Years ago, it was unmistakably impossible even to think any warriors from any other kingdom would stand a chance of facing Shan-Yu and staying alive, let alone nearly defeating him until Kaidu heard about the Soldier of the Mountain.
The Chinese army called him 'Ping'. On the first look, this Ping guy might not look like a competent soldier, being scrawny and reckless. But that's exactly why Ping was so dangerous. He looked weak, clumsy and unsuspecting that even a forward thinker like Hayabusa or a seasoned warrior like Shan-Yu was fooled. That boy had single-handedly defeated his well-trained army. Once, he could say it was down to luck, but twice? It was certainly down to skill.
At first, Kaidu wished to find and kill him, but after Hayabusa told him who this boy truly was, his admiration grew. Among all the crazy speculation Kaidu had managed to think of, he did not expect Ping to be a woman. Chinese women, no less! How could that be possible? Chinese women were submissive, they did not go to war, and they could not even choose their future husbands themselves. In China, a woman was property, a slave in disguise! But Hun women were equal to men; they could fight as well or better. They were listened to when they spoke and respected on any occasion because no one had to defend her honour. And Kaidu could only wonder what kind of fearless warrior Ping would be if she were to be born as a Hun. But perhaps this was his flawed presumption, as the wise saying, that the flower that grew in adversity was the most beautiful of all. It was possible that Ping's admirable courage and bravery were born out of hardship and oppression.
And then he heard how the young Chinese prince threw his arms and legs against his father to wed her. He even chose Ping ahead of his daughter, a princess and future Khatun! But it was hardly a surprising plot twist. If Ping were truly this elusive yet magnificent warrior of the mountain who slayed thousands of Huns alone, it would only make sense that she deserved the best! Truthfully, given the chance, Kaidu would not make her his wife, for someone he respected should not be forced. Her voluntary compliance would be his greatest honour.
"So, does that mean you will give me permission to appear before the Chinese council?" Altan said, crossing her arms. Kaidu had been drilling her on all things 'Ping' related without giving her any positive sign of approval. "We are nearly a year late."
"Daughter," he said, offering her to sit, but she refused.
"First, we must stop this."
"Stop what?" She busied herself by approaching the weaponry rack.
"This," he made a gesture with his finger. "Between us."
"There has never been anything between us," she replied coldly, touching the blade of the spear he used for hunting deer.
"It used to be. Before your mother died."
She ignored him.
"Altan, listen," he said patiently. "Everyone we trusted and loved is gone, either dead… or betray us. If we are to rebuild our army again, you and I must be on the same page. One heart… one mind. Or this kingdom will fall. So if you can't do this for me, do it for our people."
She stared at him.
"Then hear me out," she said after a beat. "I have a plan."
Kaidu rested his hand on his palm. Knowing his daughter, the plan would either be nonsensical, dangerous, or both. Yet he said, "I'm listening."
"If I agree to become a part of the Chinese Council, we will be more at peace that the Chinese won't do anything to harm us. Not only that, with our border security with the Qin kingdom… we will need strong allies." He heard this plan more than once now. Logically speaking, he agreed with her, but he couldn't help but think there was another ulterior motive on her part. A plan that involves something more sinister than just a political truce with the prince that ripped her heart. So, he had been stalling his decision. Besides, he didn't like the idea of sending his only daughter, his heart and soul, into the den of lions. But in the same way, he believed this was her chance to tame them. And he knew she could, for he raised Altan not just to be a warrior but also a conqueror.
"I let you go to Forbidden City on one condition."
"Yes?"
"You must persuade Fa Mulan to come here and help us find Hayabusa." The former Hun strategist and the only other survivor of the blast had since disappeared after much speculation of his involvement with the Chinese to remove the Khan from the throne.
"Really? Fa Mulan? What can she do that we can not?" Altan crossed her arms.
"I just have a feeling of where Hayabusa might be." For a while now, Kaidu had suspected Hayabusa took refuge in the neighbouring Qin kingdom in exchange for some invaluable classified information. "But to confirm my theory, I need someone as a spy. Someone unsuspecting and clever. Someone who's… dispensable."
She sniggered, "What makes you think a clever girl like her will agree to help us?"
"Why do you think she married that Chinese scoundrel? Money? Fame?...Do you even think she loves him? She might be clever, Altan, but that doesn't mean she didn't have weaknesses."
She stared mutely back at him.
Kindness. Ping's humanity and empathy were her weakness. She was selfless and loyal and would do anything for other people, and Shao knew this.
Altan pressed her lips together, considering what to do before accepting the challenge, "I will try my best," she said, putting the best face of compliance.
"Good," he said, clearing his throat. "Is it safe for you to go alone?"
"No, I am planning to take Tarkhan with me."
Tarkhan. Kaidu exhaled. The name had been mentioned a lot in the past few months. He was the newest Hun recruit and the first and only inner circle member who…..He couldn't finish his thought. If anyone knew about his background, they would be sceptical of the man's loyalty. But he knew questioning her judgement over this man's integrity would only burn the bridge down once again. So instead, he asked carefully. "Can he defend you?"
Her expression turned into a defensive scowl. "I can defend myself, Father."
He held both hands; it was best not to antagonise a wild horse with a spear. "I know… I know. Sorry, that came up wrong. I mean, you need to make sure he is ready. His body and his mind have been through a lot."
She seemed to relax, knowing his concern was genuine. "I'll make sure of it, and when he is done with his training, I'll take him and Baatar with me."
Kaidu rubbed his beard, "Do you think it's a good idea to take Tarkhan back into the place that defined his past? He might not remember anything, but that could change."
"It can be a good thing," she smirked, imagining. "Perhaps he will remember the man who sent him to his death to steal his wife."
It was a fine, glorious morning when Mulan found herself on a strange solo shopping trip with the mission of finding a perfect birthday gift for her sister-in-law. She inspected the shop one by one, thinking hard of what could be a perfect present, one that a princess like Ting Ting didn't have.
She passed a craft shop and thought a new pair of cosy, fur-lined slippers would be unique, stylish and practical for Ting Ting. Mulan had never seen her wear one, so it's safe to assume this would likely be her first pair.
The bell over the door chimed merrily as Mulan stepped over the threshold and found herself the only patron in the store.
"Be with you in just a second!" a male voice shouted from the back of the store, muffled slightly by the rustling of something that sounded like boxes being shuffled about, and so Mulan took this time to appraise the store. It was a nice, cosy place. Despite the old wood and weathered paint, with enough light from the sales windows to stop it from becoming dull. The shop was small but rammed with an excellent selection of footwear. It featured a neat display of woven socks in cashmere and wool and lines of fur slippers gleaming in sunlight. A glimpse of fox fur slippers in exotic terracotta and golden shade caught her eyes. Gold was her late mother's favourite, Mulan thought, and she stamped down the nostalgia that sprang up at the thought, putting it away as the sound of footsteps drew nearer.
"Sorry about that," the voice said from behind her, clearer now, and as Mulan started to turn towards it, he asked, "What can I do for you?"
And then she turned and saw the man the voice belonged to, and for a solid ten seconds, she was struck utterly and entirely dumb.
Because it's Shang.
War did little to smother the handsomeness from his face. Despite a few fine wrinkles and a slightly sagging bag underneath his eyes, Shang's eyes still radiated with fierceness and bravery; his stature still retained his natural stoutness and good looks that had made her fall all over again in love with him.
And of course it cannot be Shang, because Shang died saving China. But Mulan would know those eyes, face, hands, and hair anywhere. It cannot be Shang, and yet it was.
Mulan was so confused it almost hurt.
"Shang?" she choked out, past lips that had suddenly gone numb, throat dryer than a desert, and she almost wanted to pull the word back. Because now that she had said it, he was free to deny it, to crush unknowingly this hope that had started to bubble, impossible and foolhardy beneath her breastbone.
Instead, this impossibility said only, with a light air of puzzlement, "Is 'Shang' the name of someone you know?" And then, still with only polite curiosity, "Have we met before?"
As he looked at her, Mulan realised that there was nothing in his eyes that knew her, and this was almost worse than when she fell into the crevasse in Tung Shao Pass all those years ago and saw the remnant of the macabre massacre that killed the Imperial Army. Because there had always been something in Shang's eyes that had known her, even when she first arrived in the encampment when he had never known who Ping was before.
If this was Shang, it was a Shang that did not know her.
And then, with a gesture to his neck, where a pendant that looked suspiciously like the one she had rested in her neck, he continued, clearly warming to the topic, "That's interesting. I saw that you have the same pendant as mine. It must be quite fashionable."
"You own this shop?" she said instead, trying desperately to understand what was happening. An evil twin? Divine reincarnation? Anything would be more plausible than her dead husband returning to the land of the living.
His answer was less than helpful in that regard, as he smiled awkwardly, just like she remembered how uncomfortable Shang always was in front of women. "This shop is someone else's. I am only helping."
Mulan wanted to touch him so badly that her hands were trembling against the effort of her mind. No. It can't be him. She told herself. It was just a cruel, practical joke.
It took her minutes to finally command her legs to take her out of the shop. She ran to the nearest restroom and cried herself to exhaustion.
When she opened her eyes again, she was lying in her bed inside her chamber. It was dark, and the candle was still lit outside the curtain of her four-poster bed. The encounter left her rattled.
Shang was alive, even if it was only in her dream.
"Here," Ling said, coming up to her as they sat in front of her quarter, a glass of warm tea in his hand, "You look like you need this."
"Oh, thank you. I don't…I don't look too freaked out, do I?"
It was hard not to feel nostalgic about him, who they were in the past, and how intensely she felt for him.
"Well," Ling said with a small smile, "He is the love of your life."
Mulan fell silent at that. She wanted people—her friends and family—to understand that Shao was her future, and Shang was her past. But could she do that? It's like someone asking her not to breathe and live. Suddenly, Mulan had a horrible, horrible realisation. At that moment, everything disappeared around her, and all there was for her was a loud roaring in her ears, blackness in the edges of her vision and a sick feeling in her stomach. She shut her eyes.
"Hey... Mulan, don't worry…you'll be fine!" Ling said from what sounded far away. Mulan looked up and found him already standing by the garden gate; a lopsided smile decorated his face as he waved, and then she felt a small pressure on the small of her back. Turning slightly, she found Shao sitting beside her, looking intently at her.
"Are you alright?" Shao asked her quietly, his dark eyes concerned.
She nodded almost too immediately. "Bad dream."
"It's ok, I'm here," he said, squeezing her hands. "I know exactly how to distract you from a nightmare."
He offered her wine. So Mulan drank the drinks, and when Shao asked if she wanted a walk to clear her head, she kissed him on his cheek and said she had a bottle of baijiu inside her kitchen cabinet in her private sanctum. She asked whether he joined her for a glass, and he agreed.
The baijiu stayed in the cabinet.
The lockhole to her quarter was tiny and fiddly, and she had to pause to try to fit the key, so Shao stepped up behind her, kissing her neck and distracting her as she did so. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly, letting her body make the choices instead of her head.
Shao was not a bad kisser, but he had magic hands.
Her ruqun was half undone before she managed to remove her shoes, and then she was pressed up against the wall beside the door with her chest binding open. She shook her shoes on the floor and pushed his robe back off his shoulders.
Shao didn't pick her up, and she's happy with that. That happened with Shang in her fantasies when she was wounded, and he carried her like his knight in shining armour. Right now, she wanted something real, something not him, and so the fact that Shao didn't pick her up was good.
Instead, she guided him down the corridor to her bedroom, shedding clothes as they went.
She slipped off her skirt and almost tripped over it on the floor, and he caught her, and both laughed. She kissed him as she undid his sash, and he undid his pants, and then it was his turn to almost trip.
She caught sight of them in the mirror, saw his long dark hair beside her own, and he looked up to catch her looking, and he grinned, pushing the gossamer fabric of her undergarment out of the way so she could see his hands on her skin. See his hand methodically removing them, see her face as she reacted to his touch.
"You like to watch?" he whispered, and she didn't, not really, but this was incredibly hot, and… she needed a solid affirmation of the identity of the person she was with.
Shang was cold, like a frozen lake. He never wore the emotion off his sleeve. He was honest and simple-minded, flew like a straight arrow, obedient and loyal to a fault. Shao was like a fire. He was brash and loud, charming and complicated. He was the antithesis of whatever Shang embodied. And he loved her.
After a while, her eyes fell closed, and she just experienced the sensations of him. But she never for one second lost sight of who she was with.
That this man wasn't Shang.
That evening, Shao sat down for his usual quiet dinner with Zetian. Despite his best effort to cover it up, he was sure she saw the love bites all over his neck but said nothing—no snide stare or sarcastic remark. For a moment, he thought perhaps both of his wives had made peace behind his back—a thought he surprisingly worried about.
Half through dinner, one of his advisors announced that the Hun Princess was coming to accept their invitation to be part of the Honorary Council. And her entourage would like to arrange for a formal meeting. He knew this day would be coming.
Inviting Altan into his palace, his home, was never his idea. But when Mulan put it forward with her enthusiastic, hopeful eyes and hands wrapped around his, Shao found himself unable to say no. Besides, it sounded very coherent with his anti-violence narration, and he approved of it without much thinking. He wouldn't ask his Empress' or advisor's opinion on the matter—another example of how his affection for her had swayed his judgment.
He quickly shook off the thought and glanced towards Zetian, who tensed up beside him while quietly chewing her food as the messenger prattled on about the details of the Hun Princess' arrival. Meeting face-to-face with the woman who put an end to her father was no small feat, but she said nothing, just staring into her bowl of pea soup with her sad, glassy eyes. It broke him to see her like that.
Eventually, he left the breakfast room and hoped to call his generals and have a quick briefing about how to anticipate this meeting when Di-Tan rushed in.
"Your Majesty," Di-Tan bowed. He asked the king's permission to send all the maidservants and anyone else out of the meeting room before presenting him with a sack of barley seedlings.
"Your humble servant brought the news," he said, kneeling deeper before the throne. "Her Majesty Empress… she is expecting."
It was as if a firework had just erupted in his head. All sorts of mesmerising colours flashed in his mind. An unexplainable euphoria hit him like a wave; the Hun's crisis was immediately forgotten. He was sure he had been grinning like a lunatic for longer than a minute, not that it mattered because he had finally become a father! (Not that Wentai and Min Lung weren't counted, but we all know what he meant).
"You don't act like you bring good tidings," Shao quirked his brows at the palace healer, who still trained his head on the floor like a wilting flower under the intense sun. "This is good news, finally an heir to the throne!"
"Yes… I suppose it is good news," Di-Tan cleared his throat, and Shao's smile dimmed when he saw the concerned look plastered on the healer's face.
"Then, what is it?" Is the baby not healthy? Dear ancestor, it got no limbs? "Is there any other concern?" Is it a girl? He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. Just look at Mulan and Zetian.
"It is not that," Di-Tan replied, looking at him with pitiful eyes. Shao was done with his cryptic conversation; he couldn't waste more time. There was a Hun Princess to…
"Your Majesty, I don't think the child is yours."
It felt like the earthquake just happened, and everything in his world crumbled.
The child was not his.
Not his.
"How do you know?" he blurted, his mind went numb.
The older man pulled out a calendar scroll with marks of cross and dots on it. Shao almost forgot what it was after a year of sitting on the throne. One of the tasks of the palace healer was to follow the Emperor around and to note where or how he spent his night. It used to bother him, knowing Di-Tan was outside the bedchamber when he and Zetian lay naked in their bed, hearing every noise they made. But after the healer saved him when someone tried to lace his sleeping robe with poisonous ivy powder or when one of the maids accidentally mistaken nightshade vine for ginseng root. Shao accepted this strange invasion of privacy as a crucial act of protection.
"You were away for two weeks," Di-Tan said, finger still on the scroll. "Yes, you immediately spent the night with your Empress right after, but….you did not sleep with her. You two only did a week after," he added, uncaring to the fact Shao's ear turned red. Not only did Di-Tan hear what they were doing, he was possibly watching them!
"Also….one of the maids saw traces of the purple acacia root on the Empress' teapot," he said. Acacia root was a common method of birth control, something that was prohibited in the Harem, as all the women were encouraged to have as many offspring as possible.
It was like hearing one of his sordid jokes, except that the joke was on him. There was a muddled shout of line of order at the servants, but everything was so fuzzy and unreal. The next minute, he was on the settee with Di-Tan propped on his shoulder while offering him some warm herbal tea.
This wasn't a nightmare. This was real.
His heart lurched helplessly in his chest. Among so many women he courted, dated and slept with, Zetian was the last of them that he thought could ever be unfaithful. That was normally his job.
Don't be such a hypocrite! said the voice in his head.
He had two wives. He loved one and slept with the other. Why was Zetian not allowed to do the same? Besides, it's not like he became exclusive to her during their years of engagement. He had always seen other women, and Zetian had turned a blind eye to each of them. And now she did it to him just once…
Maybe it was karma. He was unsure how many husbands or families he had ruined in the past due to his philandering habit. But Shao wouldn't mentally incriminate himself now that he thought he had changed. Why should he still be punished?
"Do you know who the man is?" he growled.
"Ah, that," Di-Tan adjusted his spectacle again. "I can only suspect, but…I believe you have heard a rumour…"
A tell-tale was going around for months about Zetian and General Yan Shu. But Shao thought nothing of it. There was plenty of rumour about him and Mulan too when she was expecting Min Lung. Most of them involved her seducing him for his money or that she worked as a prostitute who cleverly disguised herself as a soldier. He knew nothing of the gossip came close to half the truth, so he let people believe what they wanted to believe. Naturally, he thought this was also the case with Zetian, that it was merely nothing but a story spun by meddling servants or eunuchs who had nothing better to do.
"Call for a meeting!" his incensed voice echoed in the empty meeting hall.
"My Emperor, if I may say," Di-Tan asked politely, inviting him to sit. "I know you feel like someone had wronged you… but," he regarded Shao with his dark, patient eyes. "Empress Zetian is well regarded among your citizens, nobility and the generals alike. She is a dedicated queen and princess far before her ascension."
But surely, a princess couldn't just court her lowly bodyguard and not expect any backlash from uppity nobles. And what would they say about him as an Emperor who could not rule his household and control his wife? How could he lead a country? But there was no way he would be silent about this; he wouldn't let the two defile his marital bed from under his nose!
"What are you saying Di-Tan?" he paced impatiently.
"Any form of explicit punishment, especially since the sudden departure of Emperor Xiongnu was still fresh in people's minds, would split the country and destroy the palace cohesion. Considering your marriage to her was arranged for the political benefit on your part, I'd say many of your subjects who sympathise with her predicament and overlook the whole indecent situation."
Curse that good-looking, blind oaf! Shao also berated himself for approving such an attractive guy as her bodyguard. Hell, she even convinced him to make Yan Shu one of their generals with the privilege of never stepping into the battle. How could he not see all these tactical manipulations? All this clever cover-up to the point they were having a child together! Shao groaned into his palms. He should've picked another bodyguard for Zetian—a weaker, less attractive model.
If she were untouchable, he would hurt the person she loved the most. "Then, I'll make him pay!"
"If the Empress stood up for him—which, knowing her, she would for the sake of saving him—and confessed that she commanded him to sleep with her, General Yan Shu technically was not at fault. He was simply obeying the request of a person to whom he was sworn his loyalty."
It was a clever move. Had she 'checkmated' him even before he decided to move any pin? "Sounds like an abuse of power to me," Shao thought out loud to consider if there was any other possible way to incriminate one of them.
"Well," Di-Tan fell into thought, adjusting his glasses over his nose carefully. "You've married your subordinate from the regiment. And if I recollected correctly, you've removed Fa Mulan rather forcefully from her home where she was still mourning the death of her husband, taking her here to be your consort."
The parallel in the situation rendered him speechless. Yes, he knew he wasn't an angel, but he didn't know it sounded so bad until Di-Tan showed him the other perspective. Yes, even if presumably Zetian had misused her authority, Yan-Shu was very much able to walk out of the situation by resigning from his post—which he didn't—and that suggested he was very much a willing participant in the baby-making equation. While he? He kidnapped Mulan from her home and shoved a marriage proposal down her throat. He even dared to claim he was doing this for her! And when she refused, he devised another strategy. He appealed to her self-sacrificing side. He exploited her kindness and friendship and manipulated her willingness to help him to make her his consort—something far more permanent and irreversible than a position as a bodyguard. Now, who had been abusing power here, he or Zetian?
"I…" he trailed off, mind went blank. Seemed like the gods finally decided it was payback time. He stole the throne from Zetian's father, and now he would have to give his throne to her child with another man. Zetian might have won against him, but he refused to wallow in defeat and licked his wounded pride while she walked all over him with her lover. Never!
"Your majesty, I'd say just keep quiet and wait… because if this child is a boy…"
That's exactly what he didn't want to do. He much rather crowned Wentai, Mulan's adopted son, who had no single drop of royal blood in him, to rise to his throne.
Di-Tan seemed to be able to see through his mind and said. "The advisor, council and your generals will never agree to it. Even if Master Wentai grows up into a respectable nobleman, he will remain an outsider."
Shao chewed his lips. He didn't know it would hurt this bad knowing the woman he spent hating for the most part of his life actually loved another man.
"Does… does she know?"
"No," Di-Tan clasped his hand, "Empress Zetian isn't informed yet. I decided to tell Your Majesty first."
Shao fell into thought. This was his chance to break her with punishment worse than death. Perhaps she would then surrender her crown, and he could enthrone the woman of his heart as his Empress.
"Di-Tan," he signalled the man to lean closer. "Find the mother of General Yan-Shu. Tell her I have an offer to make."
The day came. She was finally here, standing tall, donned in her royal deel, the Khan formal robe hung down on her shoulder, accompanied by two of her warriors. Altan had rehearsed her speech a hundred times over, but now the minute had arrived, she couldn't shake the deep apprehension from strangling her stomach. The fate of two countries was written on her tongue.
Baatar must have noticed the tension and patted her shoulder. "You'll be fine," he said, smiling through his mask. Because you are our princess. Altan couldn't quite see his expression, but his encouraging eyes were enough to make her feel better.
Four Chinese Imperial guards marched in front of them, towards a large, intricately carved double door before stepping aside to open it for them.
As she stepped in, there he was, sitting on his throne, more handsome than she ever imagined. The crown on his head, the golden dragon embroidered cape that hung on his shoulder draping on the floor, the scarlet silk robe that clung to every taut of his body with perfection, and how he straightened his back… he was exuding the aura of authority like she had never seen before. Altan always knew that power had always suited him well, but he had never been seen as this… attractive.
…and this was where the mistake lay.
I had given this man everything, and he left me with…ashes. Indeed, he left her with ashes, gravestones and a hole in her heart. Suddenly, standing again in front of him seemed like the bravest thing she had ever done.
"Princess Altansanrai, Your Majesty," announced one of the councillors.
She took a deep breath and began to speak, "As outlined by Consort Highness Fa, I would like the invitation to join the Honorary Council of the Middle Kingdom. But first, let me introduce to you…." She glanced towards both her men who were covered in black attire.
"These men are my Generals, Tarkhan… and Bataar." Both men bowed. When the Emperor eyed their face covering curiously, Baatar pulled his mask off as a polite gesture. "Your Majesty, it was my idea to cover our face the way we are not to attract attention."
The Emperor did not seem to be buying the whole story, but he gestured with his hand for her to go on.
"We saw that the Qin army has encamped around the Mongolian border," Altan said. "The Qin kingdom always has an impression that we, the Huns, wanted to invade at any possible time. Since the Qin Kingdom and the Middle Kingdom's relationship is better than most, I think it would be a fair swap if I joined your council in exchange for having one of your ambassadors join us. It would make a positive impression towards the Qin's leader." She swept her gaze towards the silent room.
"I have seen there is an exceptional talent among you. A woman of valour who had bravely bridged back the lost connection between two sworn enemies. One that we trusted. Thus, I request that Consort Fa stay and aid the Huns in order…"
And Shao arose. "No."
"Excuse me? Did you just reject my polite request?"
"What makes you think you can simply request my consort to live and help the Huns under your terms?"
Altan willed herself not to be riled. This was a long game after all. "I am already willing to overlook our past and pass all the massacre you did to my Generals, my people… my family."
"You forgot that you have done the same to us, Princess," Zetian interrupted. "How would our subject feel if we let go of our most notable strategist to work with the person who killed our emperor?"
"For a start, you can begin by looking at me as your ally, not adversary. And your citizens will do the same. Isn't that what leaders do? Inspiring their subject by example," Altan replied tactfully. "And what do you think I gain by killing your father? I've lost nearly everything… yet he…" She zeroed her eyes on Shao, who was still standing, eyes flashing with rage. "Why none of you pointed a finger at him who had betrayed his own countrymen and worked with a foreign princess in order to make him king?"
"Princess, the decision to attack your matrimonial tent wasn't just the decision of our Emperor. You can't possibly make this personal. Besides, it's an act of retaliation," General Zhi explained.
It's an act of revenge more like.
She stared at a lineup of Chinese Generals. There were four of them, some familiar and unfamiliar faces she met in the battles. "You are all seasoned, experienced Generals and failed to see his childish play twisting you," she said before training her eyes back at Shao. "I would like to know whether your subject knows your misgiving. That you, Prince Shao Wei, had deceptively sent the palace map and pledged allegiance to your enemy to help to get rid of your predecessor. You've murdered Emperor Xiongnu!"
"How dare you!" he boomed. Next to him, Zetian didn't flinch. She only looked down from her throne with her dark, mysterious eyes as the argument played before her.
"Yes, I dare you! I dare you to tell all of your Generals the truth! That you and I had been plotting this long and hard. We agreed that I would help you to ascend to your throne, and you'll help me with mine. But what happened when you got your side of the deal? You betrayed me instead!" There, she said it.
"Aren't you glad you don't have to marry that maniac general of yours, Shan-Yu?"
And get what? He burned the bones of her kingdom, her friends and her people. If marrying Shan-Yu was the cost, she would be willing to pay it ten times over.
"You killed my people! And you've nearly killed me! This is what power and covetousness did to you! Don't you think I don't know? That man, Li Shang, took the Hun arrow in your place. He stood by your side. He gave his life to you…. yet you make use of him. You took advantage of his abiding love and loyalty to you!" she scoffed at his silence.
"He was a soldier," he finally said. "Soldier knew his duty and place, and we honoured him as a hero."
"You sent an innocent man to his death so you can marry his widow! You manipulated him into befriending you, trusting you. Are you truly the honourable Emperor with integrity and virtue worthy of these people's lives? Never thought you could go that low."
She could bash him all day long. This was what he deserved: humiliation and shame. But Zetian rose. "Princess, that's enough!"
Master Peng was the first to leap from where he stood, swaying his sword at her, but Tarkhan eloquently blocked his attack with his spear.
"Not until you get through me, General," he said, pushing his blade against him with such power, ignoring his opponent's squark of indignation.
"You….?" Master Peng gasped, surprised at the Hun's General natural accent. "You are Chinese? You are supposed to hail your Emperor!"
"I was," Tarkhan replied calmly. "But if you simply obey orders without question to protect your master, that isn't your greatest wish but your greatest tragedy. I've done that once. But I am not doing it again!"
The cacophony inside the meeting room had attracted the attention of other royal families. But it was such chaos that Shao failed to see that Mulan, Ting Ting, Ling and Chien-Po had entered the room, standing behind the lines of Generals.
"At least I am telling the truth. Unlike your Emperor, who is an impudent liar!" Altan drew her arrow towards Shao Wei and hissed, "You know that you don't deserve to be their king!"
Shao should've been focused on the arrow, but at the mention of Captain Li, something else took control of his mind. Guilt was one of them. He was blessed with sweet children, a dedicated wife, an impossibly competent Empress, and a doting sister. He didn't deserve any of these. Truthfully, he didn't.
"Brother!" Ting Ting was scrambling forward to block the shot. The arrow scraped her shoulder. Clearly it was just an act of warning, but enough to send everyone on edge.
"Ting Ting!" The next thing he saw was Ling cradling Ting Ting in his arms, looking terrified. Something burning scorched him from inside.
"You!" he sheathed his sword, charging towards Altan, but Tarkhan stood in his way. His arm stretched, his sword sheathed. In such proximity, even when what's revealed was just his eyes, it dawned upon him who he was facing. His heart must have stopped in his chest momentarily when that familiar stare collided with his.
"You…?! You are…"
Tarkhan met his eyes. "...Alive?" he smirked and whispered. "Don't worry, this wasn't my first big act of betrayal. My ex-wife had been deceiving me too. She lied so she could have this grand affair with a nobleman," he let out a disgusted grunt. "And I heard people say how close you and I were. That we were more than just brothers in arms." Tarkhan gave him a push that nearly sent him backwards. "I guess you and Mulan really deserved each other."
Tarkhan's insolent remark triggered something. His chest burnt hot and heavy. "You don't know anything!" He jumped forward, pointing his blade at Tarkhan's neck.
"Do it!" Tarkhan hissed, eyes challenging him. "Isn't this what you want?"
"No! Stop!" Mulan suddenly appeared by their side, thankfully hearing and recognising nothing. She gripped Shao's blade with her bare hand. She held it so hard the blade sunk into her palm.
She ignored the horrified gasp of the crowd behind her. "Shao, is that true?" she asked, voice pained. "Is that true you sent Shang…"
"Consort Fa, please step aside!" Master Peng was trying to restrain her back to safety. "Your hand…" Mulan ignored the blood dripping off her sleeve, gripping the blade even harder. Her eyes were still trained on Shao Wei. "Tell me what they said isn't true! TELL ME!"
"Stand down, Consort Fa!"
"Shao, answer me!" Mulan demanded.
"Why are you questioning me?" his voice rose. Has everyone hated him? Left him? Betrayed him? Zetain did, and now Mulan would too? "After what I've done for you, for your honour sake… this is what I get?"
She was visibly taken aback by his cold reply. "I never ask you to do anything for me. Just tell me the truth!"
Shao you fool! You fool! You Fool! Can't you see? There is only one man in her heart. Him! She only pitied you! Shao closed his eyes, counted to ten and took a slow, deep breath. "I don't owe you anything."
"Consort Fa," came Zetian's patient but firm voice. "I suggest you to harken to our Lord Husband."
Mulan shut her eyes. Her countenance was still burning with hurt and anger. "My Empress, isn't asking for the truth too much?"
"Ask his comrades," Altan interrupted, gesturing towards Ling, Yao and Chien-Po. "They were there."
Mulan turned towards her comrades, trembling, "You…knew?"
Ling was on the brink of crying, "Mulan, I…"
"Leave now! You have your cue," Zetian said to the Huns with such authority. And with a subtle signal of her hand, the four Chinese Generals sprang to their stance with their swords.
"Don't overstay your welcome," she added.
"I just like to find out one more thing," Altan whispered to both of his generals' ears, who nodded and aimed their arrows.
The arrows sang through the air.
"Mulan!" Ling's worried call alerted her.
She froze there; her stare was hollow, and her eyes were wet. Instinctively, Shao jumped in front of her. But it was Yan Shu who deftly intercepted and deflected the attack as he obliterated the arrow with the swing of his sword. Meanwhile, Master Peng managed to block the other arrow heading towards Zetian with his shield. "My Empress, are you alright?"
The room erupted in chaos as the Generals from both sides took an offensive stance. Zetian lifted her hands to halt any possibility of bloodshed. "My last warning, I ask you to leave, or we might have to remove you… dead or alive."
"Very well," Altan signalled her men to stand down. "My father is right. There is no use to reason with the fool."
That night, Altan and Tarkhan sat by the fire in the woods, miles outside the city gate, watching the great mass of Baatar's back as he chopped and poured the soup's ingredients into the boiling pot. Altan put her chin on her hand. Despite his scary look, Baatar was better suited to slaughtering boar than people. The smell of garlic, onion, chilli, and fresh boiled broth was so warm and seductive. Next to her, Tarkhan cradled his warm yak milk, watching the fire dance under the cauldron.
"So, it is right then," Tarkhan began.
"About what?"
"You and Prince Shao Wei."
Altan sighed lightly, "We used to be close friends since we were children."
Baatar paused his ministration, "A close friend who blew up your matrimonial tent instead of attending your wedding?" There was no mockery in his voice, only disbelief.
"You invited him to your wedding? That jerk who dumped you for a peasant girl?" Tarkhan looked surprised. "I was wrong to think he is the only nutcase in the equation."
Altansarnai snorted. "What makes you think I invited him?"
"How can he know the time and venue?"
Altan had her theory. It was highly probable that Asanthi had leaked the information to Shao with the hope that he would come to her rescue from her unwanted marriage to General Shan Yu.
"I don't know. Anyway…it doesn't matter now."
"You had it bad for him, didn't you?" Tarkhan smirked, gesticulating at her rather intricate updo. "For a person who travelled for days to be scolded in front of those Chinese idiots, you did take a lot of hassle to dress up."
"This is my usual dress for seeing foreign dignitaries," she lied. Even days before they departed, she managed to pull every item in her expansive wardrobe and pored over them despairingly. And if the walls had eyes, they probably thought she was quite mad. She mused, stepping away from the mirror to observe the result, appraising whether she looked too striking, daring, or barbarian. But she was unmistakably herself.
He grinned. "Right you are." Despite Tarkhan's ineptitude in dealing with women, his prowess in reading them extended far beyond Altan's liking.
There was a long pregnant silence before Tarkhan popped the question, "What makes you think Empress Zetian will come? You've killed her father. How do you know she'll do what you bid her?"
"Trust me," Altan replied, "I know how to put the right bait."
Baatar chuckled as he put the ladle on the top of the pot. "That's staging you and Empress Zetian planned. That was pure genius."
To be perfectly honest, even she didn't think Zetian would agree to perform a scripted play in front of the Chinese nobility. But she did.
"She didn't look surprised when you said Shao was the mastermind behind her father's murder," Baatar added. "She knew."
Tarkhan's brows climbed to his hairline. "Really?" He gasped when Baatar gave him an extreme eye roll. "You mean…Empress Zetian was aware she was marrying her father's murderer? That takes guts…. Besides, how can any woman even agree to marry this nutcase?"
"Chinese marriages are arranged by parents… written in stars and destined by gods," Baatar explained with a tired voice. "Among all people, I thought you should know?"
Tarkhan grunted. "Thanks for the reminder."
"Perhaps the Chinese gods have a horrendous sense of humour," Altan commented off-handedly.
"Trust me, if you are desperate for money, you will marry anyone."
"Money can't buy happiness," Tarkhan replied stubbornly.
"Yeah, but at least if your husband is a hot, rich psychopath, you can get comforted by the fact that he can buy you a big house, tons of clothes, unlimited access to servants….and his jawline is nice to look at," Baatar added, sharing an amused gaze with Altan who bit her smile. "No offence, Tarkhan, I am thankful. Although you are stupidly charming but you can be insanely thick."
Altan burst out laughing at the unimpressed look on Tarkhan's face when Baatar smirked openly at his reaction to the insult.
"Well, gentlemen, thank you so much for playing along. And Tarkhan, I'd say your theatrical skill was rather commendable. Love the look on Shao's face when you confronted him," Altan patted his back. Tarkhan just shrugged while pressing his lips together.
Their little repartee was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a small sedan. They stood up, bowing lightly as the footman opened the door. Baatar and Tarkhan swiftly put back their mask on.
"I'd see that our little plan went well," Altan said, smirking when the sight of Zetian emerged from the sedan. Behind her, one of her men carried a listless figure on his shoulder. "Tarkhan and Baatar here are not the only acting prodigy. I'm impressed."
"You get what you want now. So, it's time to give me what you promised," Zetian said tonelessly.
Altan continued to gloat at the Chinese Empress' annoyed face and could not resist a little tease, "Does the little princess feel hurt that her prince chose the stray cat instead?"
Zetian ignored her question and glared at her with her hand stuck out in stubborn demand. Smirking, Altan took a scroll from under her coat and handed it uncaringly to Zetian.
"Here, we are even," Altan said, watching Zetian examine the scroll's authenticity before tucking it inside her robe and signalling the eunuch behind her to leave the body he carried on the ground. Altan stared down at the listless form of Ping, who was bound on her limbs.
"The drug will wear off in a day. The restraint is for your safety."
Altan thought it was a thoughtful move because Ping wasn't like the usual dainty women from the Chinese court. The Chinese Empress waved her hand, and her guard rushed to open the door of her transport.
"Excellent way to remove competition by the way," Altan said off-handedly.
Zetian halted her step into her sedan and seethed, "She is not my competition."
Zetian's expression clearly said she wasn't enjoying her poking fun about her relationship with Shao, so Altan decidedly asked something more pragmatic. "What shall I say about her children?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want her to run away from me because she wants to care for her children. It's a mother's instinct."
"She is a concubine. Her children are my children," she replied nonchalantly.
Altan looked down at the listless body with a faux commiserating glance. "I was wrong to think your Empress are of noble character. What a poor woman."
"Raising the children of my husband's concubine won't bring any joy to me. But as I said… I'm doing what is best for my people," and stared at her through the window. "...and for the peace between our nations, I am willing to do whatever it takes. Losing a strategist is a small price to pay."
"...sounds like you don't want her back."
"Use her on whatever you see fit," the Empress said with finality.
"Do me a favour, and don't let the Shao know about the content of that scroll, will you? Because I am quite certain he won't be very pleased," Altan said as the footman lifted the sedan.
"Since when have you had a say on what I can or can not do?" she said through the sedan window.
"Well…" Altan drawled, "Soon you'll know I have your most treasured possession. You better be nice to me."