13
Every time Mulan closed her eyes, she saw herself spinning through the air and felt the ground crunch under her feet as she slammed down. She saw the varied looks of the other soldiers—some surprised, some awed, some bothered. But more than anything, she saw Honghui staring at her, and it was that look that lingered in her memory. He had seemed surprised. As if he hadn’t thought her capable of defeating him. She didn’t know whether that made her feel proud, or a bit offended. Either way, his look—and the others’—now haunted her.
She still wasn’t sure what had come over her. Her body had started moving on its own. It was as though a switch had been flipped and all the training and practice had clicked into place. But there was something more to it. Something that felt deeper and bigger than her. When she had been twirling through the air, whipping her spear as though it were an extension of her body, it felt the same as the day long ago when she had chased the chicken through her family’s compound and fallen off the roof. Then, like now, she had been unable to explain what had possessed her.
And that scared her.
Now she lay on her sleeping platform, willing her eyes to close. But every time she shifted, her own body odor assailed her nostrils. She needed to wash herself—and the day—off. Swinging her legs over the platform, she grabbed fresh clothes and tiptoed past the other soldiers out of the barracks.
The encampment was quiet and empty, all of the soldiers retired to their tents for the night, so Mulan was able to move quickly. Her footsteps barely made a sound as she floated over the ground toward the lake at the edge of the camp. A bright moon in the sky above illuminated its still surface. Mulan smiled at the sight of the fresh water.
Taking a quick peek over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking, Mulan undressed. Dropping her clothes in a pile, she slipped into the chilly water.
A sigh of pure bliss escaped her lips. The water washed away the dirt that clung to her skin, and the chill felt good on her aching muscles. Sinking beneath the surface, she let the silence envelope her. She floated there, suspended between the murky lake bottom and the surface above for a long moment, her thoughts slowing. There, in the silence, she was once again just Mulan. Not Hua Jun trying to prove “himself.” She hadn’t realized how hard the act had been on her mentally until now, when she allowed her body and mind to relax.
When her breath ran out, she allowed her body to rise and returned to the lake’s surface. Keeping her eyes closed, she felt the air dry the water on her cheeks. Her hair, heavy from the liquid, made her scalp hurt and she reached for her topknot, eager to let it loose. But just as her fingers touched the long black strands, she heard a voice call out over the water.
“Hua Jun!”
Mulan’s eyes snapped open. Scanning the shoreline, she spotted Honghui. “We need to talk!” he shouted as he took off his own clothes.
Panic filled Mulan. Immediately, she tried to submerge her body while simultaneously averting her eyes from Honghui. He shed his clothes quickly and with no shame.
“I came here to be alone—” Mulan called out, splashing water as she tried to move away. Desperately, she looked around for something, anything, to cover her body.
Honghui ignored her protest. Jumping into the water, he swam toward her. “What was that today?” he said as his arms sliced through the water. “You were incredible.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Mulan said, turning so her back was to him.
Stopping a few feet away, Honghui treaded water. He looked at her with curiosity. When Mulan didn’t make a move to turn toward him, Honghui swam around to face her. But she mirrored his movements, keeping her back to him. He pressed on anyway. “Teach me how you did it. Show me.”
Mulan shook her head. “Leave me alone,” she repeated. The words came out harsher than she had intended. But Honghui was not bothered.
“Why?” he asked. “What’s wrong with you? I thought we were friends.”
“I’m not your friend!” Mulan shouted. Her voice echoed over the water, bouncing back to her. She cringed. She knew as well as Honghui that that wasn’t true. They were friends. Or at least, they were becoming friends. She peeked over her shoulder and saw confusion in Honghui’s eyes. She knew it hurt, but she was trying to protect him. He couldn’t find out her secret. It would mean disgrace for them both.
As Mulan remained silent and the air grew tense, Honghui’s confusion turned to anger. “Then look me in the eye and say that,” he demanded. Mulan did not speak. “I’m not leaving here until you look me in the eye and tell me we’re not friends.”
Mulan swallowed. She knew Honghui meant it. He would stay there for as long as it took to get her to turn to him.
But what could she do? Then Mulan saw a flash of white moving along the surface of the water. Lifting her eyes, she saw the Phoenix. The bird folded its wings and dove toward the water’s surface. She pierced the water behind Honghui with a
SPLASH!
Hearing the sound, Honghui spun around. He peered into the water, trying to see beneath the surface. But the Phoenix’s plunge had stirred the lake bottom and turned the water murky. “What was that?” Honghui asked, nervously scanning the water’s surface. “There’s something down there!” Then his eyes grew wide and he let out a shout as the Phoenix nibbled at his legs. Not waiting to see what was biting him, Honghui turned and began to swim frantically to the shore. When he reached dry land, he grabbed his clothes and raced away, not even daring a glance back.
Watching him go, Mulan breathed a sigh of relief. That had been close. She shuddered to think what would have happened if not for the Phoenix. As if on cue, the bird surfaced in front of her.
Preening herself, the Phoenix shot Mulan a satisfied smirk, as if to say,
There are worse ways a bird could spend its time
. Mulan laughed. “Thank you,” she said, her tone genuine. The bird lifted into the air and, with one last conspiratorial wink, flew off, following Honghui back toward the camp.
Mulan sighed. The Phoenix had helped her out of that jam. But what was she going to do when she saw Honghui in the morning? He would be hurt, and his resentment would turn to anger. She had only just begun to find her place in the camp. And then she had gone and done that ridiculous thing with the spear . . . and now this? She just couldn’t get out of her own way. She sighed again. She really had messed things up—and now she was going to have to pay the price.
It felt as though Mulan had only just closed her eyes when she heard the shout to wake up. Biting back a groan, she pulled herself up. Around her, the other soldiers were throwing on their clothes and armor, lacing up boots and grabbing their various equipment. Spotting Honghui, Mulan ducked her head, trying to avoid eye contact.
But the space was small, and it was impossible for them to avoid each other completely. Heading for the row of boots, Mulan leaned down and almost gasped when her shoulder accidentally brushed Honghui’s. She jumped back and was about to retreat to her sleeping platform when Sergeant Qiang’s voice boomed through the barracks.
“Hua Jun!” he shouted. Mulan snapped to attention and looked over. “Report to Commander Tung.”
Mulan walked out of the tent, but not before catching Honghui’s eye. She wasn’t sure, but she almost thought she saw a flicker of compassion cross his face. But as quickly as it appeared, the flicker faded, replaced with coldness. Her shoulders sagged. What had she expected? For Honghui to suddenly forgive her for acting cold last night, just because she was now possibly walking to her doom?
Keeping her head down, she made her way across the campground toward Commander Tung’s tent. While his rank afforded him lavish sleeping quarters, the commander had kept his space simple and modest. As she entered, Mulan noticed that the furnishings were bare, and it appeared as if the sleeping platform had never been used. Commander Tung was a soldier. Sleep would wait until after the battle had been won.
Sitting at his desk, the commander looked up as he heard Mulan approach. He gestured for her to come closer. Then, setting his writing utensil down, he put his hands flat on the desk. Mulan resisted the urge to run.
Finally, he spoke. “I’ve watched you, Hua Jun,” he began. “You train hard—your spirit is evident.” He paused, as though weighing his next words and their impact. “But something holds you back. It seems . . . you’ve been hiding something.”
Mulan felt her mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. What did he mean? What did he know? She stood there, unsure what to do. She feared that at any moment, soldiers would burst into the tent to drag her away in disgrace. “Commander . . .” she started to say.
Unaware of the impact his words had had on her, the commander held up a hand for silence. “I sensed it the moment I met you. But now I am sure,” Commander Tung continued. “You see, I have a secret as well . . .” The commander looked directly into Mulan’s eyes. “I know your father.” At Mulan’s surprised expression, Commander Tung nodded. “Hua Zhou and I fought together. He was a great soldier. In you, Hua Jun, I see the shadow of his sword. Perhaps this shadow falls heavy on your shoulders.”
Bowing her head, Mulan dared not meet the commander’s gaze. She didn’t want him to see the emotion that filled her face. He had no idea how true his words were, though they were not true for the reason he thought. Her father’s love, not his shadow, fell heavy on her. As did the truth she could not share.
Taking her silence for agreement, Commander Tung went on. “You can’t allow your father’s legacy to hold you back. You need to cultivate your gift.”
Gift?
Mulan looked up, confusion replacing her sadness. “Sir?” she asked.
“Your chi, Hua Jun,” Commander Tung answered. “It’s powerful. Why do you hide it?”
Once again, Mulan felt herself at a loss for words. Chi. The vital life force believed to flow through everyone. She had heard her father speak of warriors who possessed a stronger force than others. Warriors whose chi allowed them to be faster and braver in battle and to move with such grace and power that they could, at times, appear to hang in the air as though flying. For the commander to imply that she had such chi seemed . . . impossible. But as she stood there, the smallest of flames began to flicker. It would explain so much. The Phoenix. Her battle with Honghui. Maybe, just maybe, Commander Tung wasn’t wrong. But she couldn’t risk revealing anything special about her, or she risked revealing everything.
“I . . . I don’t know,” she said.
Sensing her struggle, Commander Tung nodded in understanding. “We will expose it. Allow it to blossom. The truth never hurts as much as the exposure of a lie.” With a nod, he dismissed Mulan.
Slowly she left, the commander’s words ringing in her head. He had not guessed her secret, but for some reason, she felt as if he had revealed something far deeper.
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