"I…" she breathed.
Mulan considered the prospect. Was she ready for Shang to know the truth? Would he have no qualms about executing her if he knew who she was? No doubt Shang would be furious, that was expected, but even with his wrath, Shang wouldn't be able to kill her.
But what was the option? His option. Perhaps he would send her to prison and divorce her. Her secret would be out there, and she would have to live knowing how she had deceived her husband, dishonoured her family, and shattered their dreams apart. No, she couldn't possibly live like that. Death was a sweet escape.
"If you can tell me, I may be able to help you," he encouraged. But his words of assurance hardly stirred her grieving soul. She wasn't afraid of dying. She was terrified to cause unnecessary torment for people that cared for her―the shame, the humiliation…. the dishonour….
"Now, tell me, why did you lie?" he said again.
"I will tell you why, but you have to promise me," she said tactfully. "After I told you my secret, you must execute me. Right here, right now."
She could tell Shang was trying to maintain his usual collected composure, but the sudden hitch in his breathing had given away a clue. "Ping! You know that I…―"
"I'm not saying another word until you promised!" she stated persistently. "Now. Promise me."
He balled his fist and made an aggravated sound, but there was no anger in his eyes, only frustration and… sadness.
"Look…" he said resignedly. "I...I just don't want to see you die this way."
What she had suspected would lead to an intense interrogation only ended in a conclusive sigh. "And your father…"
"Please don't tell him," she held him firm with her eyes. "It will destroy him."
"Yes, about that," Shang drew his breath slowly, "I traded my place with him. I will represent the Fa family…. I... I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier."
And before she had a chance to process that, Shang continued. "Here, for the journey," he handed hardtack he had packed earlier. "It should be enough for a few days. Your horse is outside, waiting. Don't come back."
She blinked in disbelief. Had he… set her free? On the cost of what? His reputation?… his military career and maybe… his future?
All of her "why" was unspoken but Shang seemed to read it all.
"I've failed you and your sister once," he explained. "And I….―I can't….I can't fail again." Even if it would cost him the world.
She felt like he had just disembowelled her with the world's most beautiful sword. Her composure collapsed and the memories from months back flooded her mind. She used to bitterly resented him―an emotionally crippled man who was unable to grasp the abstract concept of emotion and empathy. She thought he didn't care about her family and her. But now, every day, she discovered a new revelation that Shang wasn't merely the cold and unfeeling man she thought he was. Underneath that steely fortitude and authoritarian expression, he was capable of benevolence and compassion. Shang was a man with kindness, integrity and principle, and she should be proud to call him her husband.
"Here, you drink this. It'll help you to calm down." Mulan felt Shang's sympathetic hand on her shoulder and over her a small canteen from inside the tack. Subsequently, she realised she was drowned in choking sobs.
It is not supposed to turn out like this, not one bit! She scolded herself. A soldier should never cry! She just shook her head in despair, hiding her countenance fearing he may recognise the woman that she was.
Eventually, she restored her breathing and wiped her face ungracefully with her sleeve. "No Captain, I can't," she pushed back the tack into his hands with the remnant of her resolve. Why did she have to witness Shang's soft side right now, at the climactic end of her life? Now was the wrong time and place to fall in love.
He stepped back. "You are as stubborn as your sister," he said, giving her an unimpressed look. "You won't tell me why you lied….and you won't leave. What do you want exactly?" It must have been very confusing for him since he didn't see the full picture.
At least you should tell him how you feel.
"Captain..." she braved himself, knowing that she may never have a chance again because she won't let him do this. She couldn't let him sacrifice everything for her, even when it meant she would have to die a scheming scoundrel. But a loud rattle of the door beat her to it.
"Ping!...Ping!" With that, the door swung open, revealing a heaving man like he'd run a race of his life.
Shang gasped, eyes wide. "Shao...Shao Wei?"
"Did I… interrupt something?" Shao stared at Shang, whose expression grew from startled to disbelief.
Mulan was still trapped in her own shock and not quite believe what had happened.
"I did… did I?" Shao chuckled. Admittedly this lunatic prince couldn't make 'intervening with your Captain's business' thing a new habit.
Shang made a sound of exasperation. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, how many times should I tell you, you shouldn't be here? You should've stayed at Venerable Yen's place! Please go before..―"
"I can't let you execute Ping, can I?" Shao defended, only to notice Khan's curious head peeking from the ventilation hole and a sack full of supplies in Shang's arm. Shang didn't say anything, but his condescending stare did.
"Oh!" Shao breathed, realising his false accusation. "I thought… I mean, Chien-Po never said…"
"I shall handle it from here," Shang said in a commanding tone. "You have to go. Now."
"Ah ok, sure. Good….good plan, Captain," he said, glancing towards her direction before whirling on his heels."I'll...ah. I will take my leave." It's odd to watch Shao Wei exiting and obeying Shang without further argument. Usually, these two territorial creatures would choke each other's throats every time they discussed anything.
Shang's attention returned to her as he picked the tack. But she stayed firm on her resolve.
"I'm not leaving." That stopped Shao on his track.
"You what?" Both men chorused.
"I can't go," she told them. "I won't go."
"You mean you rather...die?" Shao, the verbose one between the two said.
"I mean…―"
"This is insane," he cut her, laughing sarcastically. "You are unbelievable. You know that?" he jerked his head towards Shang, signalling him to give her the pack. "No. Shang is right. You must go."
"I can't let Captain Li take the blame. You know what Chi-Fu is like. If he knew Captain Li release me without consulting him, that would be the end of Captain Li's career," she stated firmly.
"Ping…" Shang was about to voice his argument, but Shao beat him to it.
"Can't you stop being so stubborn? Can't you see? We are just trying to help you!"
"NO!" she snarled back, holding her staunch posture firmly. "I don't want your help! Not from any of you!"
"LISTEN!" Shao barked at her assertion while trying his best not to accidentally articulate the real reason.
Next to him Shang made a fist with his hands, opened and closed them the way he did when he was trying to hold control of his mounting frustration.
"SILENCE, you two!" Shang cut them off.
"NO!" she raged. Why did they behave as if this realm were regulated strictly by powerful men? "Can't you STOP commanding me and telling me what to do?!"
Shao bristled. Her steadfastness could be endearing and annoying in equal measure. He made a march towards Shang, who was still gaping after experiencing Ping's rare outburst. Without a word, Shao yanked the bag out of his hand and stalked towards her with a universal gesture of superiority. "If your prince told you to go, then you go!" He was forcing the bag into her grip, so hard that she nearly stumbled backwards.
"Hey!" Shang was ready to jump to intervene. But Mulan raised her hand to halt him.
"You think you can boss me around because you are a prince!" she snapped back, casting the bag at his feet with gusto. "Well, let me tell you My Lord Highness, this is not a hostage situation. Why should I listen to you?"
Shao's eyes flew open wide. Anger radiated from them. "Because if you don't, I will tell him...everything," he hissed, pointing his finger towards Shang who now looked completely lost.
"I…" that rendered her speechless. Her blood ran cold. Her fear crystallised. She forgot he was holding her card — all of them. The room fell silent.
Shao exhaled slowly, allowing his energy to retreat. "Look," he said with seriousness and despondency she had never seen of him. "You have to go," he repeated, voice no longer escalating. "Don't… don't make me do this. Please. I beg you." Because he didn't enjoy blackmailing her.
Torrents of objections flew on the tip of her tongue, but Shao was one of those who knew her secret. He knew everything… and perhaps more. He understood her situation, her troubles. Was there something he knew that she wasn't that caused him to be so insistent?
Mulan swallowed hard, trying to hold her own feeling of violation. She didn't say anything, but her melancholic gaze towards Shang gave away her unspoken thoughts.
Shao seemed to have caught the battle in her heart, picked up the bag from his feet and handed it to her, gently this time. "I will make sure Captain Li isn't in trouble," he whispered in a low voice to make sure Shang couldn't hear him. "I promise."
Suddenly, the sound of a massive explosion interrupted their exchange. Shout and panic footsteps followed. Shang was the first to run to the door. He briefly assessed the situation before announcing. "We must go. The encampment is under attack!"
Another explosion rattled the ground, followed by a loud 'crack sound'. She heard Shang's shout and Shao's desperate call. She looked up, but it was too late because everything went black.
Mulan walked through the moon gate and into the garden, gazing over the nearby river and rolling hills which she had become familiar with every day of her life.
Since she became a part of Li's household, her life had never been straightforward. Despite the regimented routine and numerous domestic tutorials, she failed to follow even the simplest, most basic instruction.
Mulan let out a deep breath. Despite her mother-in-law's stern guidance, Mulan found unquestionable submission was impossible. It was no wonder Li Yue told her mother that she had a daughter with an attitude problem.
Mulan looked up at the old plum tree in the centre of the garden. Its skeletal limbs waved gently in the wind. That tree had watched her grow up, watching her crawl around eating dirt and bugs, witnessing her first step, her first day at school, her graduation... and then her first day as someone's wife. Since she was small, Mulan knew she was different. But it was the first time in a long time she wondered who she was.
She knew her fate had dictated her to be a wife, a doting daughter who brought honour to her family. But after a few weeks of marriage, she wasn't sure she could accept that destiny anymore.
"It seems like this place is the spot for lost souls lately," proclaimed a raspy, unrefined voice.
Mulan jumped. Her grandmother stood by the entrance of the moon gate, holding a dimmed golden lantern. Despite the lack of speed and plethora of years, the old woman had never failed to surprise.
"Perhaps not lost, but….searching," she added, guiding herself to space under the shadow of the plum tree. "What trouble in your heart, my dear?"
Mulan sat next to her. "I…nothing much Grandma. I am just…" Her sight fell on the little altar with her late mother's photograph perched on it. Fresh incense sticks, perhaps her father's, was there. It's been a long, hard week.
"I miss her too," her grandma said. "We all do. It's only been a couple of days. We're all still grieving."
Suddenly the thought of losing her father dawned upon her. No, she couldn't let him go to war, to his death. But if Shang wasn't going to help her, she had to handle this herself.
"I want to stay here for a while."
"It's getting cold and dark, y'know. You may as well take your blanket if..."
"No, I mean I want to stay with you and Baba for a bit longer."
"You are not returning to the Li?" Her Grandma said disbelievingly. "Are you sure your husband would allow that?"
Mulan shrugged uncaringly.
"Oh. I see…." Grandma Fa nodded sagely. "Let me guess. You're having a problem with him."
She was caught off-guard by her grandma's candidness. "No. No… I am... I just want to take care of you, Baba and Ping." Which she realised was a lame excuse. Everyone knew Grandma Fa's age was just a number. She was an abled woman, just like any other in her twenties would. Even with the departure of her mother, all the housework was still meticulously attended to. Mulan must thank her for inheriting that perpetual vigour and agility.
"Between you and me, I don't think the kitchen stands any chance of not getting burnt," the old woman chuckled. "Now tell me this marital problem of yours, heh?"
Mulan usually jested and broke satirical banter with her Grandma to get her point across, but in the dawn of her mother's passing, the context seemed a little too inappropriate for that. "We are just… just incompatible. We are like water and oil. Impossible to agree on anything," she shared, deflating in her seat. It was only had been weeks since they exchanged their vows, but the crack in their relationship was already showing.
"You think we made the mistake," Grandma Fa met her eyes with a hint of a smile.
Mulan was surprised at her grandma's point-blank forthrightness but tried her best to look unaffected. "I would never question yours and Baba's choosing."
"Of course….Of course, you wouldn't," she said, turning her face to the distant hills. Then she glanced at her from the side of her eyes. "Not on the surface of course."
Mulan didn't know how to reply to that, but she couldn't deny it.
"For someone with a vibrant personality and inner life, you are too concerned about what can only be seen on the outside," her grandma said. "But if you be patient and look deeper, with your heart….you might see something different."
"Are you saying to follow my heart and simply… forget about pleasing everyone?" Mulan said, half disbelief with what her grandmother was suggesting. "But how am I supposed to be bringing honour to our family? To Baba? Isn't that my duty?"
"Ah," the old woman smiled knowingly."You fear disappointing your father."
Mulan exhaled. "Perhaps becoming a wife is not my path…."
"Mulan…" Her grandmother took her by the hand, her eyes searching. "May be yes... may be not. But whatever it is, you are our greatest honour….whether or not you see yourself as a wife… a daughter… or as anyone worthy of it. And your ability to love far outweighs any image of failure you carry in your mind. But you doubt that..."
Mulan said nothing but her knotted brows did.
Her grandma responded with a soft chuckle, releasing her hand. "Since when did you become this serious? Maybe Shang's broodiness was contagious, aye? Look at this," she said, picking up a plum from the tree, biting into its flesh to reveal a dark stone inside. "The plum is soft, easily bruised. But you may see that underneath, it is as strong as you are. It just needs something…. Someone to bring it out."
Impossible! Shang could never be that person, she thought. His refusal to take her father's place jumped to the forefront in her mind; how much he had reduced her. Was that who she was now? A woman who could only beg for her husband's mercy?
She cut her eyes to the side, feeling the slice of disappointment sting through her heart. "I don't need him, Grandma. I don't. I am not weak." She could not prevent her voice to climb with her emotional riot.
"Mulan," said her grandmother's patient voice. "Relying on your husband doesn't make you weak."
"But…" The story was already on the tip of her tongue, but she remembered her father had explicitly told her to keep the news about the conscription to herself in fear of driving the poor old woman to her early grave.
She bit her lips, swallowing the conflicting words and buried them far beneath. "It certainly will be easier if Shang weren't born with a temper," she decided to say.
Instead of returning her somberness with further sobriety, the old woman laughed. "You think your father isn't born with one? You should see what he did to a man who tried to flirt with your mother."
Mulan blinked. "He...What did he do?"
Her grandma's eyes twinkled. A mischievous smile brightened her ageing face."You will have to ask him. It isn't my story to tell."
"Ugh," Mulan pouted, extracting another raspy cackle from the old woman.
"Mulan," her grandma said, running her fingers through Mulan's raven hair. "Do not resent anger. If a good man has anger; it just means he seeks justice in the world," she paused like she was collecting her memory. "You will understand this someday if you allow yourself to see the quality behind his temper."
Mulan was certain, for once, her grandmother was wrong. But she wasn't going to antagonise her grandmother who was in the middle of parting her wisdom, that would be a blatant disrespect.
"How do you know that Shang is a man with good qualities?"
Grandma Fa faked a surprised gasp. "Isn't that obvious?" she said, standing up, rolling her sleeves and doing an imitation of a man showcasing his muscles.
"No. I mean the quality that isn't obvious when he is shirtless," Mulan protested, and her grandmother laughed.
"Dear...dear, I'm sorry. I'm just messing with you," she said, letting her chuckle abate. "The honest answer to your question is: No. I don't."
"You...don't?"
"No. But…" and she plopped herself back to her seat. "I've heard what kind of hard-working young man he is. I've witnessed the level of self-discipline and maturity that he demonstrated. And I've heard of his valiant deeds to the country. Of course, we don't know what he will be like as a husband, but we hope his favourable character extends to his home. Your home."
"Too bad that I'm not a domestic goddess like Mama...who could change..."
"Mulan." Her grandmother frail grasp halted her. "You are a good daughter… " she said, staring right into her eyes. "And someday, you'll make a great woman. Perhaps even better than your mother or I. But I'm not the one you have to convince of that."
"You sound so…. so sure about this," Mulan said, not knowing how to respond. What if she only disappointed her beloved grandmother even further?
"We all have important roles to play and places to fill in this life," Grandma Fa said, looking pensively towards the sky. "And we don't always know why the universe placed us where we are. It took me months and years to understand mine. To comprehend my experiences, good or bad, as I journeyed through life, preparing me for a greater purpose."
Mulan wasn't entirely sure she would be as patient and accepting of that kind of fate, but she stayed reverently quiet.
"And someday, you might find that you must be there to help Shang. You must be there to save him, just as he will save you."
"Grandma…―"
"Ping! Piiiing!"
Something cold and wet brought her from the realm of unconsciousness. "Sober up!" said the voice.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes. A familiar face made it into view. "Wu? W-what, what happened?"
"The Huns are attacking us," he said, looking at their surroundings. The tent where she was detained earlier had collapsed to the ground. Something sharp had snapped the ropes that were holding the structure. Thankfully, whatever had fallen had not crushed her in the process.
"Something must have hit your head," Wu said, accessing a bump on her forehead with his hand. Thankfully it was none of the supporting beams.
She saw Wu had one part of his shoulder cop missing in replacement of a gashing laceration.
"You are injured," Mulan pointed out, looking at the red, angry wound.
"Nah… it's just a bit of a burn. I'll be fine. Fire arrow could be a little nasty thing," he said. "Good thing it didn't land on those things," he glanced towards the cart that was laden with boxes of firecrackers from the celebration when General Li visited them. "It's way too early for celebration," he added dryly. "Anyway, you must go."
Her mind quickly caught up with the train of events. "Where is…?"
"Captain Li is taking the Prince somewhere safe," and subsequently her hearing registered the distant background sound of yelling, and clashing metal interfered by sporadic explosions. Shang must have told Wu to look for her.
"Ping!" Wu tapped her cheek roughly. "Focus!" he gestured to the tree where she could see Khan struggle on his rein that was tied to the tree.
"The gods must be on your side today. Try to stay alive," he said, rummaging through the debris to extract the bag that Shang had packed earlier. "I figured you might need these to defend yourselves," and he threw a sword. "Captain Li said this is a spare one for you."
The sword was old. There were a few marks, and dents but otherwise it was absolutely arresting in details and craftsmanship. The scabbard was etched with leaves patterns and on the hilt engraved a faded singular character, "Honor". Perhaps it was Shang's first sword or a family heirloom; she didn't know. But the gesture of giving Ping his family treasure was more than enough to provide additional sentimental value.
"You can return this to him later. Now get out of here before the Huns flattened this place to the ground," Wu said again, preparing to leave.
"But I….― Wait!" She managed to grab his arm.
"Go now!" he said, shaking off her grip with forced defiance.
"Wait...Where are you going?" she protested.
Wu didn't answer, instead unsheathing his sword. His expression turned hard as he observed the blade in his hand. "Head to the south exit and through the river. It's the safest way out."
"No, let me…"
"Go and don't come back," he told her without meeting her eyes, not wanting her to detect that fleeting moment of despair.
And Mulan was left alone, wondering why she felt at odds with herself.
Mulan found herself standing there, stunned. Wu was right; the gods and the spirit of her ancestor had given her another chance to see the light of day. But how could she run away while her comrades were, literally, marching to their death?
She was entirely sure the Huns were here for the life of the Prince or something else. After all, they'd attempted that once. She looked around and listened. The sound of metal sang in the air and cacophony of battle cries radiated from all sorts of directions. Where should she begin to look? Nonetheless, she did the one thing her intuition told her to do.
The frigid winter air outside began to bite into her skin under her only training robes. Thankfully, without much effort, she managed to scavenge a pair of furry capes, boots and matching hat out of one of the Hun's fallen soldiers.
She took Khan and headed towards the now abandoned stable. She thanked the ancestor when she found Qing, Shang's stallion, still there, albeit in a distressed state. She calmed the beast, rubbed his mane comfortingly and gave him some water before imploringly whispering to him. "Get us to Shang. He needs us," she patted the beast. She hoped Qing's animal instinct would prevail over her human shortcomings.
Scenting the air, the steed led them to the site of the source of the commotion.
"Wait here," she told both beasts, leaving them loosely tied to a tree behind a nearby bush. She crawled forward to observe the extensive clearing in front of her closer.
She squinted, trying to decipher the shapes among the cloud of dust. The Huns were fighting furiously, swinging their weapon with all the ire their fist could dish out. She could see the depleting number of the Chinese army. It was only a matter of time before they would meet their end.
And there she saw it, the Prince of Wei was right in the thick of it. Next to him, Shang defended him valiantly, holding their ground and acting as a human shield. Mulan saw blood running through Shang's sleeve, but Shang didn't care one bit. He stayed focus on the task at hand, like a shepherd warding over his prized flocks from the hungry predator.
Something inside her was burning like an ember. Suddenly her Grandma's words about finding her purpose came vividly to her. She wasn't here to save her own life…..or her family's honour. She was here to defend her country! For the people she loved!
And the fact that the Huns had just scratched Shang's arm on the side just made it personal.
She grabbed her blade (Well, Shang's blade...It did have a nice ring to it). Her brain's cooking a plan.
It would be foolish to come out there alone and hope single-handedly slay a multitude of armed, well-trained Huns warriors. She needed a better plan.
Suddenly she remembered…..
The firework cart.
Shang genuinely thought this would be his last fight. Not that he minded. He had always envisioned dying in battlefield with the last remnant of his comrades.
A sudden rapid explosion was heading towards his direction, followed by random colourful blasts.
From the thickest of the smoke, a pixie-statured Hun warrior riding on a black horse… followed by a white steed. They were charging towards his direction zealously.
Shang grabbed his sword tighter, readying for whatever demise ahead. But as the silhouette approached closer, he recognised the warrior. He was no Huns.
It was Ping!
Mulan watched as the cart behind her sent a series of loud sounds and smoke. The startled Huns horses jumped in surprise and threw most of their riders on the ground. There was a brief moment of panic as numerous beasts became uncontrollable and ran towards the direction against their owner's command.
Her plan had worked.
In retrospect, Mulan considered with a little dismay as she revisited the situation, the Chinese army perhaps would still perish. But even when the plan didn't incapacitate the Huns, it would hopefully give Shang and Shao Wei enough time to slip off the sight of distracted Huns, or so she thought.
But the Huns were determined they won't let their target slip through their fingers and a few had mounted back on their horses.
She urged Khan to catch up. One of the Huns leapt from his horse, trying to dodge her off Khan, but her horse turned away right in time, causing him to fall and trampled on the ground.
From a distance, she saw the unmistakable silhouette of two men riding a stallion. Dozens of Huns with their revived beast were already flocking behind him, aiming their weapon.
No. She wouldn't let that happen.
She took an arrow and began firing towards the Huns who were still in hot pursuit, unwilling to let go of their target. Two men fell, but the rest seemed to disregard her presence and remained focused on the task at hand.
Then, she spotted one that barked orders towards others.
Shan-Yu.
With his fur-covered armour, he looked like a monster that came out from fabled legends.
With one calculative move, Mulan released her arrow, hitting straight on the thigh of Shan-Yu's horse. The beast fell with a tragic cry, but what was important was his passenger could no longer catch up with Shang and Shao Wei.
But her joy in her little victory was very much short-lived. One of the Huns with spiralling snake tattoos on his torso halted his beast and offered it to Shan-Yu. He looked familiar, she thought, but with overly amped brain capacity, she couldn't remember where she had seen him.
As she ran past, the man stared at her for a second before a look of recognition fell on his face. He gesticulated furiously towards her, screaming towards the crowd of Huns on the chase. "Attila!"
The man with the beckoned name gave no rebuttal but immediately detoured his horse and head towards her instead, eyes full of killing intent. Mulan automatically steered Khan away from him.
Seeing his new target flee, Attila reached into his pocket for stones and catapulted them towards Khan's face. The startled beast futilely tried to avoid the incoming projectile and threw his master in the process. She landed face-first. Her mouth tasted the dust.
"I never thought you are the feisty one in your group," Attila jeered, dismounting from his horse, levelling the fight.
He could've landed a lethal assault while she was recovering from the fall, but the young warrior had chosen to honourably waited until his opponent was entirely ready for the duel.
"I take that as a compliment."
Standing up to accept the challenge, Mulan drew her sidearm, brandishing Shang's blade.
This was it, the moment of truth.
Attila jumped forward and attacked her first with his spear. She sidestepped and tried to match his attack by swinging her sword only to miss him completely. He grinned when she tried to thrust the sword again at him. He deflected it with ease, and even managed to disarm her when he swept his weapon with one powerful stroke. Mulan fell on impact, her sword flung in the opposite direction. It was then she realised that the blade in her hand was far too heavy for her to meet her optimum speed.
"Ah, empty-handed now," he sneered, watching a moment of alarm flash in her eyes. "I'll end this quick, I promise."
"I want to see you try," she hissed, remembering the desolate village and the orphaned child the Huns had plundered.
He leapt towards her, aiming his maniacal weapon straight for her neck. She shrieked but managed to roll away last second, fumbling backwards in panic as he repetitively leapt at her, trying to slit her throat.
With each miss Attila was growing impatient, hastening his speed and ferocity as he tried to catch the moment when his opponent's guard would drop.
As Attila thrust his spear forward, Mulan stepped behind him and through a small, brief opening managed to kick the spear out of his grip. They were both weaponless. Now the situation was even, or…. nearly.
Screeching fury at the unexpected defeat, Attila spun in place so he was back in close quarters with her. She tried to escape, running towards the river bank where a few large old wooden boats were left harboured there. They exchanged a few close hand-to-hand combats until he successfully landed a punch on her right chest, his eyes growing wide knowing what he had touched underneath.
"You are a woman!" he seethed.
Mulan unwittingly screeched at the insolent touch. She smacked his hands with equal force, and something around his wrist accidentally snapped on her fingers. One of the charms engraved with Chinese characters rolled on the ground.
"Can't be worse than you―a Chinese man in disguise," she replied, clutching her bosom and recovering from the humiliating encounter.
"I'm a genuine Hun, their warrior's blood is running through my veins," he announced, clearly wasn't concerned about his indecent act.
Mulan shook her head, fascinated with the level of delusion. "Warrior doesn't kill…"
"You think your Chinese compatriots are far more honourable than us? If I didn't kill you I bet they will," he cut her off, throwing a few shurikens from his pockets towards her. She only just managed to block them when she picked up a plank of wood to shield herself. Her distraction gave Attila enough time to run forwards, snatching a stray, old knife that must have belonged to the fisherman of the now-abandoned boats.
He pointed the knife at her, causing her to take a few steps back. "You are quite stubborn for a woman."
"Thank you for the enlightenment, but I won't give up that easily to a traitor," she spat back, holding her fighting stance even though she felt like a cornered animal waiting to be slaughtered. "I wonder what your mother will say if she knew what his son has become."
Her words seemed to hit a nerve. He stopped, lowered his hand, and clenched his jaw as he held his temper, just barely.
"You know nothing about my mother and what those Chinese vermin did to her!" he lashed, eyes narrowed with animosity. "Among all the wicked...vile things they've done…..they should've let her die. But no, they let her live... to carry the shame―the shame of giving birth to a bastard child," he recounted, his disdainful voice now breaking.
She found herself pinned by his stare for a moment, stunned by the brutal honesty of what he had just revealed. The hurt and bitterness were palpable behind the spite that was oozing out like a sulphurous cloud. She couldn't even start to imagine the kind of torture, humiliation and scorn that poor woman had to endure. It was an awakening insight.
"I...I'm so sorry," she breathed, feeling almost like a metaphorical canon was just being aimed at her. And who was she to strife with this man after what her people had done to him? Could she honestly resent his vengefulness and label him a traitor?
"Sorry won't console the dead!" he grounded, regaining his combative ferocity. "But this one will!" He leapt again, bringing down the blade towards her. She rolled away again, and his weapon only cut a harmless rope.
Feeling insulted, Attila darted after her, leaping and bouncing off the part of the ship in an attempt to come at her at every angle.
"Blood won't bring her any peace!" she argued, rolling into the lower deck to avoid being skewered alive.
He didn't respond to that. Instead, charging towards her with renewed determination. If he had been in the right state of mind, he might have heard the cracks and the groan of the moving pole.
But he didn't until it was too late.
A shadow loomed over him. Attila looked up, to see one of the main mast of the ship falling towards him as sure as death itself. But Attila was no coward, he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. His mother's face waited for him behind his lids, her soft smile, her sad eyes, haunting him. I'm sorry, Mother...
"Look out!" A sudden yell filled the air. His eyes snapped open, only to see that only a second before the enormous wooden structure could hit him the woman soldier he tried to kill had shoved him aside, accidentally embedding the knife in his hand into her own flesh.
Mulan heard a slash underneath her before she felt it.
Gasping in pain, she dared herself to look up at him. She wondered how many breaths he would allow her to have before he finished the job.
"You fool!" he seethed, pulling out the knife. But a surprised and horrified expression cascaded through his face. His enemy just saved his life in exchange for hers.
Her body jerked from the sudden white pain that sliced through her being. "Please...Promise me you'll dispose….my body… into t-the river," she managed to say between gasps.
"You think that way you'll die a respectable death? Remembered as a hero?" he spat. But the venom had left his eyes in place of something else she couldn't decipher. He used his knife to cut rags out of his sleeve, binding the material against her abdomen.
And he left her there. Perhaps to die a slow, agonising death…. Or perhaps waiting for his comrade to discover the corpse of the woman that she was. But no, the battle was not over yet, she couldn't die! Not until she was sure the Prince and Shang were safe.
The blood began to pool around her legs, but she refused to look at them. It can be fixed later, she thought.
If there is later.
She heard the world around her buzzed in the distance, noises and various voices melting into the background. Mulan wasn't scared to die; she had just escaped death and didn't have time to even care about it anymore. But she was afraid of her family… her people, and what this war would do to them.
"Ping!" Ling's barely steady, high-pitched voice alerted her. She squinted her eyes, struggling to keep her consciousness intact. In the background, she could hear his rapid yelling and incoherent dissonance.
"Ping...Oh gods!" If it was even possible, his voice trembled and stress line taut his face.
"Ling?" she rasped, staring at him puzzled. "How do you…"
"Find you? A Hun's… he told... " he said, struggling to form a coherent thought. "You're going to be fine. Please, stay with me." There was a strange pleading edge that Mulan had never heard of him before.
"Ling...?" she said, voice almost a whisper. Her question was answered by a piercing pain in her side, from her blurred peripheral vision, she could see a pool of blood forming where she was.
"You are…―" he gulped, unable to continue. "Breathe slowly! The help is on its way!" he repeated, letting his own words console his worry.
Her world went dark for a few seconds before Ling's panic scream brought her back. She suddenly realised the grim reality ahead.
Death had never felt so real, so close and so…. imminent.
"Ling," she said with the vestige of her strength, guiding his hand to the hilt of Shang's sword. "Please give this to my father. Tell him I'm... sorry..."
"No….!" Ling pleaded. "Please don't say that!"
"Listen Ling. I just wanted to say…. thank...thank you." Her voice broke, and she could feel the tears resurfacing. It wouldn't be long before emotion and fatigue consumed her. She had to get this out fast.
"Thank you for always… be…―being there…. for me. Thank you…. for being my friend and...and for protecting my secret. You're like... l-like a brother to me, Ling."
Her thoughts fled to her family, how would they react if they had to face two deaths in the same year? And… Mushu, how she wished she had a chance to thank him for his company during her dark days.
"But, Captain Li Shang…he is comi..―" Ling's voice faded off as tears fell rapidly from his eyes.
She gasped as Ling said his name.
"He is … he is getting help, Mulan." Ling exhaled heavily trying to keep the sob at bay. "The Huns… they-they've left. The Imperial Army came! We are safe! Don't….don't leave us yet," he said, silently wiping away the drops sliding down his cheek with the back of his other hand.
Did he say, the Huns had left?
Mulan smiled. Regrets suddenly evaporated like morning dew under the heat of the sun. There were no words adequate to express the kind of relief that she felt. But there was a closure to be made, a chapter to be closed—before she was gone.
"Ling," she breathed. "Promise me; you'll tell Shang. W-when he comes—will you tell him...that he is always in my mind," she paused to take a breath and gathered her thoughts. "Please tell him to forget about me, to...move on, remarry a-and…. live a...happy life."
Ling's eyes flew open in shock. Connecting the facts and the words she uttered, he finally saw the picture that was concealed before. "He is your…?" he choked.
"Ling..." her voice brought him back. "P-please?."
The man in front of her seemed to wilt with every word she uttered, desperately trying to hold his resolve and composure to remain steadfast. Mulan forced herself to keep staring at him. She must extract that promise out of him!
"Mulan…." With a shaking hand, he lunged forward and hugged her. The walls were merging together; her eyelids become heavy. She gripped his shirt weakly and tried to speak, coughing on air instead. The shooting pain was making her feel more lethargic.
"I'm…. —" Her voice cracked and her teeth chattered at the inability to say goodbye. "..sorry, Ling."
Soon, the edges of her vision were starting to darken. She readied herself for the end.
Mulan didn't exactly know what happened after that. Her consciousness seemed to slip in and out of oblivion.
The next thing she felt was warm, calloused hands scooping her off the ground and trapping it between his hands and the metallic surface of his armour.
Opening her eyes, Mulan was surrounded by a gleam of white. The air was thick with herbally, antiseptic odour. The sounds of clanging metal armour and battle cry were replaced by subdued conversations, rustling fabric and worried stare.
"Ping," said the soft baritone from directly above her. Even with her blurred vision, she could well recognise his profile—his sharp, chiselled jaw, and his firm but warm voice.
Even though she was momentarily distracted by the hard muscle, she could still feel the steady staccato of his heart as her hand moved with the rises and falls of his chest.
"Captain…?" she uttered weakly. And if she were to die, right here, right now, she would die contented in the cradle of his arms.
"It's ok. We've got you," he said, placing her carefully on the infirmary bed.
It's only meant to be a statement of assurance, Mulan got that. But when she looked up to meet his eyes….she saw sympathy and earnestness, and at that moment it feels like something more. Something like support and protection…..and maybe intimacy.
As if it was magic, his touch calmed her and, more importantly, returned her breathing to something that was considered more normal. His voice was like life that drew her out of her unconscious state, amplifying her will to survive.
From her peripheral vision, Mulan could see Ling, Chien-Po and two men, one with silvery hair, a pointed hat in grey robes which she suspected must be the healer. He had a polite smile on his face, the one he plastered on in front of the patients that masked concern. The healer said something to Shang in hushed tones before returning to his medical bag to mix some concoction. For a few contemplative moments, Mulan wondered whether Ling had relayed her last message, but the lack of questioning look nor perusal on Shang's side confirmed that Ling hadn't told him anything. Not yet.
"This is going to hurt," the healer said, as though preparing her mental. Well, everything already hurts, Mulan thought ruefully. Shang must have sensed her unspoken fear and come to the rescue. Again.
"I am here." With unconscious thought, Shang began rubbing his idle thumbs across her cheeks as though wishing the gesture would lessen her anxiety. The fact that he was only smearing the blood on one of her cheeks and getting more on his fingers never crossed his mind.
"The weapon was old and corroded to the point that part of it disintegrated," announced the healer. "I will try my best to remove any unwanted residue and prevent further infection."
Large hands crossed her field of vision where she was staring.
"Sorry," Chien-Po whispered as he began tearing the abdominal part of her clothing for access.
Mulan knew exactly what and why he was apologizing, but faced with no other alternative, she could only capitulate quietly, hoping that Shang was too distracted to even register what he saw―That there was never be Ping, only a daughter with a mission to prevent her father from dying.
"Get me hot water," the healer said. Both soldiers left the surgical area in what could only be described as a scurrying fashion.
A new wave of pain distracted her attention. The healer was cleaning the abused skin around the stab wound. It looked red and angry.
"Here, hold my hand," comforted Shang. And his clench on her hand tightened, and the touch brought her back after her momentary zoning out.
"Thank you," her tone obviously alluding to what happened not a minute ago.
The healer was occupied inspecting numerous surgical tools on his tray. He gave no read into his emotions, only muttering a solemn discussion with another man that Mulan concluded as his assistant. His associate quietly relayed information, barely speaking above a whisper towards Shang. Shang's facial expression gave no sign of anything out of the ordinary, but the slight tightening of his jaw betrayed that.
After another moment into a secretive discussion, Shang returned to her bedside, pulling something from under his pocket-a bottle of strong drink, and offered it to her. "This will help you."
Mulan was too weak to argue, but Shang could see it just by decrypting the questioning frown between her brows.
"You trust me, right?"
Shang held in his chuckle as he saw Ping suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at him. What did he expect? She didn't really have another option now, did she?
He propped her against his chest, slowly helping her to drink, before tearing a piece of his red cape and placing it into her mouth. "You can shout, crush my hand, punch me if that helps," he said again.
That was when it became real. She was a casualty of war, bleeding profusely after enduring the enemy's assault.
She could feel his body tensed, as though bracing for impact… and then the pain came piercing, suspending her from her thoughts. The surgical blade excavated deeper into her flesh, making a neat incision to uncover whatever was left of the weapon that embedded itself into her abdomen.
Mulan felt her vision darken once again and her own roar filled her ears as whatever the healer was doing on her wound, she desperately squeezed and tugged for Shang's hand to channel the pain.
And then everything went black once again.
The battle seemed to end as soon as it started, even then they'd lost nearly a third of their men. There would've been more severe damage if it wasn't for Ping who managed to incapacitate Shan Yu's steed and bought them more time to escape.
Whether it was down to luck or not, the Imperial Guard's timely arrival had managed to make up for the regiment's lack of real battle experience.
Ultimately, it was Princess Altan's sudden appearance on the scene with her troops that forced the rest of the Huns army to retreat home. She had bravely put a blade on her own throat, urging Shan-Yu to adhere to her request to let them go. But Shan-Yu was no fool, he wasn't afraid of losing his bride. Her proposal was rejected point-blank. It was then she upped her offer and surrendered her right as the heir to the throne. It was an expensive offer. She had promised him a place of absolute control over the future of her land and her people….and her fate. It was a foolish...careless and unnecessary sacrifice, in Shang's opinion.
Don't be such a hypocrite, you wish you could do the same, but you are lacking courage… said the voice in his head.
Looking down, Shang stared at his hands that were still bathed in blood: Ping's blood mixed with his own.
This is insane, he thought to himself, knowing that he should not be there that second, living and breathing. Not after he was surrounded by hundreds of fully armed Huns warriors with no feasible plan of escape. Lucky was such an overstatement. And if it wasn't because of Ping...
He heard Ping groaning softly as the effect of the drugs began to wear off. Outside, Shao was speaking with a few healers fetched from a few nearby villages to assist the injured.
Shang could tell Ping's agony, but the soldier had regained his resolve to survive the ordeal. A blade may have paralysed him, but nothing would kill his warrior-fighting spirit.
The only thing Shang could do was keep his hold on Ping and remind the boy that he would be okay…. and that he wasn't alone, a comfort he wished he had had himself many times over.
After an hour that felt like forever, the hubbub around the medical tent dwindled into peaceful hushed tones. At the sound of rustling fabric, Shang turned his attention towards the tent's entrance.
Shao stepped in.
"How is he?" He was trying to sound composed, but biting the bottom of his lips had spoken otherwise.
"Stable but the critical moment is still ahead of him," replied Shang. "He lost a lot of blood. Part of the dagger was broken inside his abdomen. The healers had done everything they could."
Shao Wei balled his fist and strings of profanities flew from his mouth. "It should've been me!"
That was a quick reminder of the unusual closeness between Ping and the Prince. It was when the ugly, green jealousy began to bloom on his chest. He couldn't disregard his sixth instinct that alerted him there was more to their relationship than merely just casual friends. At least from one of them, it wasn't.
But why would he care? Was he mind if one of his soldiers had landed in the spotlight and made it into the Prince's favourite list? Or was he jealous knowing this unlikely hero had found shelter and comfort with a man other than himself?
Shang remembered his father's wise counsel, that even seasoned warriors could be drawn in by a beautiful face; lose themselves in delicate limbs, silky skin and sheets of ink-black hair.
No, Shang was determined not to fall into the same trap. Besides, Di Tan had cleverly explained the logical reason for his extreme possessiveness around Ping.
"Thank you for your prompt help in providing the best care he could possibly get," Shang said, mastering his inappropriate impulse. "You have saved his life." He placed his hand on Shao's shoulder, a gesture of gratitude and comfort.
"He saved us," Shao exhaled slowly, allowing his wave of emotion to dwindle. And they thought they were the ones who could save Ping from the execution. "If...if he dies, I would..."
"But Fa Ping is a strong soldier," Shang soothed. "He'll be alright."
"Yes, yes….of course," Shao nodded, smiled past him and looked into his own hands. "Sometimes I forget, Ping had just defeated dozens of Huns."
The moments of battle flashed in Shang's eyes, and suddenly curiosity peaked in his head. "Although, I didn't know Ping have mastered the art of aiming moving targets on horseback in a short period of time."
Shao chuckled. "That clumsy boy can be an instant genius at times. He is indeed a fast learner. Although, I strongly believe… the main reason he could do it that particular instances were because…" He paused and regarded him with his eyes. "...because he was so desperate to save you."
Saving me? Shang almost wanted to verbalise his disbelief, but he figured that was out of his usual performative and cold character to question such petty points.
They turned his attention back to the half-conscious Fa Ping. But before any of them could get in a word, a barrage of voices got louder outside their fabric barrier.
"Captain Li," the man saluted.
"Chef Zhang," Shang returned the gesture. The man looked distressed, face as white as a ghost. "We were… cleaning up the debris outside, and we… we found this," he said, handing in what Shang recognised as his bag.
"Thank you." Although Shang had no real attachment to worldly possession, he was glad his personal paraphernalia wasn't perished in the fire or been trampled by horses.
The old man still stood there as if waiting for something.
"Yes?" Shang raised his brows at him.
"Captain… you may. You may wish to check what's inside," he said, sounding oddly disquieted.
Shang didn't need a second take and immediately tore into his bag. An unfamiliar object rolled out to the floor.
It was the stolen Emperor's seal.