loud.
"Mulan, he is practically spending the whole day with you!" Mushu demanded.
She rolled her eyes and muttered, "As if he is noticing me."
"Hey, listen. In the land of men, an ugly woman is a queen!"
"I take that as a compliment," Mulan snorted. Admittedly, Mushu's colorful aphorism was rather clever, but she wasn't going to voice such praise aloud.
"Unbelievable!" Mushu fumed and stepped out of her sight.
"Hey, where are you going?" she said when she saw Mushu march toward the direction of Shang's tent.
"I probably should warn him, because your dance card now includes handsome royalty."
"Mushu!" she yelled in an attempt to stop him. "Shao is not on my dance card! I couldn't even dance!"
She was just finishing the last chapter of the war stratagem and decided to conclude by doing the little mathematic equation scribbled by her father at the back of the page when she felt his eyes on her. Glancing up, she frowned at the way he was observing her, or more exactly what she was writing.
"Hum, is there something wrong?"
Shao Wei gaped at her. "How the hell do you do that?"
"Do what? This?" she asked, pointing towards the scroll with the tip of her quill. "Math?"
"No, reading explicit porn," he snorted at his friend's incognizance. "Ping, of course, it is math!"
"I am wounded that you think I can't do math," she countered, rolling the scroll and draining the cup of tea next to her.
"Well, yes! It took you five minutes to finish this, and even though I don't have algebra, thank God by the way, I know it's not supposed to take only five minutes to complete!"
Mulan blushed as she shifted in her seat. "My father always said math is important. It helps you build a bridge, build a castle and...win the war."
"Math also can be related to sex," Shao quipped. "You add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs and pray you don't multiply. Your father's word, not mine."
When she gasped, aghast, he laughed. "I guess the witty Fa Zhou knew how to ignite my interest in mathematical equations."
"He taught you...that?" she inquired in disbelief.
"...What? Sex?" He waved his hand, "No, no. Only advanced military tactics and war concepts, plus… a few weeks of practical sword combat. In exchange, I've shared my vast experience of pleasing women in bed. Your mother needs to thank me for that."
"How I am not surprised," she deadpanned. "But, all things considered, you are not a bad teacher yourself."
"I suppose I am lucky, to be born with an outstanding privilege when it came to the best tutor in the country to bring me where I am," he said. The unexpected humility his admittance carried sounded odd in her ears. She guessed these was the rare moment when he spoke of the truth.
"I think my father knew what kind of great things you are capable of," she answered him, reciting her father's tale in her head. Yes, Shao Wei had never been a keen student. But the young man had a quick, analytical mind and capacious memory that had enabled him to learn many things with little effort. Unfortunately, he had always been impatient in his learning and a bit too woman-crazy to move into fulfilling his side of the bargain. It was no wonder if he had been notoriously infamous for his slacking―actively seeking a shortcut and quick patch as the solution to his problem. By the time he'd realized the true value of his schooling, it was over.
"Well, he wasn't wrong about my capability in bed," he said, replying to the banter. The humor in his voice had returned. "But…" He turned to her without missing a beat. "I am not wrong about you then―apparently you are a genius! It's in your blood!"
"Hummm…" she hummed, mildly annoyed and mostly amused with the way Shao Wei steered the conversation away from him. "My father said so, but he might be extremely biased."
"The classes at school must be way too easy for you."
Mulan winced. "Yeah, a little. I do take a few other classes after school for fun. Like this one," she gestured towards a few other scrolls littering the ground.
"War strategy classes? Practical algebra? Statistical probability?" Shao spelled out loud.
"Among others."
"War strategy classes. For fun?! You're taking War strategy and algebra classes… for fun?!" His eyes flashed with a strange mix of admiration and a pinch of sarcasm.
Again, she shrugged, not really knowing what to say. "It's like playing xiangqi, I guess? It can be entertaining… and a good way to spend your spare time."
It was almost comical to see Shao Wei's bushy eyebrows disappear into his hairline, staring wide-eyed and jaw-slacked. But he quickly gained his princely composure and nodded sagely. "That's an….unconventional way to spend your… spare time."
"You mean sad?" she implicated.
"I was trying to be chivalrous and polite," he grinned, appreciating how she was able to read his mind. "Although I regret my previous immature attitude towards learning, I still think spending your spare time studying feels like wasting valuable brain space. Why would you want to swim against the strong current when you could afford to climb out the riverbank and walk?"
"Maybe," she shrugged noncommittally. "But it's different though. You are studying with the hope that someday you will apply what you know… while I.. ―" she trailed off, she was not here to discuss her domestic dilemma. Clearing her throat, she continued, "You are designed for greatness, Shao. Someday, you'll lead this nation….and do your father proud."
"Greatness? You are the first to say that," he sniggered.
"I mean… I know you are not that keen on the idea of… throne," she said carefully. "But you have all the right qualities―assertive, confident, driven. Being a leader suits you." And when he didn't respond right away, she then added. "Ok, perhaps not as Emperor as yet. Maybe a General of the Imperial Army." It was not unusual for the direct relative of the Emperor or his predecessor to hold an office in the army. Consider it as a good place to start and exercise power for the future throne.
Shao Wei paused, looking at her, and laughed loudly. "Me? General? No, no, no," he shook his head, tilting his head towards the training ground where the rest of the regiment was doing their drill.
"Captain Li is a better candidate than me. He is far more charismatic, disciplined, hands-on, and experienced on the battlefield. You agree with me, right? He would make an excellent leader…Nice on the eyes too," he said with fake awe and a phony smirk plastered on his face. Mulan didn't quite notice he was teasing her until he said, "Especially when shirtl… ―" He couldn't finish his sentence and ducked behind the rock to avoid a few stones she sent his way. "Sorry, I was joking," he laughed, waving the tip of his cape as a white flag.
"Not funny," she said as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
It was clear her snarky answer didn't deter him. "Consider this as my generosity in offering voluntary love advice: occasional gazing, blushing, and smiling are considered an ineffectual flirting technique. Men don't get that."
Like what the hell do you want me to do? Walk up to him and ask if he wants to bang? The voice in her head grumbled.
"Not helping!" she berated him.
"You have to step up your game! Do something bolder! Something more noticeable and daring!" he said with enthusiasm.
"Yeah," she snickered. "...and get massacred by Chi-Fu if he found out the boy who nearly incinerated him alive was actually a woman no less the wife of the Captain he had disagreed to promote," she told him bluntly. "And then when Shang realized who I truly am, he'll hate me even more."
He squatted closer, "You don't honestly think he hates you, do you?"
While she knew Shang had made efforts to reply to her letter and bought her souvenirs, those gestures were hardly warranting any depth of love or meaningful emotional connection. Perhaps he was just trying to tolerate her or at least being a civil or responsible husband. After all, Shang was a man of duty before anything else.
"Listen. If it isn't because of my grandma accidentally…" she made a quote motion with her finger, "bathe Mrs. Li with a pan of sweet-sour soup, I won't be Shang's wife," Mulan explained.
"So you think all this is an accident?" he quipped. "Because as an outsider, I can see the chemistry between you two is so real. That's incredible considering Shang saw you as a man," he remarked, chuckling. "I think this is your destiny!"
His joke was responded to with the most unimpressed gaze it deserved. "Destiny huh?"
"There is no accident. Often, a person meets his destiny on the road to avoid it," he said sagely.
"Destiny is not written for us, but by us," she impugned.
"True. But once destiny guides you to certain someone, it's up to you to hold on... or to let go. Have you not heard of opposite attraction?" he said again. "The cunning...and the gullible. The dreamer...and the pragmatic. A woman of vision...and a man of action. The beauty…" he tilted his head towards Shang. "And the beast," and turned to her.
He laughed hard when Mulan pinched his arms. "Ouch… ok ok, very pretty beast."
She released him and his grin widened. "If you let me help you, I can prove that he," pointing at Shang who was demonstrating a set of Kung Fu moves with his usual calculative, performative grace. "He is equally attracted to you more than he ever dares to admit."
Mulan scoffed softly but let him continue. "Most of the women in my palace would die for that chance staring at the unobstructed view of Captain Tall, Dark and Handsome. The ultimate embodiment of focus and ferocity... even when he is a bit emotionally constipated."
"Emotionally what…?"
"Constipated," Shao said levelly, "But still, I noticed it does little to discourage you to stare at his abs when he… ―"
"Shut up!" She breathed loudly from her nostril. "One more mention of his abs, and I'll skin you alive."
Shao grunted when she jabbed his side with a powerful punch. But his smile sharpened. "Nineteen-year-olds and their sass."
That night, Mulan laid on her usual spot to sleep, laid among their minimal belongings, and covered on spare rags for comfort. Next to her was Ling, who capriciously sandwiched between her and Chien-Po. The tight-fitting arrangement which normally felt like a tribulation in the summer month had become a blessing as the weather turned frigid and cold. In fact, Ling unashamedly pressed against Chien-Po's side, cuddling him for warmth.
And like many other days, they chatted about the highlight of their day.
"The big hurdle is you agreeing to do me this monumental favor," Ling told her as she adjusted the position of the fabric to cover as much surface of her body as to retain valuable heat. "You can pretend to be my sister and..."
"What? Accompanying you as your sister?" she practically hissed.
"That's the only way she'll open up to you. Girls normally tell secrets about the man they fancied to other girls."
Mulan clicked her tongue at him. "You know that's a very bad idea. If I owned two heads, Captain Li is going to chop them both."
Ling pouted. "If I became an old bachelor, that would be entirely your fault!"
"I don't think she didn't like you, Ling," Chien-Po shared a piece of his thought. "She didn't give you a definite answer. That's to be exact."
"Agreed. Silence could mean yes," she piped in.
"Stop telling her, show her!" Chien-Po said enthusiastically. When Ling just raised his brows, he went on. "Kiss her!" His voice which was only a pitch too loud received a resounding rebuke from the resident next to him whose slumber was interrupted. Chien-Po profusely apologised.
"Have you not heard? Kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to express something when the words are not enough." He was definitely whispering this time.
"Whatever," Ling said. "My point is, I am hesitating. What if she was just having a fling? I can understand if she didn't feel the same. We haven't spent much time together apart from a few minutes here and there. Isn't that too careless and a bit convulsive to warrant something like intimate like a kiss?"
"Hell, I went straight into sharing a bed with a man I didn't know. Forget about the introduction, forget about the kiss. Surprise! The reality of life!"
Ling looked at her thoughtfully and Mulan realized that was a bit tactless of her to be lecturing her love-stricken friend on the pitfalls of matrimony.
"Worry not," she hastened to assure him. "You and Ting Ting will be different." She really hoped.
Chien-Po nodded, agreeing. "And... considering we are going to die, may as well enjoy that as much as you can... Right?"
"So, you want me to dig about what exactly?" Mulan returned the question.
When Ling didn't immediately answer, Chien-Po beat him to it. "He wanted to make aware if he had any competition in pursuing her." And he mouthed 'Prince of Wei' to which everyone was reminded how the Prince and Ting Ting become all too up-close and intimate to warrant something labeled as platonic.
"Well, if that handsome creep had hurt her, I will remove his balls with a meat cleaver," Ling placed a piercing look towards Mulan. "Your idea."
"That's very specific. And very graphic. But at least you still acknowledge that he has balls," Chien-Po pointed out.
"...and handsome," Mulan added. "Apparently the mystery of attraction and chemistry isn't just skin deep."
"Yeah," Chien-Po sighed dreamily.
"The kind of love we find blossoming amidst war," she teased him.
"Speak for yourself, Lady. I've seen you with someone lately. What's the deal?" Ling probed.
Mulan shook her head. "I told you before, I don't exactly have time for this conversation."
"Oh come on Mulan," Ling whined. "I am perfectly sure you are not this obtuse. No harm in discussing such things with us," he addressed innocently. However, a brief impish smirk he exchanged with Chien-Po, conveying a silent message she understood all too well.
They knew her secret crush.
Mulan's cheeks heated because unfortunately, describing what type of man she found herself attracted to would immediately implicate Shang; and even the slothful Chien-Po wasn't so dense to presume she was talking about someone else. While she trusted Ling implicitly, particularly with this kind of secret, they were bordering on a discussion she wasn't ready to admit, not even to herself.
"No... I don't think it is wise to divulge unnecessary detail of my imaginary extramarital affair," Mulan replied, pretending to be unnerved. "It would be scandalous if the world knew who the person is."
When Ling's eyes widened with apparent realization, Mulan felt mentally cringing preemptively at whatever her friend had discerned. "It is the Prince, isn't it? He suddenly grew rather close to you since he began training you."
"Woah!" Chien Po gasped. "This is an utterly crazy love-chain saga! First Ling and Ting Ting, then Ting Ting and the Prince, and now….you?"
Ling cleared his throat. "Don't worry, as much as I dislike him, I won't impress my negative sentiment on you. Everyone is entitled to their own feelings."
"Geez, apparently you are woman enough to attract bad boys," Chien-Po said, amazed.
Mulan instantly felt relieved that her friend's assumptions continued to be so far from the truth. But were they? While Ling was incorrect in his assumption of who she loved, she did genuinely like Shao Wei. The boastful, arrogant prince, regardless of his pride, was manly enough to apologize and correct his behavior, thus earning her respect.
She smiled mostly to herself. "I like the Prince…"
Ling prompted after another beat of silence. "I am sensing a 'but' is coming…?"
Mulan threw him a knowing look. "As a friend, Ling," she said seriously. "As a friend. Just like you."
Ling visibly steeled at her words. It had reminded him of years in the past of their spectacularly failed romance. Mulan was a friend―a very good friend. The kind of friend who would drop everything in a heartbeat to do whatever he needed. The kind of friend that could see beyond his weaknesses and less-than-hunky stature. And there had been a few sparks on his part, especially after knowing her intimately since they were both toddlers that he had thought that a relationship was worth a shot. But now, Ling counted their friendship and surviving their amorous relationship among his great blessings in life.
Because rare as it is true love, true friendship is rarer.
Apart from the night when Shao Wei discovered her deception, the rest of the week was pretty much uneventful. Thankfully, Shao Wei had never breathed or hinted anything of a kind to other people, even when she had explicitly told him who in this encampment had known about her true gender. She was relieved the plot twist had finally ended.
Ling and Chien-Po had long gone, snoring coherently in a strange harmonizing rhythm. Sinking into her makeshift bed, she ruminated on Shao's words about her relationship with Shang.
Was it possible that they were meant to be together?
Was this fate...
Or was it destiny?
No, she thought to herself. She never believed in destiny. She believed actions and decisions were the elements that drove one's path. That destiny wasn't a fixed thing, it was something ones created. But what if Shao was right: there was no accident? That she was meeting her destiny on the road where she thought she could avoid it. That despite her bitterness, her attraction toward Shang prevailed.
But how could she be attracted to someone who constantly contended her opinion? Shang had always challenged, questioned, and opposed everything that she wanted. How could she possibly find this...endearing?
Yes, she was a stubborn idealist, and her unique circumstances to be born as a woman amplified her trait even more. As a woman, she might seem weak and delicate on the outside, but her resolve was made of steel. Shang, on the other hand, was a loyal, subservient, and no-nonsense kind of guy. He was programmed to follow orders and submit to a higher authority. He appeared strong from the outside, but fragile on the inside.
Shang was yin to her yang. He was her opposite, the person who would make her….complete.
Her silent thoughts were interrupted by a distant shout. "We need help!" was blustered from a distance away and Mulan's heart stopped in her chest.
There was Shao Wei, half-carried, half-walked Shang into the clearing. There was an arrow sticking on Shang's chest, blood dripping unto his armor, his shoes, on the ground... and everywhere.
"Captain Li! Captain Li is injured!"