Reflection: A Twisted Tale

by Elizabeth Lim

  His eyes, hard, calculating, and currently an irritated shade of yellow, bored into Mulan.

  It took her a moment to figure out why: she wasn’t bowing! Even ShiShi had bent into a deep bow at her side.

  Mulan hurriedly copied the lion. As she stared at the ground, King Yama lowered himself back down with a harrumph. His throne, a wooden chair with red-tasseled silk cushions, creaked under his massive weight.

  Mulan peeked, lifting her eyes from the ground past the nine steps up to King Yama’s dais. She watched Yama open one of the large books on his desk and resume writing in it. Two brass lanterns, shaped like dragons’ heads, hovered over his work.

  She waited as patiently as she could, expecting King Yama to address her and ShiShi, but the ruler of the Underworld kept writing.

  All day and night, King Yama works behind his desk, Mulan’s grandmother had told her. He rarely ventures into the Underworld himself.

  So far, Grandmother Fa’s story held up. Yama’s expression was severe, and he seemed grumpy that the papers and scrolls piled higher than his chair.

  He didn’t look up at them again.

  Mulan frowned. She hadn’t come all this way to be ignored.

  ShiShi was clearly thinking the same thing. The lion had furtively taken a few steps closer to King Yama’s throne, and Mulan sidled up next to him.

  “Don’t think I can’t see you,” King Yama muttered, his nose still in his book.

  Mulan’s body snapped up. “Sire, I—”

  “Return to the back of the line,” King Yama said, scribbling furiously. Ink stained the ends of his long emerald sleeves. “Your indiscretion has been noted. Everyone waits his turn.”

  “I’m not dead,” Mulan said. “And I’m not in line. I’m here to ask—”

  King Yama finally looked up from his book, thick brows knitting angrily. “I DON’T CARE,” he roared. “Back of the line.”

  ShiShi glared at Mulan. “Let me do the talking from now on.”

  With one leap, he bounded up the stairs, stopping just two steps below King Yama’s desk. “Your Majesty, you must recognize me. I am the great guardian of the Li family, the protector of the esteemed General Li before he passed into your domain.”

  “Didn’t you hear me?” King Yama pounded his fist on his desk, and the demon guards raised their weapons. “I said, back of the line.”

  ShiShi opened his mouth, which must have been the last straw—because King Yama gave a thunderous clap with his monstrously large hands.

  ShiShi froze midword. His apricot-colored tail grayed, and his mane, spiked from the flurry of danger since meeting King Yama, hardened.

  He was stone again, and still as a statue.

  “Arrogant guardian,” King Yama muttered. “The stone ones are always the worst. So entitled.”

  Mulan held her breath, her mind reeling, frantically trying to think what she should say or do now. She needed to be careful. She started to ascend the stairs, keeping her head bowed humbly.

  “And this one?” the ghost at the front of the line called, pointing at Mulan.

  Yama waved his hand. Instantly, his demon guards prepared to jostle Mulan to the back of the line.

  But Mulan was too fast. She jumped, balancing atop two demons’ spears, stepped onto one of the demon’s shoulders, and leapt onto King Yama’s dais.

  She closed King Yama’s book and rested her palms on his desk. The ghosts and demons gasped at her audacity, but Mulan didn’t care. Now she had King Yama’s attention.

  Mulan bowed her head as low as she could, unsure of the etiquette for addressing the ruler of the Underworld. She didn’t want to anger him further, but she had to make him listen. “Your Majesty, I know you are very busy, but my matter is urgent. I’m here to plead for the life of General Li’s son, Li Shang.”

  King Yama raised a bushy eyebrow. “And you are?”

  Mulan swallowed and lifted her hands off his desk. How was she to answer that? Even ShiShi didn’t know she was really a girl. Could King Yama, a god himself, see through her disguise?

  “Fa P-Ping, sire.”

  King Yama’s huffed. “Ping, you say?” He flipped through another enormous tome on his desk. “There is no record of a Fa Ping in my book.”

  “That isn’t the point,” Mulan persisted. She regained her poise. “I need you to look into Li Shang’s case. Captain Li Shang, son of—”

  “I know who he is,” King Yama said. “He suffers from a sword wound inflicted by Shan-Yu.” He glanced at an hourglass on his desk. Its streaming sands were inky black. “He’ll die in a few hours, when the sun rises.”

  He turned a page absentmindedly. “As for you, Ping. Didn’t anyone warn you that no mortals are permitted in Diyu? Your presence here is forbidden. I will make note of your transgression so the guards can see to it that you return here as a proper ghost. Do you prefer death by burning or dismemberment?”

  Mulan steeled herself. “I’m not here to intrude, Your Majesty. I’m here to bring Captain Li Shang back to the land of the living.”

  At that, King Yama set down his quill and laughed. It was a terrible, terrible laugh that rebounded across the long chamber and silenced the ghosts’ whispering and gossiping. “Back to the land of the living? Ha! You’re a funny one, Ping, especially for someone who does not exist.”

  “It’s not a joke,” said Mulan. “I’m here to bring Captain Li back. It is not yet his time to die.”

  “And who are you to decide that?” King Yama’s amusement quickly shifted into anger. “Hundreds arrive in my realm every hour. I am the one who decides whether they stay in Diyu or whether they return to Earth or rise to Heaven. Do you know how much consideration goes into making such decisions? Do you know how difficult it is to decide whether someone should go to Heaven as a reward for his good behavior on Earth, or whether he should stay in Diyu to make amends for that one time he kicked a dog or had too much to drink? Or whether he should make those amends back on Earth in a new life? There is a schedule to keep, boy, and you are wasting my precious time.”

  I can’t give up now, Mulan thought. Not after ShiShi and I came all this way.

  She’d try a different tactic. “It sounds like a terrible burden,” she agreed, thinking fast. “But an important one. Perhaps I could help you. And in exchange for my help, you might…consider letting Li Shang go.”

  “You think you, a mortal, can handle Diyu’s records?” King Yama swept his arm across a stack of loose pages. Mulan held up her hands, blocking the papers from smacking her face as Yama had intended. She caught several in her hand and placed them back on his desk.

  For such a cantankerous deity, Yama had beautiful calligraphy. It helped ease her fear of him. He couldn’t be that terrible if all he did was sit behind a desk all day writing names into his book.

  Don’t get your hopes up, Mulan.

  “I apologize,” she said. “That was presumptuous of me. But…but if you look at hundreds every hour, maybe you’ve made a mistake here and there.”

  King Yama’s nostrils flared. “A mistake?”

  “Captain Li Shang was wounded saving me,” Mulan continued, before King Yama could protest further. “If not for me, he wouldn’t be dying, and we”—she gestured at herself and at ShiShi, still frozen as stone—“would not be here bothering you.

  “But we are here now, because Captain Li Shang is a good man. He’s a brave warrior, an outstanding leader, and a loyal friend. China needs him.”

  “And China will have him back,” King Yama replied. “I have taken note of Li Shang’s courage and abilities.”

  Mulan’s skin prickled. “What do you mean, China will have him back?”

  Yama squinted at his book, tracing his finger across the page. “Ah, yes. Captain Li Shang is scheduled to be reincarnated, quite soon after his death, actually. That is why his spirit is already here in Diyu. He is being prepared for his new life. Consider it an honor.”

  “China needs him now,” countered Mulan. “The Huns
may be defeated, but there will always be threats against the Emperor—he needs a man like Shang to protect him, to protect China.” Her voice quavered. “You already took General Li. Please. Please do not take his son, too.”

  “I was not given this role because I have compassion,” King Yama said bluntly. He returned his attention to his work and scribbled something into his book. “Leave now or face the consequences. I remind you, death by burning or by dismemberment.”

  Mulan knew this was her dismissal, but she wouldn’t budge. She could hear the demon soldiers stirring restlessly behind her, and she wondered if they were too afraid to come this close to King Yama, for they made no move to force her away.

  “I came here to save Shang.” Mulan clenched her teeth. “I won’t leave without him.”

  Yama set his quill down. He looked like he was going to yell at her again, but instead, he snorted with disbelief. “You’re willing to risk everything to save the life of your captain?”

  “I am.”

  King Yama tapped his fingers on his desk. “Your determination intrigues me, Ping. More than that, you’ve amused me.” Yama chuckled, then leaned back in his chair, looking weary. “It’s not every day a mortal succeeds in entering my realm and piquing my curiosity, so I will give you a chance.” He wagged a finger at Mulan. “But that’s all. A chance.”

  A tiny flutter of hope bloomed in Mulan’s chest. She straightened, eager to hear what the ruler of Diyu had to say.

  “My realm is vast. There are hundreds of chambers and levels in Diyu. Most evoke terror and despair, but others test you to see if you are worthy. After all, most of the souls that pass into my realm are not meant to stay here forever. That is the case with Captain Li Shang. And you, eventually. You’ve risked your life to come see me and beg for Li Shang’s life. So I will give you the opportunity to do so, as a wager.” He paused meaningfully. “If you can find Shang’s spirit, and escape my realm with him before sunrise, then you will be free to go.”

  “All of us?” Mulan clarified.

  “Yes. You, Captain Li Shang”—Yama flicked his fingers at ShiShi—“and your overconfident cat.”

  “But he’s—”

  King Yama put his hands together for another thunderous clap, startling Mulan so she nearly lost her balance.

  At her side, ShiShi let out a quiet whimper. Color returned to his coat, and his eyes slowly regained clarity.

  “That…” he said with a shudder, “was unpleasant.”

  “Silence!” Yama shouted. “You are lucky I’ve relented. Annoy me further, Guardian, and you will not leave my realm. The city of Youdu downstairs could use a new statue.”

  For once, ShiShi shut his mouth.

  “Now,” King Yama said, addressing Mulan again. “Where were we? Ah yes, the price you’ll have to pay if you lose our wager.” He clasped his hands together, looking sly.

  “Ping…” ShiShi whispered, “be careful.”

  Mulan ignored ShiShi’s warning. “Tell me.”

  “My realm is a dangerous place, and those who dwell here are not…accustomed to outsiders. Should you die here, or should you fail to escape Diyu with Captain Li’s spirit…then you—the mysterious Ping with no record in my book—shall stay in Diyu as punishment for trespassing into my realm. You will be my prisoner here. Forever.”

  Forever. Mulan quailed, seeing the dismal world around her. The line of ghosts stretching endlessly, the scenes of Diyu she had seen from the Bridge of Helplessness.

  A shiver ran down her spine, but she bowed her head respectfully. “Thank you for this offer, Your Majesty.”

  King Yama laughed. “I thought you might want to reconsider—”

  “I don’t,” said Mulan staunchly. “I accept. We accept.”

  Yama blinked, taken aback. “Very well, then.”

  Yama pointed at the moon, which appeared closer here than it had outside on the bridge. “That is your clock. You have until the sun rises. Time passes differently here than up above, so be mindful. Once you can see only the dark side of the moon, your time is up.”

  Mulan looked up. The moon was round and bright, but a thin black rim already darkened its edge.

  She pushed aside her fears. She had the rest of the night to rescue Shang. They’d battled thousands of Huns together and saved China. Finding him and escaping from the Underworld was just one more battle. She could do this.

  King Yama clapped, and his lanterns floated away, illuminating a white stone archway behind his desk.

  Mulan studied the archway as she approached it. Etched into the stones were the words ALL OF LIFE IS A DREAM WALKING, ALL OF DEATH IS A GOING HOME.

  She recognized the proverb. It was one her schoolteachers had made her memorize and write over and over to practice her calligraphy. She’d never understood its meaning…but now, standing at the threshold of the Underworld, something in her throat tightened as she read the familiar words again.

  As King Yama’s throne room disappeared behind them, Mulan lingered one last moment before the archway. The faint shape of a face—much like those demonic bronze medallions on the vermilion gates—glimmered under the arch, obscuring what lay on the other side. Thick arched brows, a wide nose, puffed cheeks, and angry red-yellow eyes—King Yama.

  Mulan glanced at ShiShi and nodded. Then, with a deep breath, she took the first step through the archway. From the arch, Yama’s voice rumbled:

  “WELCOME TO DIYU.”

  Beyond the archway sprawled a dead bamboo forest. Mulan had seen bamboo stalks before: their stems were supposed to be green as grass, and straight and proud as arrows. Not gray and ashen. Not crooked like lightning bolts.

  Mulan glanced back over her shoulder. The archway had disappeared; there was no way back to King Yama’s throne room.

  “ShiShi, do you know how to find Shang?”

  “Do I look like a map to Diyu?” ShiShi growled.

  Mulan frowned, not sure why the lion was upset with her. “No, but you’re the great guardian. I thought you might know the way.”

  ShiShi harrumphed, but he didn’t reply.

  Mulan strode forward. A heavy fog misted the air, making it hard to find a clear path. The thick, crooked canes of dead bamboo were so dense she felt like she was tramping through a forest of wicker baskets. Not a cricket chirped, and not a bird sang.

  Whenever Mulan looked up, she saw the stars blink above them—like eyes. Come to think of it, some of these plants—no, most of these plants had almost human shapes. In the eerie quiet she imagined she heard whispers emanating from their hollow arms.

  She sighed. She had no idea where to even begin looking for Shang. From the Bridge of Helplessness, she’d seen hundreds of different areas within Diyu. Mirrors and fire and deserts and mountains. But here, in this desolate, gray forest—she only saw more and more…forest.

  Had King Yama tricked her?

  She had to keep moving. Or else despair would set in, and she’d lose hope.

  But that was why she had ShiShi, wasn’t it? Surely, he had to know how to find Shang. Except the lion still wasn’t saying anything. He easily matched her pace, but he was being uncharacteristically quiet. Was he still in shock from being turned into stone?

  “ShiShi,” Mulan tried again, “do you know where we are?”

  The lion huffed.

  “You’re angry with me. Why?”

  “Because that was foolish of you,” ShiShi snapped, “agreeing to King Yama’s wager.”

  Mulan didn’t stop walking. She pushed aside branches, clearing a path for the two of them. “Did you have any better ideas?”

  “If you’d just let me talk to him—”

  “He turned you into stone.”

  “That’s beside the point! What would your family think of you, gambling away your life like that?” ShiShi scolded. “And your guardian? Do you even have a guardian?”

  “I do,” Mulan countered. “But you whisked me down into Diyu before I got a chance to tell him.”

  Besid
es, she thought, Mushu is asleep…and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

  Still, ShiShi was right about her family. She swallowed. Baba will never know what happened to me if I’m stuck here forever. He might think I deserted the army, or that I was killed in battle. That would break his heart. And Mama’s.

  “Why are you so concerned, anyway?” she said, pushing her worries as far from her mind as she could. “You’re the great guardian of the Li family. Also, you should have told me you didn’t know your way around Diyu.”

  “Why would I?” ShiShi retorted with a snarl. “I served the Li family faithfully for three centuries, leading its sons to victory and bringing great honor to the family. Every one of my charges was a hero, so they never spent long in the Underworld. Ten generals, two admirals, and three military advisers to the Emperor. My track record was unblemished until General Li was dishonorably ambushed by those Huns—”

  “General Li was a hero,” Mulan interrupted. “His dying in battle does nothing to change that.”

  Some of ShiShi’s anger—and bravado—faded.

  “I know that,” he said staunchly and marched forward without another word, smashing through branches in his way.

  “Shang is a hero, too,” she said quietly.

  The lion’s face drew tight, creases wrinkling his nose. His whiskers stiffened. “Li Shang…Li Shang will perish before I even have a chance to begin aiding him.”

  “Shang isn’t dead.”

  “Not yet, but his father is.”

  The bitterness in ShiShi’s tone made Mulan soften. “You must miss him.”

  The lion growled. “What would you know about the bond between man and guardian? You’ve barely experienced one battle. General Li and I fought hundreds together.”

  “Before becoming a soldier, I was clumsy and impulsive. I didn’t know the first thing about fighting. My guardian helped me.”