Reflection

by Elizabeth Lim

  “Fa Zhou doesn’t talk about his son much,” Shang informed Mulan’s ancestors. “So leave Ping alone.”

  Mulan’s heart warmed. She didn’t need anyone to stand up for her, but the way Shang defended her—as if he’d personally taken the insult to heart…there was something nice about it.

  He’s just defending his friend, Mulan scolded herself. She pushed those warm feelings aside.

  “The only reason we came to his aid was because we wanted news.” Mei pouted. “And we thought helping you three might shorten our sentences here in Diyu. For good behavior, you know. Not all of us have Ren’s luck.”

  Mulan glanced at Ren, who had been strangely quiet during the whole exchange. He didn’t add anything. “I’m not going to shame the family,” she informed Mei and Liwei. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you now?” Liwei snorted. “No wonder your parents try to forget you exist.”

  Shang stiffened. “Ping is one of the brightest men I know. He single-handedly saved China.”

  “If Ping is so great, why wouldn’t Fa Zhou talk about him?” Liwei inquired. “Is there something wrong with the boy?” He flew up to Mulan. “Something isn’t right about this story.”

  “I always thought Fa Zhou only had one child,” Mei chirped. “That girl, Fa Mu…rats, I always forget her name. Fa…”

  “Mulan,” Ren finished for her.

  “Right.” Liwei eyed Mulan in a way she didn’t like, as if he’d figured out her secret. “A clever girl, at least from what her grandfather said when he passed into Diyu.”

  Mulan gulped. “You spoke to my grandfather?”

  “He stayed in Diyu for a few days, long enough to tell us some stories. He mentioned nothing about Mulan having a brother.”

  “I remember this,” Mei chimed in. “Fa Zhou had just hurt his leg in battle. Grandfather Fa told us Fa Zhou’d been discharged from the army and had promised to spend more time with his daughter.”

  Shang’s brows knit. “What about Ping?”

  “Grandfather didn’t talk much about me, either,” Mulan said hurriedly. She took extra care to keep her voice low and deep. “The family doesn’t like me very much. I was always getting into trouble—you know how things are…as a boy, haha!”

  Mei nibbled on yet another egg cake. “But he gave Mulan that dog. I remember now.”

  “Yes, because Fa Li was so sad she could not bear Fa Zhou a son…your grandfather brought Mulan a dog. He said they’d named it Little Brother.”

  Just remembering the story made Mulan’s throat tight. She’d forgotten about it until now. Grandfather Fa had passed away only a month after he’d given her Little Brother.

  “And surely, if you’ve been fighting in the war with Captain Li Shang,” Liwei reasoned, “you cannot be that much younger than Mulan.”

  “That’s enough, Liwei,” said Ren, poking his cane at the ghost. “The boy doesn’t look like a liar.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Liwei muttered. “Maybe he takes after you.”

  Mulan frowned, wondering what Liwei meant by that.

  “There is a tunnel ahead, beyond the forest,” said Ren, arching his neck high while he ignored Liwei’s comment. “Take the leftmost path always. Then you’ll have to pass a few chambers before reaching the City of the Dead—Youdu.”

  “A few chambers?” Shang said. “Can you be more specific?”

  “You’ll know them when you see them,” said Ren cagily. He folded his hands together and bowed. “May your quest be successful and bring honor to the Fa family.”

  Mei dusted her sleeves. “We hope to see you here…eventually.” She winked at Shang. “And if you end up staying, you know where to find us.”

  Liwei frowned, still skeptical of Mulan’s relationship to the Fa family. He leaned toward Shang, and said—just loud enough for Mulan to hear—“Remember what I said, Captain Li. I’d be careful if I were you. You don’t know who you can trust down here.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Ancestor Fa Liwei,” Shang said coldly. “But I can trust Ping.”

  “Fine.” Liwei shrugged. “As long as you’re sure it’s Ping. The Lady of Forgetfulness has a powerful way with illusions.”

  “That’s enough,” Ren said brusquely. “Please excuse my grandnephew, Captain Li. His many decades in Diyu have hardened him.”

  Shang gave a stiff bow. “I understand.”

  Mulan bowed, too, ignoring Liwei’s unfriendly glare. “Honorable Fa Liwei, Fa Ren, and Fa Mei. Thank you for your help. Farewell.”

  Out of respect, Mulan stayed to watch the ghosts fly off in different directions. Once they were gone, she found that Shang had already started treading through the grass.

  Apprehension swelled in her throat. He hadn’t waited for her.

  Mulan hurried to catch up with him. “We shouldn’t wander off too far. ShiShi said he’d find us. Shang?”

  Shang took a while to reply. His lips were pursed, and he wouldn’t look at her. “I’m looking for him.” He bent to examine the lion’s paw prints in the dirt. “His tracks stop here.”

  “Hey,” Mulan said, reaching out to try to touch his arm. “What’s the matter?”

  Shang pulled himself away. “Nothing.”

  “You…you don’t believe what they said about me, do you, Shang?”

  “Of course I don’t. I’m just…looking out for ShiShi.” Shang cleared his throat awkwardly, then started walking faster. He parted the three branches with his arms, making for the hills that would lead them closer to the gates.

  The captain was a terrible liar. She could tell her ancestors’ conversation had gotten Shang thinking.

  Great, she thought, her shoulders sinking. Great.

  Mulan felt her lungs constrict. She’d tried so hard for the past few months to hide who she really was. To become Ping the brave and capable soldier and bury Mulan under the facade of armor and a deep voice.

  She’d been so happy to earn Shang’s trust, and now…she’d lost it.

  And she had a feeling that even if she told him the truth, she’d never gain it back.

  Pain burst from Mulan’s ankle as she ran to catch up with Shang, but she ignored it. The captain wasn’t slowing down for her; he didn’t even look back to make sure she was still behind him.

  “Shang?” she called after him. “Shang. Please. Talk to me.”

  Finally Shang whirled around, his red cape bright against the dead foliage. “Are you really Ping?”

  Mulan winced, both from her ankle and from Shang’s question. “Who else would I be?”

  “You could be a demon. I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

  “I asked you to trust me,” she said, limping. “Remember? In the Tower of the Last Glance to Home.”

  “I trust the Ping I trained,” said Shang stubbornly. “The Ping I know wouldn’t lie to me.”

  Mulan didn’t reply. How could she? Guilt gnawed at her. Deep down, she knew he was right. She had been lying to him. But how could she tell him the truth, knowing what he’d think of her if she did?

  “Look at me,” she said. “I’m no demon.”

  Shang sighed, looking worn and defeated. “It’s just…it is odd. I’d forgotten about it until now, but Chi Fu couldn’t find any record of you either. He started looking into it during your training, but after I decided to send you home, he relinquished his search. Then everything happened so quickly.…You and the rest of the troops improved, and we were called into battle.”

  “Shang…”

  “Just tell me, Ping. Look me in the eye and tell me that your ancestors are wrong and simply didn’t know about you. I’ll never doubt you again.”

  I can’t tell him the truth, she thought miserably. What I did—stealing Baba’s conscription notice and dressing up as him—was against the law. I could be executed for high treason, and Mama and Baba would be in trouble, too. She pressed her back against the closest tree, lifted her ankle to let it rest. But if Shang trusts me, shouldn’t I trust him?

>   She slid her back against the tree until she was almost sitting on the ground. What could she say? She valued Shang’s trust. Ever since that first day she’d reported to duty, she’d looked up to him—first as a leader, then as a friend.

  And now?

  She let out a silent sigh and stole a glimpse at the captain. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the change in their friendship. He doubted her.

  She picked herself up, shuffled her feet against the dead leaves. “Who else would I be?” she said, laughing uneasily.

  “Ping,” said Shang thinly. “It’s a simple question. Are you, or aren’t you, the son of Fa Zhou and Fa Li?”

  “I’m…” Mulan twisted her hands. She couldn’t lie to him—not to his face like this. Yet she couldn’t tell him the truth either. “I’m—”

  Shang backed away from her. “All I need is a yes or no.”

  “Shang, I can explain,” Mulan pleaded, but she could see from his eyes she’d lost him.

  He snapped a thick tree branch behind him, broke it in half with his fists. She’d never seen him so angry before, so hurt. “Who are you, then?”

  “I’m…I’m—”

  His eyes narrowed. “You say my father sent for you.” Shang circled her. “But mortals can’t come into the Underworld. How are you here?”

  “I told you,” Mulan said. “I made a deal with King Yama—”

  “The ghosts said King Yama couldn’t find any mention of you in his book,” Shang said, still gripping the broken branches tight in his fists. “Have you been lying to me, Ping? Or were you never Ping to begin with?”

  “I—”

  Mulan didn’t know whether to be relieved or dismayed that ShiShi reappeared just that instant. The lion, completely oblivious to Mulan and Shang’s argument, pounced out of a thicket, landing in front of the pair with a thud.

  “I thought you two would be farther along by now,” he rebuked them.

  “This isn’t a good time, ShiShi,” Shang said through his teeth. “We’re in the middle of a discussion.”

  “No time to talk,” the lion answered. “My instincts were right. Meng Po is still looking for you, Li Shang. I found traces of her tea in the dirt not far from here. Before long, the area will be overrun with her demons. We must—”

  “Not now, ShiShi,” said Shang, seething.

  “Yes, now! She’s eluded us. She could be anything, or anyone.”

  “Even Ping?” Shang said coldly.

  “What?” The lion’s fur bristled. “What is going on here?”

  “N-nothing,” Mulan stammered. “Shang, we really should listen to Shi—” She stopped, noticing Shang’s eyes were as cold as ice. Her shoulders fell.

  Can you blame him? You’re not who you said you were.

  “Did either of you hear what I just said?” ShiShi barked. “Meng Po is looking for us. So get off your lumbering feet and run!”

  Shang folded his arms and drew himself tall so he towered over Mulan. “I’m not going anywhere until this…this imposter tells me who he really is.”

  “Imposter?” the lion repeated, standing between the two. “What is this nonsense? Come out with it—both of you.”

  “Ping’s ancestors don’t have any recollection of his existence,” said Shang.

  Mulan stared at the ground.

  “I always knew ghosts were trouble.” ShiShi dug his paws into the dirt, clearly vexed with both of them. “Ping’s ancestors probably just haven’t heard of him.”

  “I thought so, too,” Shang allowed. “But Ping is hiding something.” He glared at Mulan, and despite the hardness of his expression, there was a trace of disappointment in his eyes. “At least, this Ping. For all I know, the real Ping is still at camp watching me die.”

  “I am the real Ping,” Mulan insisted. She turned to ShiShi. “Please, tell him.”

  A low grumble escaped the lion’s throat. He looked left and right, taking in their surroundings. The trees echoed, whistling with the quiet wind. “The boy is telling the truth, Li Shang. Your father sent him to Diyu; he asked me to guide him here. I have been with him since.”

  The arrogant guardian’s face became wise and expressive, and now Mulan understood how he’d been General Li’s trusted companion for so many years.

  “If you want to doubt anyone, it should be me. I was your father’s guardian for almost thirty years, yet I was unable to protect him from being killed by Shan-Yu. Because of my failure, tragedy has befallen your family.” ShiShi lowered his head, as if the jade pendant he wore weighed him down. “I’d planned to seek you out, to protect you as your guardian next, but I was too late.”

  Shang stiffened. His shoulders drew in tight, and Mulan could tell he was trying to hold back the emotion of remembering his father’s death.

  “Do not misunderstand me,” said the lion. “There is no dishonor in falling in battle. Not in your father’s case, nor in yours. My shame is not that both of you died in battle. My shame is that I failed to protect you and your father, and I seek to salvage what little honor I have left.

  “Your friend Ping, however, is different. At first I thought he’d only promised to come to Diyu out of guilt, because you’d risked your life to save him. But I see now I was wrong about him.”

  ShiShi’s defense of her only made Mulan feel worse. The truth—that she was a woman—froze in her throat.

  “Ping is a true friend,” ShiShi continued. “Do not let his silly ancestors muddle your thinking. Have more faith, Li Shang. Ping risked his own life to come down into the Underworld. He battled hundreds, maybe even thousands, of ghosts to seek an audience with King Yama in his throne room, and even convinced Yama himself to give him a chance to save you!”

  “I know that,” Shang said, shoulders drooping ever so slightly.

  “You do?” ShiShi huffed.

  “Ping told me.”

  “Then?” the lion growled. “How can you be so ungrateful? If Ping cannot leave with you before sunrise, he will become King Yama’s prisoner for all eternity. Only a true friend would make such a sacrifice.”

  Shang fell silent. He stared hard into the ground and wouldn’t look up. His lips were drawn into a thin line.

  “Your father was the same when he was young, Li Shang,” ShiShi continued, more gently now. “He was so proud it became difficult for him to see past someone’s flaws. But he learned over time, thanks to my help.”

  The guardian inched closer to Shang. “You have your father’s pride. He was hard on you as a commander and a teacher and father, and you are his son through and through. But that does not mean you should be hard on your friends—on the people you can trust and rely on. If Ping has a secret to hide, let him hide it. He has already proven himself to be trustworthy, so he must have his reasons.”

  A shadow drifted over Shang’s face, darkening his aura’s shimmery blue light. He leaned against the tree for what felt like a long time. Finally, he lifted his head and walked over to Mulan.

  “Whatever secret you have,” Shang said solemnly, “I trust you keep it for the right reason, and I will honor that.”

  Behind him, ShiShi backed away to give them some space, and he nodded for Mulan to accept the captain’s apology. But Mulan couldn’t.

  Why couldn’t she?

  She looked up. Shang’s eyes burned with that intense earnestness she had grown to admire. That gaze ensnared her now.

  He’ll never trust me if he doesn’t know the truth. She grimaced and squeezed her fists. I can’t lie to him anymore. Even if he hates me, he deserves to know.

  She opened her hands. “Shang, you’ve never once lied to me. ShiShi’s right—you’ve been tough on me and the other soldiers back home, but it’s always been to make us a team…and to build trust among us.”

  She bit her lower lip, a habit the village gossip had once told her was unladylike and unattractive. Strange; all her life she’d striven to become a proper young woman, to make her family proud of her. These past few months, she’d spent
doing the opposite. Trying to pass as a man, a soldier.

  Her worst fear had been that she’d be caught impersonating someone who didn’t exist. She never imagined she’d tell anyone of her own free will. She swallowed. “So you…you should know it’s true. I’m not…Ping.”

  “If you’re not Ping, then who are you?” Shang asked.

  “I’m…” Mulan sucked in her breath. Her voice shook, and she worried her heart might burst out of its armor.

  She set down her sword, rubbed the sweat off her palms onto her bare arm. Then she reached for her hair and undid the knot. The black sheet of hair tumbled down, brushing just against her shoulder blades.

  “My ancestors were right,” she said, surprised by how calm her voice was. “My parents never had a son. There is no Ping.”

  She raised her eyes to meet Shang’s. “There is only—Mulan.”

  Shang’s lips parted slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, muscle by muscle, she saw the betrayal register on his face. The warmth in his brown eyes chilled, his neck turned rigid, and his lips thinned into a flat, tight line.

  “You—” Shang clenched his jaw. “That’s impossible. You can’t be a—”

  “A woman?” Mulan finished for him. She said, quietly, “I told you some girls could fight.”

  Shang didn’t laugh. His face darkened as a shadow washed out the pale blue light from his body.

  Mulan knew he wouldn’t take it well, but she hadn’t thought about the effect seeing him like this would have on her. A hard lump swelled in her throat, and her heart pounded so intensely she would have sworn Shang could hear it.

  “Please,” she said, “hear me out. It’s not what you—”

  “Why should I listen to you?” Shang said, stung. His fists curled at his sides. “You lied to me.”

  “I’m the same person.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Shang…”

  Shang flinched at his name. “Captain Li.”

  Mulan turned to ShiShi. The guardian’s head was low, so she couldn’t see his reaction to her confession. But she could guess—he wouldn’t look her in the eye, and his whiskers tilted down in a doleful expression.