Li Jiang and Princess Wei Ting set off to the Huns territory the following day, before the sunup. Zetian, although she decidedly left soon after, looked particularly disquieted as she bid them goodbye and headed back to Chang'an.
The farther north they ventured the colder it was. Three days along and it was nearly unbearable. Li Jiang sat on the perch, wrapped in layers of clothes, occasionally attempting to drift into a state of meditation in order to conserve heat and stave off the negative thought about the fate of his battalion which was facing the Huns without him. Their horses, which were trained war stallions, were capable of walking safely within reason without constant supervision.
Except for the first day when she arrived, Princess Wei Ting seemed disinterested in any form of human interaction. She rarely ventured outside the cabin unless the campfire was fully ablaze. She would step out of her carriage carrying her food ration and eat quietly by the fire until the warmth seemed to replenish her. She spent the majority of her time wrapped in a nest of cashmere blankets, writing her journal or gazing at the stars from her cabin window. She seemed to have her life pressed out of her by some weighty force in her heart, reminding him of how Xia was when she lived in the Harem.
One evening, however, she stepped out of the carriage looking particularly dreadful and Jiang couldn't stop himself to ask.
"Good evening, Princess."
"And to you, General Li," she said. As usual, she was polite but unresponsive. Quietly, she watched the fire and the light in her eyes started to fade.
"Princess, may I…?"
She looked at him, startled out of her reverie. "Yes?"
"Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Y..yes, General. Thank…. thank you," she replied, almost like a cat in thundery-night.
He poured her tea, and delicately placed the ceramic in her hand as she thanked him. Normally, their conversation would end there, but suddenly imagining another night of awful malaise felt too much for him. This voyage had been unbearably depressing with war, death and uncertainty hanging above their heads, and having mere comforting words from another human being would mean a lot!
"I don't think we ever properly speak to each other in court," he began. "So… if I may be so bold…" He clasped his hand, saluting her. "I'm Li Jiang, the Commander of the First Battalion, at your service."
"Pleased to be in your presence, General Li," she said, now searching for familiarity on his face. "You are one of my brother's mentors. Are you not?"
"Armory and self-defence. Yes."
"I recalled your jet black hair and big man bun," she gazed at his slightly silvering hair and receding hairline.
"Unfortunately the plus point of still having hair, My Princess," he said, attempting to break the ice with humour. "My wife said old men are like wine. The older the better."
She let out a little chuckle. Her mood seemed to be lighter. "Wise words, General. But I really haven't seen much of you as much as I heard about you."
"Socialising isn't really my forte, Your Highness," he admitted.
"Well, I guess if you have to face death on a daily basis, socialising isn't exactly a primary prerequisite to be added to your list of skills, is it not?" she said good-naturedly.
"Rightly so, Princess." He was quiet for a moment thinking of what else appropriate to say. He gazed at the dark, starless sky.
"Unfortunately we'll be stuck here until the blizzard is over."
The tension on her shoulder seemed to be lifted and she looked relieved at the news. "I don't mind a little delay." A comfortable silence stretched between them.
"Speaking of which. Do you have any games?" he offered. It would definitely help to take his and her mind off things.
"Games?" she said, slightly bewildered at the unexpectedness of his request.
"Yes. Any games will do."
She frowned and he sensed her hesitation.
"My apology to put you on the spot, Princess, forgive me for being too bold." And he was about to excuse himself to return to his sleeping spot when she reached out to him, grabbing him by his shoulder.
"No, please. I have mahjong… But we must play inside the carriage."
They played mah-jong in relative silence.
"Your move, Princess."
"You may call me Ting Ting," she said, staring at the board.
He smiled at this unexpected trust. "Your move, Ting Ting."
She studied the board before picking a piece of tiles. Li Jiang observed her. She was such a dainty little thing. A single jade dragon sat among a pile of ornate gold flowers curled across the large contraption on her head. Her pale hands were as smooth as ceramics, indicating they had seen very little sun nor the heaviness of house chores. She seemed like a fragile doll cocooned in layers of silk hanfu and cashmere blankets. Now, he could understand why Prince Shao Wei fiercely objected to Khan's wedding proposal. How would such a delicate thing survive the rough way the Mongols live? Perhaps she won't last even one winter!
Li Jiang was about to take a generous sip of his soup when he saw the Princess' dinner had been left untouched. He couldn't blame her. Stale, half-frozen mung bean bread three days in a row was a challenge for ordinary citizens, let alone a princess.
"Soup?" He offered her his bowl that he hadn't touched. "Nourishment will help you think." She hesitated, but the low rumbling noise from underneath made an undisputable decision for her.
"Thank… thank you."
He continued studying her as she delicately sipped the soup he made.
"You make quite a good soup, General Li," she praised, making a quiet but unmistakably satisfied noise.
"Thank you. Should there be an ingredient, I can serve you with something far more delectable and suitable for a princess than a radish soup."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Nah, General. This is a feast considering we are in the wilderness."
When the time was right and he felt like he got the perfect moment to ask her. "Did Princess Zetian force you to do this?"
"No," she said with a sigh, her eyes growing distant. "It was…" she swallowed, hands trembling as she moved the tile. "I... told her to take me."
Li Jiang sighed. He might not be the most perceptive with women, but he knew a lie when he heard one. "Ting Ting, no one should force you to…"
"No one forced me!" she snapped, suddenly losing interest in the games. "I think… I think I will go to bed early, General."
She bent to excavate large leather tomes out of her suitcase, perhaps heartwarming stories that would take her mind of the doom reality that hung above her head. Behind her, Li Jiang caught the glimpse of the well-used calligraphy set and half-written parchment. Taking a closer look he realised that it wasn't a journal, it was a letter―a melancholic note to some elusive lover. Li Jiang longed to ask after those in particular, but he did not.
"Good night," Li Jiang stood and bowed. "I thank you for the company and the game."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, which had taken their usual despondent quality. She closed the door with a muted click but did not shut her curtain. With a sinking feeling, Li Jiang watched as the Princess returned to that dark, oppressive place.
The next night Li Jiang didn't waste any opportunity to initiate his intention to talk to her. With a bowl of radish soup in his hand, he rapped the door of the carriage.
"You don't have to do this for me every night, General," she accepted the bowl gratefully and invited him in.
Li Jiang took his chance. "Do you enjoy stories?"
Ting Ting tilted her head, baffled. "I saw you have a few volumes of those," he pointed out the large leather tome next to her stack of trinkets.
"Oh," she grabbed one of them, showing it to him. "Romance of the Three Kingdom. Sappy I know. But I liked it."
"Then you might enjoy reading this." He produced a tattered volume from underneath his coat. "It's a romance tragedy, the kind that would make you sad and happy at the same time."
"Is it… yours?" Ting Ting said incredulously. "I mean, no offence, General Li. Men normally prefer non-fiction books."
"True," he admitted, surprisingly intrigued with astute observation now she pointed it out. "But this is an exception. This was... a gift."
"Oh," Ting Ting looked down at the vintage tome, eyes growing curious. "Are you sure about this, General? I mean... this must be such a treasure to you that you take it...everywhere," she said, puzzlement still written all over her face.
"I want Shang to have it. But, I don't think he would appreciate it just yet, so… perhaps you could have it for safekeeping meanwhile? I think your chance of staying alive is slightly higher than mine," he joked.
She chuckled, accepting the volume with care. "No. I much rather settle this with equally esteemed possession, fair and square." Instinctively, she pulled a ring out of her finger. It was a large jade ring with a golden dragon meticulously carved around it. On its mouth carried a silver coin with a symbol of the monarch. "Here, you have this."
Li Jiang stared at the gift and shook his head rapidly. "Ack... no. That's... I can't. It's a precious piece of jewellery, Ting Ting. It's your family heirloom. Your inheritance. I can't have it." He cleared his throat. "Besides, Shang said rings don't look good on me. Fat fingers."
She pretended to be insulted. "Are you comparing my exquisite fashion preference to Captain Li's insipid taste?" and tsked. "No offence, General. From what I heard, your son knows the anatomy of a sword far better than a woman's body. Not to mention acting a bit like celibacy enforcement patrol to those poor men. And he was supposed to sell the idea of soldiering as a lifetime career..."
"Marketing is not Shang's strongest point," he said, rubbing his temple towards the receding hairline.
"So take this." She grabbed his hand and placed the ring into his palm. "It's the least you can do for me."
"Ok fine," he relented, vaguely trying to put it on one of his fingers. It managed to squeeze halfway through his little pinkie although barely. Satisfied with the way it sat, he waved his hand towards her unabashedly.
"Nice," Ting Ting complimented. "I wasn't wrong then. It definitely suits your personality."
It almost soon became the ritual during their travelling journey, to close the day with a chapter from the 'Romance of Three Kingdoms. Normally, Ting Ting would read the chapter out loud while Li Jiang made their dinner and commented from time to time.
"Brothers are like limbs, wives and children are like clothing. Torn clothing can be repaired; how can broken limbs be mended?" Ting Ting read the final rhetoric of the chapter.
"Well... depends on what kind of brother you have," Li Jiang said, cutting the ginseng roots he managed to forage earlier.
"You have a few?"
"Six. I'm the youngest." Li Jiang replied, still focusing on his cooking, "You don't want to know the kind of battle around the dinner table." Ting Ting smiled, drawing the situation in her head.
"You are close to your brother too, are you not?"
"Indeed," she smiled, closing the book. "How crazily spoilt, promiscuous gambler that he is, I still loved him."
"He was cute as hell as a kid."
"I bet he was."
"Then, why did you suddenly...leave him? I mean...You came here without his knowledge, right?"
Ting Ting shut her eyes. "Zetian came to my room one night," she began. "She told me she knew brother Shao had been long conspiring with the Huns Princess to seize the throne. At first... I was trying to cover for him. This is exactly why he faked my death—to buy him time. He knew it was very risky to do the job himself, so he joined Wuzong encampment in order to recruit and train someone who could do the job for him. He told me he found someone skilled and trustworthy… "
"...and I suppose, princess Altan was to kill the Emperor in return?"
"A man with most creative malice, don't you think?" Ting Ting sunk into her seat, pulling her blanket close to her chest. "No one will ever suspect." And sighed, looking at the distant horizon. "He said, this is the only way they could eradicate the generation of leaders who hated each other. And hopefully someday….there will be peace when they both risen as monarchy." She paused and said in a small voice. "Zetian called it cowardice."
"Well, I'd like to call it strategy," Li Jiang said thoughtfully, turning the ember to keep the fire going.
"She was…. angry, of course. I mean… if you see your father conspicuously favoured his ungrateful nephew and overlook all his flaws, you have a right to be angry! But perhaps… perhaps at the beginning she wanted to drag me back into this knowing Shao loves me and sending me here would be just the thing that killed him, but..."
"But?"
Ting Ting bit her lips. "At the end...she told me if I wasn't willing to go, then she would. And I...," Ting Ting's voice faltered.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Li Jiang said patiently.
Ting Ting bit her lips, shaking her head. "As much as I hate the idea of living as a concubine in a foreign country, I never wish such a fate on anyone! And yes, the Emperor has the best healers taking care of him, but who knows what the future holds? If anything happened to him, Zetian would have to shoulder a big responsibility until the time we officiate the new emperor to the throne. I...I can't let her carry this burden."
Li Jiang rubbed his bread, Zetian had always been the most sensitive and selfless of the princesses. She was wise and kind, and if it weren't because of her gender, she would make an excellent candidate as an Empress without being espoused to an Emperor.
"Zetian said she intercept the letter from Altan for your brother. What did Altan's letter say exactly?" Li Jiang asked curiously.
"She was begging brother Shao to spare her father… and her future husband, Shan-Yu," Ting Ting narrated. "Which doesn't make sense. Altan loathed that old swine."
Li Jiang coughed at Princess Wei Ting's language selection. She ignored him.
"Do you think Princess Altan knew the future arrangement between Zetian and your brother? I mean, that isn't exactly a secret, is it not?"
Ting Ting shook her head. "Knowing brother Shao, I'm not sure he'll be totally honest with her. I guess she must have found it out herself."
That was not a surprise for a playboy prince with magnetic charms. Combined with his mercurial habit of seducing anyone with breasts, it would be stupid for any woman to trust him—not that Li Jiang would comment about Shao's promiscuity out loud in front of his sister.
Ting Ting snorted. "Last week Brother Shao just told me that Father had been keeping us in the dark about our mother's origin. Who might have thought that Shao and I are half Huns? Political outcast no less." She let out a sardonic chuckle. "All these years, he had been keeping it from us! And the entire nation! And that's not the most shocking thing."
"What is?"
"He implied that Uncle Xiongnu was romantically involved with our mother and Father deliberately took her as a wife in order to make him jealous!" she groaned.
"He was young, Ting Ting."
"He was being ridiculous, General Li! If he had an ounce of regret for what he did, he would at least have the decency to tell us his children!"
"We all have some selfish motives we couldn't share with others," Li Jang said without letting out too much. "But...I still can't imagine your brother and Zetian, though. Married, I mean. They are like… fire and water. But who knows, maybe given time they'll resolve their differences."
Ting Ting let out a laugh. "They've been punching each other's noses since they were in diapers. I doubt that's going to change anytime soon." And she fell silent, eyes tracing the distant star that danced above the horizon. Li Jiang handed her a bowl of soup.
"Wouldn't this life be a lot simpler if we all are allowed to marry for love?" Ting Ting said pensively as she cradled her bowl.
"You think?" Li Jiang tipped the soup into his mouth in one go.
"But I hate to think what kind of vain bimbo my brother ended up marrying knowing the outset," she shuddered. "God forbid General Li, China will have a wench for an Empress!"
Li Jiang tried to repress a grin at Ting Ting's wild imagination.
"Unfortunately, sometimes we have one chance in love… but we fail to see it," he said. "Does he know you are on this secret mission?"
"He? Who?"
"Ah, I'm sure you know who," he smiled knowingly.
She gasped and blushed. "You… you knew?"
Of course, I was in love before, he wanted to say, but instead, he just paid her a sympathetic smile. "A man, although not often, can be perceptive."
"I'm most impressed!"
Li Jiang acknowledged her praise. "So, who is this...charming lad?"
"Ling. His name is… Ling." She blinked and took a deep breath to calm the wave of emotion that was burning her chest. "He is an incredible man. He is humble… long-suffering… kind, have a great sense of humour," she smiled soberly. "He… he is a good man."
Li Jiang exhaled. He doubt Ting Ting would stand any chance of assassinating the Khan. She was unequipped physically and mentally for such a task. For heaven's sake, the girl couldn't even defend herself against the cold! So it was down to him as her bodyguard. But what if he was unsuccessful in this mission? No, he won't allow that. But any mission—even the trivial ones—would bear the possibility of failure. And it was up to him to tactfully assess whether the wager was worth the risk. A week ago, this decision would be a lot easier, when this princess was merely a faceless title known to him. But now, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her as a prisoner in a foreign land, fated to endure any kind of horrible abuse and torture worse than death!
"Ting Ting, I think we must reconsider our plan..."
"No," she told him resolutely. "There is enough innocent blood being shed as it is." She turned to him, looking at him square in the eyes. "I've made my decision!"
He was taken aback, not expecting such a fiery temper from someone who a minute ago appeared so small and helpless. But no, he couldn't ever leave her in the same situation as he and Xia had been, even when it meant being selfish. "But if both of us are unable to end him..." and undoubtfully the Khan would then end him. "You can face something more horrific than death, alone."
"Brother Shao was wrong to withhold me from the marriage. A promise between two nations is a promise to be kept. And my feelings and preferences are not up for his consideration."
Li Jiang pressed his lips, heart lurching in his chest. She was ready to leave her loved ones and everything familiar to her behind to live in a godforsaken world among barbarians. How could he let this happen? She was just sixteen! She was merely a child!
"Ting Ting, I admire your courage. But even with your sacrifice, there is no guarantee we can bring these two nations together. Have you not heard? Peace requires just as much strength as war. Will you be ready to defend it?"
She tore her eyes off him and sighed. "I might not be a warrior, General Li. And I might not be eloquent in sword fighting. But that doesn't mean I can't do anything for our country…." And she reached his hand, and eyed him imploringly. "Even if I fail, this might be the only thing I can do. And...the only way. So please... let me."
The next day the blizzard was gone. The campsite was quiet. Li Jiang decided to get started tacking up the horses to continue their journey north. By now, the daylight hours were so few and there was no time to waste. He stood up, trying not to overthink the scenario of meeting the Great Khan in his head. He gathered the tackle from the sliding compartment beneath the carriage and carried it to the tree where the horses were hitched.
The horses were gone.
Sharp whistles from the woods.
Arrows.
Li-Jiang faced them head-on, deflecting them quite easily. Another barrage came, and behind them, six men on horseback. Bandits. He squinted his eyes. How could bandits go to such a beaten track? Had they followed him all this time?
Ting Ting opened the door. "General Li, what's going…?" an arrow impaled the door and she shrieked.
"Stay inside!" he commanded, kicking the door closed as he deflected another arrowhead straight to her face. He ran behind the nearby tree, analysing the situation. Okay, he thought, six criminals on the horseback with arrows, not too hard. He grabbed his trusted sword, getting ready to equate their attack with the defensive blow when he heard another whistle.
More arrows, twelve guys on the horseback.
Okay, this would be a bit harder.
Li-Jang said a brief prayer to his ancestor, steeled his heart, and prepared to kick some ass.
Once everyone was out of sight, Mulan cast her eyes towards the horizon where the thousand tiny specks charging in their direction. The Huns were coming, fast. Tung Shao pass could well be their grave.
"Ping, I want you to listen to me," Shang said softly. His tone was so different from when he addressed her in front of the group. This one sounded personal. Intimate even.
Mulan tried not to meet his eyes as she listened to him. The thought of him dying without knowing the truth hurt her. But she had no chance or way of explaining things. Not now. What benefit would it give him knowing he and his wife were on the road to a suicide mission together?
"I will not let you die," he told her. "Even when that kills me."
Her heart ached and swelled at the same time. Those words were far sweeter than the marriage vow he had said to her, mostly because this time, she knew he meant every word.
She forced a loud huff, forced herself to push her emotion aside. Once she gained her composure, she told him her plan. He didn't seem at all convinced it would work, but he trusted her judgement.
"I'll aim for the tip of the snowy mountain. Hopefully, it'll create enough avalanches to stop them. We've got only one chance," Mulan said, holding the explosive in her hand.
"I go up there and try to distract Shan-Yu and his army so you can buy a bit of time," Shang told her before running ahead.
Mulan nodded as she prepared the last ammunition and dragged it on the thick snow. When she was sure Shang wasn't looking, she stole one final glance at his retreating form.
Her grandma was right all along, Shang was a good man. Standing on the battlefield with him made her realise how many times Shang had chosen to confront death to save others. He was a man of duty before anything else, and always put the needs of the country before his own. While his martyr complex could be downright annoying, it was also the very thing she loved about him.
Mulan planted the missile on the snow, aiming at the peak of the rugged snowy peaks, but she couldn't find her matches anywhere. Panic and fear began to swallow her whole, her hand began to sweat.
"Mulan!" came Mushu's terrified voice from behind her ears. He too, immediately saw the problem. "Oh, my giddy aunt! No match?! We are dead…! WE ARE DE... Ack!" he choked when he saw dozen of arrows head their way. Mulan ducked instinctively. In that moment of blunder, he coughed, creating a spark of flame. It gave Mulan an idea.
"Mushu, breathe on this!" She grabbed him by the tail, ignoring Mushu's violent protest of her rather disrespectful treatment.
And then she saw it. Before she solved her first problem, the second was rapidly approaching. Shan Yu, racing zealously on his horse, was charging towards her like an angry bull.
"Dang," Mulan muttered under her breath.
"Seems like he isn't as thick as we thought," Mushu commented. Mulan bit her lip. It was another miscalculation that having Shang in front of her would draw Shan-Yu's attention from the real threat. Shan-Yu ignored their bait and left his army to deal with Shang, allowing him to pursue her instead.
"I'll take care of this!" Mushu yelled, frantically breathing his fire harder in the hope the explosive would ignite faster. Mulan's mind was running on overdrive that she was rendered incapacitated to even thank him or to process what had happened.
"Your welcome," Mushu said, grinning when he saw the cannon headed straight to the tip of the icy mountain, triggering an avalanche. "Now you go get him, Girl!"
Now she had to borrow sometimes to let the snow slide their way, and for that, she had to face the inevitable—to fight Shan Yu.
Looking up, she saw a glimpse of Shang in front of her. He was engaged in his own battle. Even though holding his ground, Mulan could see his distressed face the way she had never seen before. Imminent death, it seemed, had its way of changing people.
The leader of Huns warriors charged closer, waving his sword that could end the life of his unsuspecting victim with one sure, swift and well-calculated move.
That moment Mulan knew. There was only one way out of this—to kill or to be killed.
Could she kill?
"Piiiing!" It was Shang's desperate cry that brought her back to reality. Their eyes met and she could see the conflict evident in his eyes. He was terrified. Not his own life, but for hers.
She looked back at the imminent threat in front of her. Would she just stand there and let this Hun warrior slaughter her in front of her captain? No, not without a fight.
She saw him hurry towards her. Behind him, a wave of avalanche charged towards them furiously. What chance did she have of surviving both?
"I can handle this Captain!" she shouted back, trying to reassure him.
But how could she fight a man like Shan Yu? He was almost ten times larger than she was, no doubt far stronger and even a more experienced fighter. Insecurity crawled up her skin and made her feel like she was in a place she shouldn't be in and Her hand trembled as she touched the hilt of her sword.
I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. She repeated in her head until her shoulders straightened and she walked as she believed it.
Shoving her sentiment aside, she rushed forward, closing the gap between her and her adversary.
"You shall die!" exclaimed Shan Yu, as he swung his mighty blade. Seeing his enemy towering over her like this, she felt some of her confidence falter and her courage shake.
Mulan, true warrior never quits.
With confidence renewed, Mulan brandished her sword, "Then, it'll be my honour to take you with me!
The pain blossoming in her chest wasn't metaphorical this time. Mulan placed her hand to assuage the paralyzing pain from taking a stronghold of her movement, just to notice her bloodstained palms and metal armour.
"Mulan… MULAN! Open your eyes!"
"Mushu?" she groaned. "What… what's happened?"
"You… you don't remember? Man, he must have hit your head pretty hard. You managed to poke that brute in the eye and..—Wait, what's that? Is that blood? Mulan! You… you are bleeding!"
"I know," she struggled. She had a brief flashback on how she managed to steal an attack and blinded Shan-Yu with her sword before the avalanche claimed him. Sure, she did a number on him, but he had scored too.
"I'll manage."
"Hold on tight!" Mushu pressed the rein to her palm tighter.
Bleeding and clinging precariously on the back of her steed, who was fighting his way through the thick blanket of snow were indeed a very bad combo.
"Thank you, you two," she whispered. She grabbed the reins, wincing as she straightened herself to get a better view of the endless white in front of her. Shan-Yu was nowhere to be seen. But something else on her peripheral caught her attention. No, it wasn't the numerous Huns that had been swallowed by snow or numerous others that tried desperately to escape. Among all the chaotic spectacle she managed to spot Shang, lying listless on the snow while ahead, the second wave of avalanche charging furiously before them.
"Shang!" Her warrior instinct left her and she became his wife again all of a sudden. She abandoned her initial strategic intuition to go and made a run with the little time opportunity she had left. Sternly she commanded Khan to move towards Shang, battling the snow that hurled at impossible speed under his feet.
"What? Are you crazy?" Mushu shouted next to her ears. "You are going to get yourself killed!"
She ignored him.
"How hard did he hit your head again?"
"You are supposed to be Shang's guardian angel, Mushu. I expect you to be a bit more supportive of my life-saving decision!"
Mushu crossed his arms. "Encouraging both of you to commit suicide is NOT the right correctional procedure, Mulan. At least, I need to get one of you to get out of here ALIVE!"
And he continued to rant, "And how can I let your father lose you? He was still broken from losing your mother!"
She huffed. "Baba still had Ping and Grandma Fa. But Mama Yue..." She paused, eyes drawn narrow in concentration. "Mushu, she already lost General Li, if she were to lose Shang... she would lose everything."
And that silenced him.
She raced her steed faster even when she heard the desperate call of sanity in her head, beckoning her, telling her to turn around and run for her life.
No. She thought. At least I have to try.
Khan faithfully hearkened to the voice of his master, steering resolutely among the rocky debris and current of the avalanche with unnerving determination. Her hands trembled as she reached Shang's listless body.
She steered Khan through the shortest possible way to higher ground. Despite Khan's best attempt, the snow dragged them closer to the cliff. Khan slipped and fell on his side, but managed to jump to safety right before the force of gravity dragged him with it. But his passengers weren't that fortunate.
She screamed in panic when the snow pushed them further. Thankfully, Mulan managed to secure Shang's body with Khan's reins. It would've been an instantaneous death if it wasn't because Khan was holding them up, suspending them with his reins.
They were hanging above the crevasses of endless white, swaying precariously on a single thread of rope. The only relief she felt was when she saw Shang was still breathing.
Khan neighed as he tried to pull them up, but the load was far too great and his energy was nearly spent. Even with her half-frozen brain she knew, there was very little chance the rope could sustain the weight of two grown adults.
"Calm down, Boy!" she said soothingly, inviting the horse to conserve his energy. Still perching on her shoulder, she could hear Mushu earnestly appealing to the higher deity for her safe return.
Tracing her finger on her lacerated chest, Mulan contemplated, if the Imperial medic attended her wound, her disguise would be uncovered and she would be condemned to death for deceiving her commanding officer. Moreover, it would dishonour the Fa name, disgrace her husband and tarnish his impeccable reputation.
"What do we do now?" Mushu said hoarsely, looking at her in dismay.
Mulan sighed, unable to say her decision out loud. She much rather died as a dutiful soldier, than to live as a dishonouring wife and unfilial daughter.
Her eyes laid in silence with her husband, attentively observing the masculine brushes of his hair and the rugged feature of his frown. She briefly thanked the spirits of her ancestors for sparing her life many times over, although this time she may not be that lucky.
She thought about what she's done with her life, what she'd become, the friendship she kindled and the love she felt. Soon, there won't be any of that, no more Ling's dry joke, Chien-Po's delicious cooking, Shao's sarcastic comments, her Grandma's antics, her Father's tender hugs….and no more Shang.
Mulan wouldn't hear him barking 'Ping!', chiding her tardiness in the morning in every possible way. And she wasn't thinking of him because he couldn't save her, she was thinking of him because she would miss him, and she cared for him deeply….
And she hoped he knew.
Looking up, she moved her hand in a universal motion to her horse, giving him a signal to where to go. "Take him to Ling and the others," she told her horse, and then to Mushu. "Please tell my father to look up to a new star in the sky."
Mushu sobbed melodramatically, while Khan neighed his weak disapproval. "I know… ," Mulan said softly. "But this is the only way." Khan remained displeased but resigned to the fact that his master was right.
Shang, forgive me.
Her lips grazed her husband's muted lips. I wish you many sons, a prosperous life, and all the happiness. She laid her head on his chest, listening to the soothing timbre of his heart one last time
...and I wish you love.
With that, she closed her teary eyes, and leaned backwards, letting go of the reins and welcoming the force of gravity to take hold of her fate.
Mulan welcomed the blackness that was quick to rise and greeted her.
Meanwhile in the woods...
There were a lot of cacophonies and painful screaming when a group of men in black, presumably bandits, caught up with them. As Ting Ting feared, the battle, albeit lasted for a good hour, was clearly one-sided.
"Ah, we claim our prize now," said one of them behind his mask, stepping closer.
Ting Ting caught a glance at General Li's red cape piled with a number of bodies mixed with snow and blood. Her heart sunk in her chest. All hopes of escape were gone.
"No.. no, please. I have money," she scrambled to the far corner of the carriage, frantically digging into her belongings. "Here take it," she threw a sack full of coins.
"Oh sweetie, you are worth far more than those coins. Way more!" One man with a large scar on his cheek purred as he yanked her like a rag doll and dragged her out in the snow. She was soon bound despite her best effort to free herself.
Darkness surrounded her as her capture covered her head with an old linen sack that smelt like week-old socks.
"Stand up," said the voice behind her as he lugged her with force.
It was both blinding and intense as Ting Ting tried to gain her bearings. Although her vision had been impaired, it also served to sharpen her other senses. She could hear the rapid pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. Taste the coppery, bitter tang of bile and blood in her mouth. Smell the sweat and tears that had become embedded in the cloth covering her face.
She was still alive. Alive to face the worst.
Honestly, she didn't know which one was better, to be a bride of a barbarian king or to be sold as a slave or perhaps forced into prostitution. She could feel the ache in her muscles from the intense battle of survival she had earlier. Feel the tight pressure at her wrists from the ropes that kept her bound.
She was thrown to a hard wooden surface and was ordered to stay still. Every few minutes the floor would vibrate and shake, jostling her. They were on the move. To where Ting Ting had no idea.
Her concept of time was lost. It could've been hours or days since they'd captured her. The amount of dehydration, hunger and fatigue her body must endure had prevented lucidity. She drifted in and out of consciousness with nothing but the constant pain and rumbling sensation beneath her to remind her that she was alive.
She'd been dreaming of her home, of her brother and Tian when a loud clanging sound interrupted. The noise was like metal being torn apart. Moments later, there were hands on her. She struggled to avoid them, but it was futile with her own limbs bound.
She was hauled across the floor. There was a soft snip, followed by another, and the pressure lessened. Her hands and legs separated. Cautiously, she moved them and breathed a sigh of relief when she found they were completely free. The rough hands dragged her again, and her body seemed to tilt. She was placed on her feet, but they were weak. The grip on her tightened roughly to keep her upright.
Her captor still kept her head covered, she could only hear his familiar voice conversing with someone.
Ting Ting, feeling more conscious than dazed by now, whimpered in response to the sharp object she felt pressed against her spine. It was too pointy to be a sword; it definitely had to be a knife. Every step was like a shock to her stiff muscles.
Finally, her captors stopped, and she heard a clicking sound of something heavy as she was handed over to someone else. Had she been… sold?
The callous palm guided her a lot more gently this time. Judging from the size of his hand, she knew whoever bought her for a price was a man. She quietly prayed to the gods he would be a decent person that had enough morals to treat her with dignity.
The place where he brought her gradually turned brighter, she could feel the cold snow under her feet. And then he pulled the sack around her head.
She blinked rapidly trying to adjust to the light. A face with a sharp frown came to view. She gasped, and she recognised that face.
"Brother?"
At Tung Shao Pass...
The experience of falling wasn't as scary as Mulan thought it would, more so when her surroundings were a magical blanket of white, sparkling under the perusal of the last tendril of the sun.
Mulan didn't know how long she had laid unconscious there, but the coldness against her back insinuated her awareness. From her vantage, she could see the clear sky that was tainted with beautiful red colour and the distant ledge where she had fallen. There was no Shang, no Khan… indicating they were saved. Well, she hoped they were saved, otherwise, her sacrifice would be for nothing.
Now that Shang was out of harm's way and out of immediate view, she was now losing control. She couldn't move a single muscle and everything hurt. The tears she thought she had been too shocked to let out in the immediate aftermath now came with a vengeance as her chest tightened and her breaths became rapid in an attempt to get any amount of air into her lungs. She was injured, dying and alone.
But the unanticipated sound of soft footfalls pressed against fresh snow kept her consciousness intact.
She could hear the muffled sound of speaking, she couldn't be sure whether they were friends or foes, so she closed her eyes, pretending to be dead perhaps would be her best chance of survival—if it were any chance at all.
Someone must have squatted close because Mulan could feel his breaths on her face. The next thing she felt was her helmet slipping off her head, and someone grabbed her wrist, perhaps searching for the pulse on her hand.
Something smothered her face. She struggled futilely before the darkness claimed her.
Meanwhile, miles out of the woods...
Shao Wei didn't say anything as he rushed towards her, placing his hands around her, surrounding her.
"Brother Shao, I..I'm fine," Ting Ting whispered, trying hard not to cry but failing. The memory of how Ling saved her came back, unbidden. How she wished he was here, holding her tight together with her brother. Comforting her. Protecting her.
"I'm glad they found you. On time," he said, hugging her so tight she could barely breathe. "I sent Admiral Zhi when I found your room was empty."
Ting Ting swept her sight around to catch glimpse of Admiral Zhi and the rest of his troops, kneeling in front of them. They had saved her from the hands of those bandits, somehow.
"Thank you," she choked, regarding the Admiral with eyes full of gratitude.
"The honour is mine, My Princess," Admiral Zhi replied humbly. "Although...I'm sorry about General Li. A local claimed he found his... remain while hunting for boar."
Although it was bad news, somehow, it gave her a sense of relief. A Closure. Knowing the General wasn't suffering any further torture at the hand of those bandits.
"We... so let's go home." She slowly extricated her brother's grip, trying to take a good look at him. "I think you can do with some sleep."
Shao only chucked, shaking his head as he wiped her tears gently with his thumb. "Now I think I can sleep for a week. A month even!"
He helped her to change into something cleaner and more comfortable for the long journey ahead.
"You.. you are not angry?" she whispered when they were sitting side by side inside the sedan.
"I'm sure you have your reason. Whatever you do, you normally do it out of the kindness of your heart," he put it simply, taking her hand and planting a chaste kiss. "I'm just glad you are okay. Father will chastise me if I fail to take good care of you. Anyway, all in the past now. Shall we... just discuss your catering needs? I bet you fancy some more sophisticated food after a solid week of cold bean buns. We can stop in Xi'an at your favourite restaurant. I can send a messenger ahead to prepare some honey and garlic crab, your favourite."
"T-thank you," she paid him with a sincere smile.
Suddenly, their sedan grounded to a half. A group of men, the royal guards and the councilman on their horses, were at their presence. Shao waved the guards to lower their sedan so they could step outside.
"Your Majesty!" the man in formal robes descended from his steed, before clasping his hand, bowing. "Urgent news."
Shao Wei waved his hands, "Go on."
"The Emperor of China... has passed away."
Somewhere in Mongolia...
A delicious smell rose in her soul as though resurrected from the brink of death. Mulan slowly opened her eyes, just to find that she was swaddled neatly in the comfort of a bed in a dark room. She must have fallen unconscious from the combination of blood loss, fatigue, hypothermia... and whatever she was forced to inhale earlier.
This was odd, she thought while expecting heaven would be like blazing daylight.
She noticed the lantern hanging on the ceiling above her. She swept her sight across the room. The old furniture, animal skin rugs and blanket, another lantern hung on the wall, a stack of dishes that were left unwashed. She wasn't in heaven but wasn't in a prison either. The room was so spartan it was hard to tell who the owner was. She could only be sure she was in someone's home. A Hun's home.
Laying there, she remembered with clarity the ambush and the intense battle that was clearly one-sided. She remembered the raw panic she had felt the moment she realized the avalanche would swallow Shang. She remembered the vivid epiphany in the split second, an admission of things she had best left unsaid, even to herself.
Mulan tried to stifle her groan as her body protested sharply when she forced herself to sit up. She quickly scrutinized herself—there was no more battle armour, she was in a comfortable, thick woollen robe, and under it her lacerated chest had been stitched carefully and skilfully. She was fortunate to be alive, but that thought wasn't a comfort.
Her eyes laboriously scanned around her surroundings while her brain racked with scenarios, bad ones. Huns might have held her captive and tortured her for information, or perhaps her fellow citizen managed to find her while unconscious, even that couldn't mean a good thing, because whosoever her saviour was, he knew he had saved a woman.
But that didn't matter now, as long as her friends were safe.
Mulan tried to ignore the clench that formed around her heart as she thought about her comrades. They would have been reunited with Shang and perhaps mourning over her death right now. If it were not because of the terrible weather condition, no doubt Shang would send her friend out to do a search even when it was against his instinct that she could possibly make it alive. She could imagine Chien-Po's typical positivity trying to outshine Ling's panic rant and Yao's scepticism. Those three could bicker to no end, in a funny way. That mental picture made her smile for a second. Chien-Po's stumpy leg possessed the speed and efficiency of a sloth and the clumsiness of a child. He might be the least of a warrior among the four of them, but the kind giant would be the one that relentlessly worried about leaving her without enough food or layer of clothing in the current frigid weather - if she could ever return to them.
She hated the thought of causing her friends to fear the worst. Shang, however, was an experienced soldier and an expert in dealing with loss at war. He would know what to do. Mulan could only hope that he would be willing to share his mental support with the team.
Suddenly, the flap of the door moved, spilling the blazing light of daytime from outside. The disparity made Mulan blinded for a split second. She blinked rapidly trying to adjust to the room light. A face with a sharp frown came to view. She gasped because she recognised that face.
When Shang gained consciousness just to realise he was laying on the makeshift bed, inside the safehouse, about one day's journey from the Tung Shao Pass.
"Captain…" It was Chien-Po, offering him some soup to drink to restore his strength.
Shang was relieved to see him. That meant his team made it safely. Well, all except one.
Shang sighed despondently to himself. He could start to feel the ache and dizziness radiating from the back of his head, perhaps enduring some form of concussion. A few large lacerations on his arm and legs soaked his clothing with blood, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
Despite Chien-Po's protest, he hobbled towards the door. From the threshold, he saw Yao was loading up the last of the ammunition that they hadn't used, which had been few. Looking at the cannon, the horrific reality hit him hard again. The blaring sound of the blast, the cracking ground below him… and Ping...
Ping had died. He had died saving his comrade… and saving him.
"Here, let me," Ling said. It was oddly alien to hear such an authoritative yet patient voice come from him. Shang blinked, his brain was waking up piece by piece, only to notice his notoriously awkward recruit was purposefully pushing him to sit, dabbing his bleeding shoulder with antiseptic cloths.
"Ping meant a lot to us, " he said as if he knew what he was thinking.
He meant the world to me. But Shang swallowed his words, instead, sitting quietly letting Ling deal with his wound.
"There," Ling stood up as he was done with his handiwork. Although there was lots of blood, his wound was considered tame and non-life-threatening. "You've done everything you can, Captain," he remarked, placing his skinny hand on his shoulder. "And you've always been good to us," Ping included. "You don't have to feel guilty, it's the last thing Ping would want you to feel."
Yes, he remembered Ping's skinny hand on the same spot on his shoulder and the rush of comfort from that simple touch. Just to have a living hand touch him and remind him that even in that place of death, life went on.
But how could he?
First, his father died. And now Ping was...gone.
And the boy's fighting spirit would never die until he did.
Perhaps more, more than Shang cared to admit. He surprised himself with the kind of grief he had been experiencing. Losing his soldiers wasn't a novel experience for a seasoned soldier like himself.
Ping's terrified features were stark in his mind, guilt and reproach strangled his heart as he sat on his bed. It should've been him who died under Shan-Yu's mighty blade that day. But he immediately put his hardcore mask back on when he noticed Ling staring at him intently.
"Ling… what are you?" he tried to finish the question but Ling already pulled his arm and guided him inside where no one else would hear them.
"Don't do that," he told him sternly.
"Do...do what?" Shang croaked.
Looking at how broken he was, Ling's expression softened. "Pretend like it doesn't hurt," he said. "You just lost the two most important people in your life."
Shang didn't know why his eyes started to water. "No… Ling. I... I'm fine."
A sad look flashed across Ling's face, and something inside him stirred. Shang forgot that he wasn't the only one who was missing Ping. Ling was aching too. And Shang was losing all the tenuous hold of his composure.
"It should've been me," he admitted, voice trembling as he plopped on the floor. Ling was only standing there, regarding him with his sympathetic eyes. "It should've been me who died that day." Shang closed his eyes.
There was a beat of silence. Shang could hear Ling shifting closer and taking a seat next to him but he didn't react until Ling's hand rested on his knee.
"Well, maybe for once, I could be a friend for a little while so someone could take care of you," Ling offered with a faint smile.
Shang was stunned as if he was stabbed through his heart. When was the last time someone told him that? He had always been the strongest one, the one who stood to inspire everyone not to give up, the one with visionary ideas, the one in charge of taking care of everyone. He was their leader…. and he was always... alone. The realisation of how badly he needed someone who could offer him comfort right now, shook him.
Ling pulled him into a brotherly hug and whispered, "Everything will be alright."
That was all it took for his facade to crack. Shang practically collapsed into Ling's arm and finally, finally let himself cry.
The next day, Shang woke up feeling mentally recuperated. He never thought something as simple as sharing his innermost pain would be this liberating. He packed his stuff and thought about a new strategy to ambush the remnant of the Huns should they make it to Chang'an. He was determined that he won't let Ping's sacrifice turn in vain.
"Captain?" a raspy query from the door revealed Yao, with a bag and a sword in his hand.
He gestured to the table silently and Yao took a cue that he wished to be left alone.
"Ping's belongings," Yao explained, placing the items on the table before leaving him again with his thoughts.
Slowly, Shang took hold of the sword, recollecting Ping's heroic actions one by one. But when he reached his hand into the boy's bag, his heart jumped to his throat.
It was then he found a few letters—his letters—addressed to no one else than his wife. Fa-Li Mulan.
Shang's body went limp.
"Captain, are you alright?" said a voice from outside the door. Moments later, Chien-Po, Ling and Yao let themselves in. Knowing the situation, they must have expected his reaction.
"We… we want to tell you," Chien-Po confessed.
"We?!" The initial shock had yet to set in, and another one struck him like lightning to the core. "You mean… you all knew?" He glared at the recruits one by one.
No answers, but their silence served as admittance.
"You all kept this away from me? How could you?!"
Another beat of grim silence. Suddenly, all the bitter-sweet memories of Ping that transpired the day before felt like hot rocks against his chest. There was no 'Ping'. It was only his cunning wife who had deceived him and almost the entire regiment. What hurt most was because these three men - the people he slowly accepted as his friends. His family. Yet they had a gut to conspire against him.
"She was here to take the place of her father," Ling tried to explain. "She can't tell you because… she knows you'll never approve."
"I trust you!" Shang hissed. "I trust you all!"
"We are sorry," Chien-Po squeaked, not knowing how to quell Shang's anger. "I thought at the right time….she'll tell you." And now she was dead.
"Who else?" Shang breathed through gritted teeth, holding his temper although barely.
Yao raised his brow."Who else what?"
"Who else knew?"
The three men exchanged a hesitant look that Shang couldn't quite decipher.
"Fa Zhou…" finally one of them opened their mouth.
"And… er…—" Ling fiddled with his thumb.
"Prince... prince of Wei."
Shang needed to second-take that. "You mean… Shao Wei?"
"We didn't tell him," Chien-Po clarified. "He figured it out himself quite earlier on when he saw...-" Ling swatted his chest, hard, causing the giant to jump, lumber backwards, and released a tiny, musical fart. "Sorry," he squeaked, blushing. If Shang were in a better mood, he would find the scene very much amusing too. Alas...
Shao Wei, how did he...?
It suddenly made perfect sense. Why the Prince overturned his decision to send Ping home. Why he played favouritism, dared he said 'flirt' with Ping on the same level he did… and why he invited Ping to stay in that stupid mansion in Japan! And Ping, the fact that she was still staying in Wuzong even after he told her that he took her father's place... she chose to stay and spend every waking moment training with Shao, it must be because she...
Something inside him snapped. "Get out!" he ordered.
"It is not like what you think," Ling argued as if he overheard the accusation out loud. "She isn't that kind of girl. Never. Besides, Mu...— Ping saved you time and time again… the least you can do is to forgive her for not being perfectly honest with you."
He wanted to grab Ling by the collar and shake some sense into his thick skull, thankfully he only went as far as balling his fist. "Don't you dare to tell me how I should live my life!"
Ling narrowed his eyes. "Why do you think she lied to you… and not to us?" he scoffed. "This is why!" he gesticulated wildly at him. "Ever since she married you, she can't be the woman that she is. It's like living in a prison without walls!"
That hit a nerve. "Get out!" Shang brandished his sword with one swift, calculated move and directed it at Ling's neck, startling him.
Ling nearly fell backwards, eyes full of shock and fear. It was a thoughtless assertion made in anger. He gulped like wanting to swallow his impertinent words back but he couldn't. "Captain... We are—I mean...I am sorry," he stammered, realising his careless audacity may well lead to an instant decapitation, or worse, destroyed their friendship. Next to him Yao and Chien-Po froze in their place. Their captain might be a cold, unapproachable disciplinarian, but they had never seen him consumed in barely restrained wrath before.
"I said GET OUT! ALL OF YOU!"
Chastened, Chien-Po grabbed Yao and Ling by the shoulder and shepherded them out. "Time to go, guys."
And once Shang was finally alone, the barrier finally broke free.
How could she, of all women, have the audacity to do this to him? After all that he'd done for her...How could she?
And he futilely thought things began to change between them.
His unexplainable obsession with Ping made it clear that what he felt for her was something more than platonic or contractual. She was always at the back of his mind, ghosting every thought and decision.
But now, it was clear this feeling was just an unrequited sentiment on his part. An exploitable weakness.
His hand trembled as he grabbed the bowl of water sitting by his side, hurled it towards the door. The sound of the ceramic shattering assuaged his anger for a split second. But the shock hit him and the truth hit even harder. He didn't even try to stop when tears sprang into his eyes. The dam finally broke. All hope was gone. Shang never cried so hard in his twenty-four years than the day he learned the first and only woman that he loved...was gone.