Shang opened his eyes to the distant sound of rushing footfalls outside his tent. Even from his deepest sleep, his soldier senses had been honed to detect the slightest movement and any form of danger. He looked through a small rip on the tent roof, watching the constellation twinkle in the night.
"Captain… captain!" the panicked voice of Chi-Fu echoed as he barged before Shang had time to grant him access.
"Venerable Chi-Fu," Shang greeted. His spine straightened reflexively, and his voice automatically took the air of authority. "I want to emphasise that while you are here at my father's command, you still have to respect the boundary…..and my privacy."
The old man scoffed, "This is very important!"
"Well, it better be," he muttered.
"Someone stole the emperor seal from my tent!"
Shao twisted and turned on his large bed. Despite the ultra-smooth silk spread courtesy of Venerable Yen, a warm furnace to fight the cold wintry night and premium goose feather blanket, slumber was nowhere in sight. His thought drifted to Mulan every passing minute, about her possible fate and situation. What could be worse than a woman posing as a soldier when she was pregnant and alone?
It was unsettling.
She has her husband, offered a voice in his head. And, ultimately, this whole charade is her choice. You've done all you can!
But you are her friend!
For heaven's sake, of all your problems… you decided to think about this one.
This is not your plan for her. Your plan was for her to assassinate the Great Khan. This is why you've trained her. Have you forgotten?
He hadn't. But knowing the situation, how could he?
Ah! You liked her. Admit it. Of all beautiful virgins, you had fallen head over heels for a married woman? How pathetic. Imagine what your father will say if he heard a prince your calibre had reduced himself to assist a sloppy wannabe out of her own screw-ups. All in the name of lo…—
No. No. He couldn't have been besotted by a married woman. All these random thoughts, concern, attention, and kindness were just….guilt!
Yes, people said that generosity was a sign of guilt; perhaps this was true. But what had been genuine remorse had slowly morphed into sympathy, and sympathy bred into something else.
Shao sighed loudly, burying his face under his pillow and groaned, "Why should I care?!"
He wished he had a gut to walk straight to her and told her everything—of his scheme, his dilemma, her pregnancy…..his concern for her.
What would she say? How would she respond? He wondered.
Yes, Mulan was graced with sharp minds and keen intuition, but she was also unbelievingly unpredictable and down-right stubborn (which he quietly admitted had given her more endearing value). Given a scenario of a new problem, only gods know a kind of crazy plan she might be brewing next. And then she would land in a deeper pit than she already was.
But even Shao knew his reasoning was only an excuse for concealing an ugly truth that was laid within: a cowardice part of him was afraid she might never forgive him for using her. Yes, he was a snake. A liar who dressed his conniving motive with seemingly noble deeds. He was a deceitful chauvinist pig who had betrayed her in one of the worst ways a man could treat a woman.
Okay, if telling her is not an option… or at least, not now. What about telling Shang?
Everyone knew that he, the Prince, had been so adamant to let Ping join the army despite Shang's unfavourable response. He had 'employed' his power (or abuse would be a better word) to overturn the situation to his will. Now that the boy had passed the ultimate test, what kind of acceptable excuse Shang would accept in order to relinquish Ping from his post?
You are a good man, Shao Wei. And this is not a compliment. It's the truth. Shang's words resonated in his mind.
A couple of weeks ago, subduing Shang to his authority would've been easier. But now, he won't risk their newly forged friendship. Shang might be a perfectionist and morbidly serious in a matter of soldering, but Shao had the honour of witnessing the 'softer' part of the otherwise stoic captain. Behind his iron mask, Shang unexpectedly had been more accepting of others' flaws than he. Perhaps because he hadn't been born to privilege, into expecting all his whims and wants to be fulfilled.
Despite his screwed-up life (and argumentatively incriminating Shang of favouring Ping in a way that was inappropriate) Shang had come to respect him, siding him and trusting him as a good friend would.
In Shao's own assessment, Shang might be a little too naive for putting blind faith in him. But Shang was always a simpler man than him and a better man at heart. It was Shang who had breathed hope that he could be a good man. And even if he weren't a good man… not yet, Shao wanted Shang to believe that he was not a power-thirst ruler or hypocritical as other politicians. How would Shang respond if he knew he had been kept in the dark for months about Ping's secret identity? About his plan to hone her to kill the Great Khan? No doubt it would destroy his initial faith in him, but more importantly, what would he do to Ping? Would he… disown her? Divorce her? Or worse….punish her?
It was an impossible situation.
And telling Ling wasn't a good option either. Although the lanky soldier was undoubtedly Mulan's closest friend, Ling was far too inquisitive and impetuous. There was no way he could ask Ling's favour without expounding her secret in its depth and length. And then the man would have rattled a noisy concern if he discovered the truth of her conception. Chien-Po, on the other hand, had a more quiet and calm inclination.
"I will send an update to you about Ping every week, My Prince," Chien-Po had promised him, although curious bafflement clouded his eyes he asked no questions. Shao didn't tell him much. And Chien-Po knew royal order was meant to be obeyed, not scrutinised.
"Thank you," Shao had said without elaborating further. He had done all he could, but he couldn't shake off the foreboding feeling that lingered in his head.
He feared something bad was about to happen.
Something really bad.
"So….Someone broke into your tent?"
"Well, what do you think?" Chi-Fu replied wryly. Both men stood by the threshold of Chi-Fu's tent inspecting the havoc whoever culprit had created while rummaging through the councillors belonging.
"And I just had my tent rebuilt and my new clothing purchased after the incident with that beloved apprentice of yours incinerated everything."
Shang chose to ignore Chi-Fu's sarcastic comment about Fa Ping's blunder in accidentally aiming the cannon at his tent. He should have counted himself lucky he wasn't baked alive. Right now, they had a bigger problem than a stray cannon.
"And you said nothing else was lost besides the Emperor's seal?" Shang inquired, trying to stay focused even though the desire to insult the councillor was growing by the minute.
"Correct," Chi-Fu confirmed. "That stupid bandit even dared to vandalise my belongings," he said, picking up one of his robes that sported muddy footprints all over it. "You must round this man up, Captain Li. We can't have a little thief running around the encampment, stealing random things from the soldiers when they are out in the field."
Whoever the rogue was, Shang knew he wasn't a bandit. Bandits stole finery and riches and so far, there was no such case. They've been out here for months and Chi-Fu was the first and only victim. Looking at the evidence laid before him, this 'thief' had ignored all of Chi-Fu's expensive belongings and went straight for the seal.
An object laid abandoned on the foot of Chi-Fu's bureau caught their eyes. Bright gold and red silk fabric.
"Isn't that…?"
"Prince Shao Wei's hair tie," Shang concluded, perusing the object in his hand. No one in the encampment had such a decorative, hand-woven silk ribbon that perhaps cost as much as a farmer's annual income.
Chi-Fu gasped. "Is that mean he is…?"
"No. I don't think the Prince of Wei is the culprit. He has been absent for a couple of days. He hasn't even been to his tent, let alone come here to steal the seal."
"But he is the only one with motive! Have you not heard about his difficult relationship with the Emperor?" Chi-Fu insisted. "Having this seal will allow him legalising unlawful decree, passing unfair law… and…and...—"
But if anyone knew Shao Wei, he wasn't a careless person who would leave a blatant trail like muddy footprints and hair ties left astray at the crime scene. After all, he was the man who had fooled his own family and the entire country over his sister's fake death.
"Someone must've framed him," Shang thought out loud.
"Seriously? But, but….why?" Chi-Fu retorted back.
It was the same question Shang had asked himself. But, who knew? Shao himself admitted that he was an easy man to hate. It was entirely possible someone might hold grudges against him without him knowing. Shang recounted Shao's trolling mischief that had irked him on various occasions. Not to mention he was insufferably arrogant. Even Shang, given the time and space, would be framing a destructive vengeance over him. However, now understanding Shao's life tragedy had left Shang feeling unwittingly sympathetic towards the man, protective even—not that he would admit that out loud.
"Why did you carry such a valuable item to this camp?" Shang cleverly steered away from the question. "You should've known the risk," he said, putting his best condescending voice for better effect.
"Huh? I thought…. I thought I may…―" Chi-Fu spluttered at the unexpectedly vindictive statement.
"You may need it on the battlefield. I doubt it," Shang rebutted, staying polite but sharp.
"But..―"
Shang didn't interrupt the Emperor councillor again but gave a look that suggested he want silence and Chi-Fu immediately clamped his mouth shut.
But that big-mouthed councillor was a hard man to please, this Shang knew. Although he might not dare to report this incident back to Chang'an fearing his own ultimate dismissal, nothing could stop the old man from spreading untrue gossip about the Prince roundabout the encampment, worse, selling the rumour anonymously to the tabloid. Therefore, to solidify Shao's innocence, Shang suggested searching his tent.
The tent was in the condition Shang had predicted. The air was musty and stagnant like it hadn't seen the light of day. The bed was damp and cold, and even spiders and critters began to build their empire among some of Shao's belongings. After rummaging for nearly an hour, the search came to a negative conclusion just as Shang had predicted.
"So, what do you suggest, Captain?" Chi-Fu said, now sounding untypically desperate. Shang could only imagine what kind of punishment awaited him if the Emperor learnt of his negligence.
"If this man is after the Emperor's seal, he may not be just an ordinary thief. He must be someone with a political agenda. I believe you know that a group of guerillas is moving through the precinct, right?" Shang said. "And I am sure you are fully aware of what kind of damage they can inflict," he added when his previous statement didn't inflict the appropriate level of fear in Chi-Fu's face.
"But, Captain... there are a dozen men on patrol! If there is a Hun sneaking in, someone would've seen him!" Chi-Fu argued, which was right. After the lethal assassination attempt, they'd installed more armed soldiers patrolling the vicinity. And for extra protection, Shang had installed a few extra recruits to guard Chi-Fu's and Shao's tents—an extra precaution if anyone managed to filter through their first defence. "Besides, the Huns won't be so thoughtless to attack us with the same method twice. Don't you think so, Captain?"
"Indeed," Shang replied, glancing through the gap in the drapes at the front of the tent. The entire encampment was still fast asleep. "The culprit must be one of our own."
A week ago a half-battered man arrived in their encampment unholy hour in the morning.
"Is...is this Wuzong training camp?" he asked, before failing to stand.
They took the man to the infirmary, resuscitating him. Despite his half-swollen face and blue reddish bruise on his left eye, Mulan immediately recognised the man. He was Chun Yi, her neighbour from back home.
"My son's village," he sputtered. "It's under attack. Please… please help."
Moments later, Shang assembled a small team carrying medication, food and water in the hope of finding some survivors. Mulan found herself trailing behind him into a dark, scattered forest that eventually led them to an uncharted village by the river outside Jinan.
It was clear that there was some kind of incursion hours ago in that place. The team trudged through the killing zone, smouldering remains of houses that had been wrapped in a thick blanket of ashes, the air was sour and eerie. Bodies of unarmed civilians, bathed in their own blood or charred with heat.
Mulan didn't know how Shang, or any soldier for that fact, had to stomach so much death without having any disturbing thoughts. What she saw today was clearly going to haunt her for a long time.
Suddenly a faint crying was heard.
The tightness in Mulan's chest lessened slightly at the sound. A least there was one survivor. Whether the cries were from physical pain or emotional trauma she wasn't sure, but either way, it was heartbreaking to listen to.
Shang stopped in the middle of the clearing, and headed to one of the houses, carefully opening the door that was barely hanging on its hinges. The living room was small, covered with cinders and seared furniture, the floor was scorched and covered with ashes. The turmoil of emotion began to take form inside him, something very different from his usual stoic and proud gentility until Mulan turned to call him.
"Captain?"
And the controlled composure fell back on his face. "Fetch the medic bag, we may have found a survivor."
When he lifted the charred table, Shang came face to face with a shaking three years old that looked too afraid to really move. A shadow of fear clouded his eyes, curling to the far end of the corner.
Wearing his softest voice and gentle smile, Shang tried to calm the frantic toddler to accept his help.
"It's alright, boy. We're gonna be okay."
The sound of a groan had him turning and facing the woman who had been trapped under the beam of the roof. The weight of the roof must have crushed her, and judging by the size of the pooling mass of blood, she didn't have much time left.
Out of instinct, Mulan reached her hand through the opening and grabbed the woman's hand which she probably didn't know was shaking. "Ma'am, just hang in there. We are getting help!"
A tug of hand was her answer.
"No," she said, still clutching Mulan's hand in hers. "Please, just…. Just promise me… to take good care of him…..Will you?" she said between rasps, gripping her hand a little tighter. "He is all that I have."
"What's his name?" Mulan quoted absently, while her mind was struggling to escape from a fog of emotion and panic.
"Wentai. Chao Wentai."
"We will," Shang interjected, assuredly. "I promise I will give him a good home. You can rest now," he said despicably calm as he took the boy with him.
"Be brave, my son," the woman said as she laboured her last breath.
With a new wave of sobs, Wentai strained against Shang's powerful grip, thrashing violently like a wild animal, desperately stretching his little arms as far as they could go trying to reach his mother. "Mama! Mama!"
Mulan laid on her bed, unable to sleep. As soon as she tried to close her eyes, the image of hell and death danced across her darkened vision. Wentai's pained cries filled her ears, and his pitiful wail resonated through the desolate ground as Shang extricated the unwilling toddler from his dead mother.
It was the most emotional goodbye she had ever wished to witness.
What the Huns did to the defenceless Chinese civilians was brutal. But in war there was no right or wrong, there was no moral compass, and mercy was a symbol of weaknesses.
The Chinese soldiers weren't all that different. Shang had told the recruits time and time again, they would have to hunt their enemy down, they would have to kill, and they would have to live knowing there was certain death intact to their name. There was no need for remorse, Captain Li cited—because whether they were the Huns or the Chinese, these warriors were nothing but tools moved by forces greater than they were. They were here to live as fighters and die as heroes.
But burning a building with a mother and little child in it? Mulan could've sobbed at the inhumanity of it.
Stop looking at the dead, see the living. Shang had told them on the way back from the ill-fated village. None of us can change the past, but we can do a lot for our future, for our freedom!
It turned up that being ready for war was more than just passing the training. It was also a mental battle to be able to endure whatever they would be forced to see or do, including interrogating, torturing, or even killing. War was the only occasion when murdering other beings didn't violate any rule in the book of moral code. And she didn't know whether she was ready for it.
Rushed footfalls and loud orders stalled her thoughts.
Shang appeared at the tent entrance, sweeping his authoritative gaze. "Wake up! Everyone stripped off their clothes! Surrender your bag to be checked!"
The general murmur erupted among the sleepy recruits.
"It's the middle of the night, can't we…?"
"What's happened…?" Chien-Po asked between his yawn. "Is there anything wrong, Captain?"
"Recruits! You've heard your order. Tardiness will be punished accordingly!" Shang announced firmly. Next to him, Chi Fu flashed his sinister smile, baring his crooked, uneven teeth.
Hearing their Captain's command, the troop expeditiously stripped their clothes and surrender their possession, this time their eyes were downcast and differential. The mood in the tent became grim and dreary.
"What are you waiting for, Ping?" Chi-Fu shouted at her, shaking her out of her daze.
Mulan felt her courage wilted under the old man's grilling stare. "You heard what Captain Li said. What are you waiting for? Strip to your underwear! Or… you have something to hide?"
She suddenly felt sick.
Would this be her end?
There was an orderly commotion outside the courtyard of the Forbidden Palace. The assemblage of young, fine men in armour, positioned themselves in perfect rows while others procured food and ammunition supplies for the journey ahead.
"Are you sure we need this many people and ammunition to fetch Prince Shao Wei, Master Peng?" one of the men said, staring at colossal teams of warhorses and ammunition.
"Honorable Feng, my experience as an intel told me that we have better prepared more than less. We don't know whether the Prince will show resistance or has any allies in the encampment. And even if Prince Shao Wei submitted peacefully to the invitation, it is still a potentially perilous journey to escort him back to Chang'an, we are moving very close to the border of the enemy territory."
"Master," another man stepped forward, saluting him.
"Lieutenant Wong," he said, returning the gesture.
"We are ready to depart. I've asked a few soldiers to comb through the forest of Xingyang. I think we knew the suspected location of the safe house. It shouldn't be difficult to take the Princess into our custody."
"Remember, we must capture her unscathed."
"Understood," The man saluted him again and nodded.
As soon as his subordinates left for their designated task, Peng raised his sword and exclaimed to the contingency with a voice of authority. "To Wuzong camp!"
Shang paced around the tent, eyes inspecting the recruits as they methodically undressed into their underwear.
"I steal it," admitted a voice.
Ping? Shang couldn't believe his ears. Of all the men, how could it be him?
"Most impressive," came Chi-Fu's satirical sneer. "This is a slanderous crime. Captain Li, I demanded him to be put to death," Chi-Fu said without giving a chance for Ping to defend himself.
"This is by no means a crime worthy of capital punishment," Shang immediately objected without much thinking.
"But you set the example and send a message to the entire regiment that you won't tolerate such crime!" Chi-Fu asserted with his familiar disdain.
"We don't need to waste a life just to send the right message!"
"I know you won't…," he said knowingly, as though wasn't surprised at Shang's point-blank refusal. "Now tell me. Is it because Ping is your brother-in-law you feel you have a right to show loyalty to Fa Zhou… or because of other reasons?"
Damn. Shang felt oddly cornered by Chi-Fu's pointed question but found no right answer.
"Ah, I take it silence is a sign of affirmation," Chi-Fu sneered when Shang remained silent.
There was no denying how he had favoured Ping recently, but Shang didn't want everyone in the encampment to have an impression that his favouritism had him blinded to this fault. The old councillor was playing a game and trying to discredit his integrity in front of his regiment.
"There is no other reason. I am simply stating what deems reasonable," Shang said levelly although his heavy breathing might speak otherwise. Mastering his anger wasn't easy, but Shang determined not to please Chi-Fu by giving the Emperor's advisor what he wanted. He had reminded himself that a respectable, judicious leader would never let emotions cloud his judgement.
"According to the imperial decree, anyone who showed any treachery intention will be indiscriminately executed," Chi-Fu spelt out. "Except the man has strong proof that he has been framed, to which we would take the matter to the High Court of Justice to be investigated, of course. But your brother-in-law admitted his crime out loud. There is no need for a trial."
Shang stared at the boy while his head ran with hundreds of different thoughts. Was it really him? But why? And most importantly…. How could he, of any man, executing his own brother-in-law, the very person he was supposed to protect? His mind went blank.
Adjacent to Ping, Ling whispered to him pleadingly. "Ping, please...don't do this," followed by Chien-Po's distressful sob. Both men seemed to be equally overthrown by Ping's revelation. Ping was famous for being unpredictable, but even Shang couldn't believe Ping was capable of this level of deceit.
Ping only responded with a weak, dispirited shake of his head. "I have no other choice." And he stepped forward, readily surrendering himself to accept his fate.
"Good boy. You really know your place," Chi-Fu said with a voice that bore no sympathy. "Although you've burnt my tent before, rest assured this is nothing personal." Yeah, sure it was.
Shang opened his mouth. He was ready to antagonise the old councillor and rationalise Ping's innocence only to realise hundreds of timid yet curious gaze was trained on him.
He ran through his train of thoughts again, just to come to the same frustrating conclusion. There was no alibi. There was no proof. Ping was guilty until proven otherwise.
Shang let a long, heavy exhale. He would think about plan B later, but for now….
"Justice will be served. Ping shall be executed tomorrow morning."
She was moved into the empty tent next to the stables, away from the rest of the encampment. Her wrists were tied to the rafter with the rope that was hanging above her. She had been standing for hours and her legs were begging her for mercy.
Be thankful at least you are not hanging upside down. She recalled her father told her a story of a criminal who had been left in such a position in prison to inflict further suffering. Or laid on a bed of nails that slowly dig into your flesh...
Her pondering was interrupted when she heard heavy, padded footfalls. Then followed by a silhouette of a large, bulky figure.
"Chien-Po? What are you doing here? You… you are not supposed to be here," she said, fearing a similar kind of sanction fell on him.
"I don't care," he retorted, surprisingly curt. "Sorry," he squeaked when he noticed the surprised look on her face. "Bad mood," he said as an explanation.
Both of them fell silent as he removed the ropes from her wrist. She slumped to the ground expelling a sound of relief, her legs thanking him for the respite.
"Chien-Po…?"
No answer, but he didn't stop his ministration, preparing a bit of hay so she didn't have to sit on the cold, half-frozen ground.
"Here," he said placing a bowl of something and a cup of herbal tea without meeting her eyes. "Your lunch."
Usually, she would've teased Chien-Po that It was a little too generous to be called lunchtime since the sun already hovered above the horizon. But no, this was not the right time for cheerful banter.
She carefully opened the lid to reveal its content. The tantalizing smell of tofu dressed with honey and garlic sauce filled the room. As far as her last meal, this was probably the best she could hope for.
"Thank you," she said, smiling as she took the bowl from his hands. Although she was desperately hungry, she restrained herself from inhaling the contents of the bowl in one go. This was her last meal, after all. She had to relish every bite.
They sat in silence as he watched her chew her food thoughtfully. By then he had the courage to lift up his face, catching her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mulan..."
She paused chopsticks halfway between the bowl and her mouth. "Chien-Po, what are you talking about? This is not your fault."
"I know," he said, ungracefully wiping any semblance of tears with his sleeves. "But, still…" he let another undignified snort. "There is something you need to know."
And the next thing he told her was the least expected plot twist of all.
"So Yao stole the seal? But...why?"
Chien-Po responded with an unfamiliar growling sound from his throat instead of from his belly. "He wanted to settle a score with the Prince and Captain Li."
Mulan raised her brow at that. Part of her was curious about which part of brutal training that's worth this kind of revenge. Not that it mattered now.
"Ling is giving Yao a piece of his mind as we speak," Chien-Po explained, "But he would see you first thing in the morning before sunup."
Mulan gave him a sombre smile. Ling was unbelievably sweet and loyal. Shao was right, she was very lucky. "He doesn't have to. I don't want anyone else gets into trouble for sneaking into seeing me."
"We'll see about that," he replied, producing a small ragged cloth from inside the depth of his pocket.
"Is this...?" she reluctantly unrolled the poorly folded fabric on the palm of her hand.
"For you," Chien-Po said tersely. It was a note from Yao expressing his apology for this big misunderstanding. Whether he had done it under duress or sincere remorse would remain a mystery, but at least he had a good conscience to admit to his crime and ask for forgiveness.
"We have to report him," Chien-Po added, staring at the half-eaten food. Mulan couldn't help but noticed a frown of disdain on his face. It was very much unfitting to the gentle, lighthearted giant in many ways.
While this 'little prank' may have caused Shao temporary defamation or Shang a little argument with Chi Fu, it would cost her her life.
"No," she said, adamantly.
"What?"
"Chien-Po, he apologised!"
"But you'll be…—" he swallowed the word, unable to say it.
"If you do… Chi-Fu is going to execute us both!" she insisted. Of course, there would come a question of why she had falsely admitted to the crime she had never done.
"What is the use of that? Listen, China needs as many defenders as she can get. Don't add to this foolish death."
They traded a brief gaze. And Chien-Po sunk destitutely in his seat, finally accepting the fact that escape was way beyond their reach. Yes, this was unnerving.
"You know what, you can make a better soldier than me," he told her. "There is no way I can beat the Captain the way you do."
Mulan chuckled humorlessly at Chien-Po's attempt to lighten the mood.
"But you also took the arrow from the mast," she reminded him. After her precocious method of employing the weight to her benefit in climbing the mast, others, Chien-Po included, had tried various unconventional methods in taking down the arrow.
"I still can't believe Captain Li actually accepting the fact that I broke the mast instead of climbing it."
"Not many people can do that bare-handedly," she smiled at him. "You will make a fine soldier, Chien-Po," she reassured. "Not just because of your amazing strength, but more importantly because of this…" She took his large hand and placed it above his heart. "Su is lucky to have you."
"I suppose she is," Chien-Po replied with a hopeful smile. They sat in comfortable silence she drank the tea slowly. It was rather thoughtful of Chien-Po to make her favourite braised tofu as her last meal.
"But one thing I'm glad of," he said, breaking the silence. "You don't have to watch me… or any of us…. die on the battlefield. Because I am never good at goodbyes."
Mulan nodded, sitting closer to him, body pressing against his side for warmth. "Neither do I."
Then the reality struck Mulan like a thunderbolt, that she may never see her family again. Her grandmother and her brother. She hadn't even told them a proper goodbye.
And Shang? Would he mourn over her when he learned the unspoken truth of who Ping really was? Or would he be angry, feeling betrayed and insulted? Or he would be thankful to be extricated from this unwanted marriage to an unruly, disobedient wife. Perhaps he would find someone else far more compliant and dutiful than her. But what if he really cared for her more than a bedroom companion or championed chef?
And her surviving father….would this means she destroyed his hope of witnessing her building a happy family?
Guilt assailed her, tugging her heartstring and shredding it to pieces. As disquieting and upsetting the thought was, she had to put on a brave face. There was no use to cry over rice that had turned to porridge.
"Chien-Po, could you…. do me a favour?" she asked, forcing a calm voice. He turned to her, brow furrowed as though he could sense what was coming.
"Please, don't tell my father that I never make it to the battlefield….."
"Mulan….," he pleaded, tears glazing his eyes.
"...And please buried me here, personally…. " Because she wouldn't like anyone else to know the sad story of a girl who had failed to save her family's honour.
By then Chien-Po was sobbing.
"And please keep Ping's true identity a secret from the rest of my family. Can you promise me?"
"Mulan, I can't!" he choked. "Not like this! I can't let your name be lost in time, cursed as a nameless thief and forgotten by those who loved you!"
She stared at him, half disbelief and half angry at the fact he didn't understand the extent of the shame and humiliation she had brought to her family. But how could he? Chien-Po was a man, a man who had never had to conceal his identity in order to do what he thought was right.
She was about to expound a long lecture about her less-than-ideal life, about her husband and her in-law's expectation, and about what her parents' dream of honour when she finally became the wife she ought to be. But the broken look in his eyes made her swallow back those words.
"Chien-Po," she said carefully because she knew this man cared deeply for his friends even beyond the grave. If anything, he just wanted something to remember her by, a commemoration of their short-lived friendship that hopefully would make this sobering pain of loss abate after her departure.
"I much rather die a nameless thief than a woman who had brought disgrace to her family..."
Never in her nightmare she imagined the disappointment and shame if her father knew she died this way, being accused of embezzling the emperor's seal and executed for her fraudulent claim. This wasn't the ideal depiction of how to end her military career would be. This wasn't how she'd pictured her story ended. In her version, she would return home as a filial daughter and an esteemed soldier.
But it seemed that whether she was a woman or a man, she could never bring honour to them all.
Shang returned to his tent not knowing what to do. He threw himself on his bed, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply in order to calm his chaotic mind. But peace was nowhere to be found.
He marched outside, and spent a while hitting the makeshift training post, redirecting the energy and force he exerted, hoping for some of it to siphon his growing frustration—but mostly he felt hollow…. and numb.
If he had dismissed Ping two weeks ago this wouldn't have happened. If he disregarded Shao's order to give Ping a second chance things would've been different.
This may have sounded ridiculous coming out of him, but the event that had transpired today would be imprinted in his memory far deeper than any war he ever fought.
He landed one particular bone-shattering hit, and the fragment of the destroyed training post exploded in the air. "Ping, why does it have to be you?!"
The trees around him gave him no answer.
He paused and looked down to see red all over his training pants. His knuckles bled, but he felt nothing. He was still lost in thoughts, in what-ifs. Had he selfishly chosen his own career and reputation over Ping's life? Should he have swallowed his pride and directly breached Chi-Fu's request?
The image of the frightened Ping flashed across his mind, but more so, he looked…. sad, like a man who had seen his beautiful home burnt up in flames. It was hardly a surprising reaction.
Despite his astronomical clumsiness and his legendary talent for starting a racket, the young soldier's mind was a lot more mature than his age. The boy had shown an admiring show of filial piety to face the war for the sake of his father and his respectable loyalty to die to protect the honour of his family—which, after an unbelievingly crazy detour had come to a satisfying ending. Well, almost…
Then, why ruin it now? He didn't get it.
And why would Ping frame Shao Wei, a man who had graciously trained him? And if his ultimate goal was to hurt the Prince, why took the seal? There was myriad other more ingenious and less risky ways to inflict suffering, pain or even death. And the two were close. Ping had every chance to cause the Prince bodily harm anonymously. To think it simply, a drop of arsenic would do the job and his crime would likely remain untraceable forever.
So what was happening today didn't add up. There must be an explanation for this!
No, Ping can't be executed, he decided. He won't do it—he couldn't.
He didn't care if Chi-Fu or the entire regiment would consider his dalliances to be the most shameful scandal in the millennia. He was so ready to take the blame.
Because guilty or not, if Ping died, he wouldn't be able to live with that.
Altan had never thought she wished to see Shan-Yu, her husband-to-be, that morning. He normally could be easily found inside the training yurt, eating with the other warriors or tending the warhorses, outside in the clearing.
But that morning, he was nowhere to be found, and so was Khurdan, his horse and Anchin, his trustworthy eagle. She knew he wasn't hunting because half of the Huns warriors were also absent from their usual spots.
Where could he be?
Seeing him wasn't particularly a cherished thought, but at least Altan had her peace when she knew he wasn't out there invading cities or burning some villages down.
"They departed early in the morning," Asanthi told her, speaking about her husband's absence.
"Did he tell you where he went?" she asked, unconsciously holding her breath.
Asanthi shook her head. "He went before sunup," she said, stirring the pot of broth over the fire.
"…. And he took his sword with him."
"Fa Ping?"
Ling? Mulan thought, rubbing her eyes oddly with her bound hands. Unbelievingly, she had fallen asleep into a deep sleep on the hay Chien-Po had piled earlier. Exhaustion compounded with a belly full of braised tofu definitely had an uninhibited sedating effect.
"You are awake," the figure said, moving closer. With a startled gasp, Mulan sat upright, eyes blinking rapidly as she soaked the incoming silhouette in disbelief. It wasn't Ling.
"Cap...captain Li?"
Shang stood a few paces in front of her. In his hand were a sack and blanket.
"I figured you must be cold."
Truthfully, Mulan predicted that Shang was going to try to find Ping, after all, Ping was his soldier, and a good leader would care about his people. But she didn't expect Shang to be kind, in fact, she was expecting his angry reproach for bringing shame to his regiment.
"Thank... thank you," she croaked, not knowing what else to say.
He deposited himself next to her, watching her as she twitched uncomfortably.
"I know you didn't do this, Fa Ping." His voice was gentle, very unlike the usual imperious, dictatorial tone he used earlier that day. "Will you tell me what happened?" His eyes begged for a response.
Oh no, not this conversation, her heart pounded sensing the direction where the talk was heading. She had hoped Shang behave like his usual stoic self. She wished he would be furious. Those would have been easier to deal with than this.
"What do you mean, Captain?" She dared herself to look at him, praying to God that she won't lose any composure or inexplicably blurt out any confession.
Shang shifted his gaze to his own clasped hand before turning back on her, this time with a more commanding tone. "Ping, can you tell me why you lied?"