Its papery leaves hiss and rustle. Usually, I find this lack of peace unsettling. This night it was precisely what I wanted.
Could Min Xian be right? I wondered. Does my father who so mourned my mother that he forbade anyone to speak her name aloud, now intend to replace her with a new wife, with Zao Xing? Am I, who have been motherless all my life, about to acquire a stepmother?
I paused before a thick stalk of bamboo and placed my hand upon it. It was smooth and cool to the touch. And suddenly, almost before my mind knew what my body intended, I leapt forward, wrapping both hands around the stalk. My weight carried is back down to earth. The leaves hissed as f in protest, the stalk strained against my hands, longing to spring free, to be upright once more. I set my feet and held on tight.
I must learn to be like this bamboo, I thought. I must learn to be stronger than I looked, so strong that I could bear a weight greater than any I had previously imagined upon my back, upon my shoulders, and in my heart. I must learn to bend beneath my burden like the bamboo does.
Unlike the brittle branches of a plum tree, a stalk of bamboo will not snap. The only way to break it is with the blade of a knife. That’s how strong, how flexible it is. And I must learn to be just like it, I thought once more. I must learn to bend, not break.
I let go of my hold, stepping back quickly as the stalk of bamboo whipped upright and then seesawed from side to side before settling into its own rhythm once more.
I do not want my father to marry Zao Xing, I thought.
If he did, surely any chance he and I might have to truly come to know and understand each other would be lost. My father would have a new life, begin a new family, and it seemed all too likely there would be little room in it for me.
“There you are, Mulan,” came my father’s voice.
I took a moment to compose myself before turning to face him, for I did not want my father to read the conflict in my face, the worry and unhappiness in my eyes.
“I went to the plum tree,” my father continued when I did not reply. An awkward silence fell. It must be settled between them, then, I thought. I had come to know my father’s silences well.
There was a silence that spoke of his displeasure, the absentminded silence, the silence that told me he was so deep in thought that he hadn’t even noticed me at all. But never before had any of my father’s silences told me he was uncertain, unsure of what to do next. I listened to the great dry whisper as the wind moved through the leaves of the bamboo.
“What is it, Baba?” I asked quietly.
My father sighed, adding his breath to the air that stirred the great green stalks around us.
“You are absolutely right, Mulan. I did come to tell you something, and now that I’m here, I don’t know how to do it.”
“Then let me guess,” I said, never feeling more grateful to Min Xian than I did at that moment. Thanks to her, I would not be taken by surprise. “You are going to marry Zao Xing.”
“That’s right,” my father said, surprise and relief both plain in his face. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t,” I confessed. “It was Min Xian. She was the one who said she could see how things would go.”
“But you can see it does make sense,” my father said, as if trying to convince us both. “To be sent back to her family like that…”
“I can see why any man would wish to marry Zao Xing,” I answered honestly. “Just as I can see why she would wish to be your wife. It will be a fine thing for her, to become a member of the Hua family.”
The only thing I could not see was where I would fit in, but this information I kept to myself.
“You will not mind too much, then?” my father asked, and here, at last, he did take me by surprise.
He is trying to break this news as gently as he can, I thought. It was a far cry from our first meeting.
“No, Father,” I said. “I will not mind too much.”
“Then you have made my happiness complete, Mulan.” My father gave me a great surprise then, moving toward me to lay a hand upon my shoulder. It was the closest we had ever come to an embrace.
“Come,” he said. “Let us return. I know Zao Xing is waiting anxiously.”
My father dropped his arm but stayed beside me all the way back to the house. And so before the month was out, my life changed yet again. I turned fourteen, one year shy of being an adult myself, and Zao Xing became my stepmother.
We tried to get along, the two of us. Honestly we did. I often thought things might have been easier if we hadn’t been trying quite so hard to like each other. But nothing Zao Xing and I did quite closed the gap between us. Nothing could erase how very different we were. It was as if we were speaking the same language but the words meant something different in her mouth than they did in mine. Try as we both might, we simply could not understand each other.
“We’ve got to do something about your clothes, Mulan,” Zao Xing said after she and my father had been married for several months. “And it’s high time you began to wear your hair up. You’ll be married yourself in just another year.”
“I sincerely hope not,” I said before I could help myself.
Zao Xing turned from where she had been fussing with the contents of my wardrobe, surprise clean on her face.
“Oh, but I thought…your friend, the one to whom you write…the one General Yuwen took into his household.”
“You mean Li Po?” I inquired. I had had several letters from my friend by now. Life in Chang’an was so full that Li Po claimed he worked from morning till night, but I could tell that he was enjoying himself. Serving General Yuwen was a great honor.
Lately, though, Li Po had written that there were disturbing rumors of a new threat from the Huns. It seemed that my father had been right after all. The son of the previous leader was rousing his people, claiming he had had a vision that his destiny was to avenge his father’s death by leading an army to destroy China. It was said he meant to attack soon, despite the fact that winter was fast approaching.
The Emperor has called his advisors together, Li Po had written, trying to decide on a course of action, to determine which of the whispers racing through the city are true and which are false.
Not even the Huns had yet tried to attack when the winter snows were this close, but it was said that the Hun leader’s vision had portrayed him and his warriors lifting their swords in victory over a field of snow stained red with Chinese blood.
The peace my father and General Yuwen had spent so many years trying to achieve could end at any time.
“Li Po’s mother hates me,” I said simply, pulling my attention back to the conversation with my stepmother. “I think I would rather die an old maid than have her for a mother-in-law.” I watched as Zao Xing digested this information. “Oh,” she said after a moment. “That is very unfortunate.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I answered with a sigh. I don’t particularly want to get married, to tell you the truth. I’d rather stay at home.”
“Do you really mean that?” Zao Xing asked, a tone in her voice I couldn’t quite read. “You would rather stay here than have a household of your own to run someday?”
“I think I do mean it,” I answered slowly. “I think I would rather stay in my father’s house, if I cannot do what my parents did and marry for love.”
I had not intended to speak of his, for such thoughts had only begun to take shape in my mind. But now that I had said the words, I recognized them for the truth. I would rather stay alone than marry as Zao Xing once had.
“But of course I will do as my father wishes,” I said. The decision of my marriage would be his, not mine.
“But if we could convince him,” Zao Xing said, abandoning my clothing to move to my side. “Together, you and I. if you stayed…If you and I could learn to be friends. I would so like to have a true friend, Mulan. Someone who could be with me when…” She blushed and broke off.
“You’re going to have a baby. Aren’t you?” I said.
Zao Xing nodded. “I only became certain a few days ago. I haven’t even told your father yet. It’s my plan to do so after dinner, tonight.”
She reached out and took my hands. The color in her face was bright, and her dark eyes were shining. She is truly happy, I thought.
“You love him, don’t you?” I asked suddenly. “That’s the real reason you married him.”
“Of course I wanted to marry your father,” Zao Xing said. “Any woman would be honored to become a member of the family of Hua.”
“That’s not what I mean,” I said. “You love my father, Zao Xing.
Don’t deny it.”
To my astonishment tears filled my stepmother’s eyes. “I suppose you think that’s ridiculous, don’t you?” she said. “That I’m not worthy, not after the way he felt about your mother.”
“Of course I don’t think that,” I said at once, and watched her tears spill down her cheeks. “And I know less about my mother than I do about you. I’ve never even heard her name.” Zao Xing let go of my hands to wipe her cheeks with an embroidered handkerchief. “So it’s true. Your father forbade anyone from speaking your mother’s name aloud.”
“Yes, it’s true,” I answered quietly. “From the day of her death to this one, no one has spoken my mother’s name, not even Min Xian, who nursed her when she was a child.”
“Your father must have loved her very much,” Zao Xing said.
“I believe he did,” I answered honestly. “But I also think…” I paused and took a breath. “I think that he loves you now.”
“Do you really think so?” Zao Xing asked, and I heard the yearning in her voice, the hope. “Why? I tell myself he does one minute, and then I tell myself I’m being foolish the next. Your father and I have been married only a few months. We barely know each other.”
“But that’s the way love is supposed to happen, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Out of nothing, growing over time.”
I took a moment to consider why I thought my assessment of my father’s feelings was correct.
“My father’s face grows peaceful when he looks at you,” I finally continued. “When he speaks, his voice sounds more gentle than it did before. I’ve never had anyone love me, not in the way we’re talking about, but if someone were to offer me these gifts, I would think they were given out of love.”
Zao Xing was silent for many moments, gazing at me with dark and thoughtful eyes.
“I wasn’t sure that I would like you at first,” she confided. “You seemed so different, so strong. I thought you would despise me for not being more like you.”
“No,” I said. “That’s not the way things are at all. In fact, you’ve got it turned around. I thought you’d dislike me because we seem so unalike. I’m not pretty, and I don’t know the first thing about dressing well.”
“Outside things are easy to learn,” my stepmother said at once.
“And as for not being pretty…” She cocked her head to one side. Then, to my surprise, she reached out to lay a gentle palm against my cheek. “I think you have more beauty than you know. The right eyes will see your strength for the beauty that it is.” I lifted one of my hands to cover hers. “Stop it,” I said. “Or you’ll make me cry.”
“So we’re agreed, then?” Zao Xing asked. She gave my cheek a pinch that made us both smile.
“I’ll tell your father about the baby tonight. And I’ll say that you confided in me, that you asked me to tell your father you have no wish to be married, to leave home. Instead you’d rather remain here with us.”
I nodded, to show that I agreed with this plan.
“You can help with the children, ride and shoot that enormous bow as often as you want,” my stepmother went on, describing my future life. “You can give the children lessons, even the girls, when the time comes. It won’t be quite like having a household of your own, Mulan, but it would not be a bad life.”
“No,” I answered. “Not a bad life.”
I wouldn’t have the respect a well-married woman would enjoy.
And the children I would watch grow up would not be my own. But I would be free to be myself, loved for who I was. Wasn’t that what both Li Po and I had wanted, right before I fell out of the plum tree at my father’s feet? Right before my father’s sudden appearance had changed all our lives?
“I gave my mother a name once,” I said. “Right after my seventh birthday, when Li Po first offered to teach me to read and write. Li Po said I should give her a name I chose myself, since no one could tell me what her true one was.”
“So I chose the most beautiful name I could imagine. A name that I could whisper before I fell asleep at night and when I woke up first thing in the morning. A name that could belong to any hour of the day or night, that would always bring me joy and comfort.”
“What name did you choose?” my stepmother asked.
“Your name, Zao Xing,” I answered softly. “I will be content to stya here if you will be content to have me.”
“With all my heart,” Zao Xing replied. “I will learn to be both mother and friend if you will let me. Someday I hope we may both speak the name of the woman who gave birth to you.”
“I hope so too,” I said.
And for the first time since I had heard the sound of horses beneath the plum tree, I felt like I was home.
ELEVEN
Less than a week later messengers sent by the emperor rode through the countryside. The rumors of a Hun attack were true. Our ancient enemy was massing in great number. In response the Son of Heaven was assembling a force to resolve the mater once and for all. A force so strong no invading army would be able to stand against it. A force that would free China from the threat of the Huns for all time.
To achieve this the emperor had commanded that every household in China send a man to fight. Recruits would meet in a great valley near the mountain pass through which it was believed the Huns would attack.
The muster would occur in one week’s time.
I do not think I will ever forget the look on Zao Xing’s face when the messenger arrived at our door. Never did I respect or love her more. I could see Zao Xing’s body quiver with the effort it took to not cling to my father, to keep her fear and despair t herself. not once did she beg my father to stay with her and the unborn child she carried.
Not once did she plead with him to not allow history to repeat itself.
Instead she, Min Xian, and I worked together to make sure my father would have everything he needed when he rode away to war.
We sewed a fur lining inside his cloak, fir he was heading north and the weather would be cold.
We made sure the leather of his armor was waterproof and supple. My father cared for his weapons and his horse himself. And all of us waited for special word from the emperor calling my father to return to his duties as a general. Surely, after all Hua Wei had done to defend China, the Son of Heaven would request my father’s experience once more.
But the days came and went, and no message from the emperor arrived. And though he tried to hide his pain at this, it seemed to me that with every day that passed my father grew older before my eyes.
Until finally the night before he had to depart arrived. By then we all knew the truth: There would be no special summons. When my father went to fight, it would be as a common soldier. This increased the chance that he would not come back alive.
We ate a quiet dinner the night before my father’s departure.
Zao Xing’s eyes were red, signaling she had been crying in private. But she sat at my father’s side and served him his dinner with her customary grace.
From across the table I watched the two of them together. I saw the way my father angled his body toward her as he sat, a gesture I think he made without knowing it. I saw the way their fingers met as she passed him dishes, lingered for a few moments before moving on to their next task.
They are showing their love for each other without words, I realized sudden
ly. And although I was sure they would do so later in the privacy of their own apartments, it seemed they were also saying good-bye. As I watched them demonstrate their love, I felt a resolution harden in my heart. It was one that had been taking shape there for many days, ever since word of the muster had come, but that I had allowed myself to clearly acknowledge only that night.
I cannot let him go, I thought.
My father had as quick and agile a mind as ever, a mind that could have been used against the Huns. But his body was growing old.
The wound that had sent him home in the first place had been slow to heal. There was every reason to suppose my father would not survive another injury. Against all odds he had found happiness. My father had a new, young wife who would give him a child, perhaps even a son.
Once Upon A Time (7) Wild Orchid Page 8
