ShiShi stopped walking. “Your father is proud of you,” the lion said somberly. “He was your age when I came to him as a guardian. He was stubborn, just like you. Fearless, just like you. How we fought! Your father rarely listened to me, but he was a man of integrity and grit and pride.
“His death has been difficult on me, too. There is so much of your father in you, Li Shang. Every time I look at you, I see him. And that will ease the pain of losing him, a little each day.”
A glow flickered in Shang’s eyes. Mulan could tell he was deeply moved, but fighting not to show it. She touched his arm. Even though he couldn’t feel it, she wanted him to know that she was here for him, too.
“Thank you,” Shang said quietly. “Thank you both.”
According to the street signs, they’d stopped a few blocks from the Courtyard of Worldly Justice. ShiShi started moving again, but Shang pointed at a ghost gambling on one of the sloping rooftops.
“Isn’t that your ancestor, Mulan?”
Sure enough, it was. Although Ren now donned a straw hat, covering his bald scalp, she recognized his thin silhouette and religious robes.
“Ren?” Mulan called. “Cousin Ren?”
Her ancestor’s eyes widened when he saw her. Mumbling something to his friends, he stuffed his gambling tiles into his pocket and opened a fan to hide his face.
“Ren, I know that’s you.” Mulan jumped onto one of the wooden beams supporting the house Ren and his friends were on and started to climb.
Seeing her approach, Ren panicked and started to flee to the nearest roof. But Mulan was too quick. She saw he’d left his cane behind, and she used it now to trip him.
“Aiyah!” he cried. Sheepishly, her ancestor floated down from the roof. “Why, cousin Ping, what a surprise to see you here.”
Shang grabbed Ren by the collar and lifted him. “I thought you said the ninety-seventh level was the highest one you could go to.”
Ren mustered a nervous chuckle. “To be fair, Captain, it was Liwei who said that.”
That wasn’t good enough for Shang. “You lied to us.”
“Um, well…you see, Captain. It’s quite a long story.” Ren’s hands went to his neck as Shang tightened his hold on his collar. “Ack! And rather difficult to tell since I’m…choking.”
Mulan put her hands on her hips. “Let him go, Shang.”
Shang dropped Ren. The ghost again tried to flee, but Shang stepped on his robe.
“Save your breath,” said the captain. “Unless you really think you can outrun me.”
“Point taken.” Ren dusted off his robe and straightened his collar.
But now he had to face Mulan. Anger simmered inside her as she remembered how much danger Ren had put them in—by not warning them about the Cauldron, and even insisting that it was off their path! They might not have made it out in time, and worse yet, they could have been killed.
She crossed her arms. “What kind of monk are you, Ren, to lie to us?”
“H-honestly, cousin Ping,” Ren stammered, “I didn’t think you’d find me up here.” He tried to collect himself. “You see, I have an unfortunate gambling habit, and I owe Jiao over there a good sum.”
Mulan looked up and saw Jiao—the ghost with the glasses from the Bridge of Helplessness. His mouth slid into a crooked grin, and he waved.
“Many of the ghosts started to bet on how far you’d get through Diyu before being killed.” Ren rolled up his sleeves. “And I made a wager with Jiao on whether or not you’d beat Huoguai.” Seeing Shang’s glare, he cleared his throat nervously. “I bet you would, of course. Ghosts have a habit of gambling, you see. Helps pass the time. But I can’t leave this place if I have any outstanding debts.…”
No wonder Jiao and so many ghosts had tried to thwart them. It wasn’t about being angry at all; it was about winning bets!
“Let me guess,” Mulan said, passing him back his cane. “Jiao also bet that we wouldn’t make it to the top. And he said that if you misled us, he’d forgive your debts.”
“I didn’t mislead you.”
Mulan crossed her arms. “You purposefully sent us to the Cauldron when there could have been another way.”
“It wasn’t purposeful!” Ren insisted. Leaning on his cane, he took off his hat and pressed it against his chest. “I did warn you that you’d have to cross a few unsavory chambers.”
“You didn’t warn us about Huoguai,” said Shang through his teeth.
Ren winced. “I hoped you might bypass him.…”
“Bypass a fire demon?” ShiShi growled. “You must be dreaming.”
“It was the fastest way,” Ren insisted, cowering under ShiShi’s and Shang’s glares. The monk pressed his hands together and composed himself. “Besides, I had faith you would defeat him.”
ShiShi harrumphed. “Did you, now?”
Ren held his hat as a shield. “Cousin Ping,” he appealed. “You are so clever, after all. Most everyone is quite happy that you’ve vanquished him. It’ll make traveling around Diyu so much easier.”
“So now she’s a hero, thanks to you?” ShiShi cried. “You could have gotten us all killed.”
“She?” Ren repeated.
Mulan sighed. Best to come clean to her ancestor. “I am Fa Mulan. I made up the name Ping so no one would become suspicious when I took Baba’s place in the army.”
Ren drew a sharp breath. “So you lied to your ancestors. Sounds familiar.”
“She lied to do a good deed,” said Shang sharply, “not so she could pay off her gambling debts. You two aren’t the same. Not at all.”
Mulan let her hands drop to her sides. “Ren, we need your help. We need to get to the hundredth level. Do you know the way?”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” Ren said, putting his hat back on. “Truly. You see, this is where ghosts wait until they ascend to Heaven or return to Earth. You only go up when King Yama says you can.”
“We don’t have time to wait,” ShiShi barked.
Mulan was calmer. “One of the ghosts mentioned something about the Chamber of Mirrors.”
Ren made a face. “You want to go there?”
“You know where it is?”
“Everyone does. It’s in the West Pearl Quarter.” Ren must have seen the hope spark in her eyes, for he quickly added, “But don’t get too excited. Legend has it that anyone who goes inside never comes out again.”
“It’s worth a try. Can you take us there?”
“It’s a little ways away. I can show you…if you would be so kind as to, um, stop stepping on my robe, Captain Li Shang.”
Shang glared at him and lifted his foot.
Ren gulped, then started off with a nod. For a ghost with a cane, he moved quickly. He threaded the marketplace deeper into Youdu until they reached a cobblestone path surrounded by grand, gold-tiled pagodas. A line of ghosts curled outside the tallest building.
“What are they in line for?” Mulan said, half running and half walking to keep up.
“That’s the Hall of Justice,” replied Ren, gesturing at the tallest pagoda, which had a large gong swinging in the middle of its courtyard. “They’re waiting for Yama to call them to Heaven.”
At Mulan’s side, Shang looked intently at the line, but there was no sign of General Li.
Ren made a sharp right into an alleyway, then across another square and up seven steps until they arrived at an antique store with a tattered red-brown awning.
“‘The Chamber of Mirrors,’” ShiShi read on the store’s door. “This is a shop!”
“I warned you it was just a legend,” Ren replied. “Now let’s go before the shopkeeper sees us and—”
Ren never finished his sentence. The shopkeeper, an elderly man wearing a black scholar’s hat, appeared at the door. “What are you hooligans doing, loitering in front of my store? Can’t you see we’re closed?”
“We are looking for a way out of Diyu,” Mulan said. “I was hoping you could help.”
The shopkeeper tilted
his glasses up his nose and cocked his head at Mulan. “Help a mortal? Mortals are not permitted in Youdu. I’m afraid I’ll have to sound the alarm.”
“No, don’t!” Ren cried, throwing himself into the door to keep the shopkeeper from reaching for the bell inside. “Zhen, this is a special case. She’s my relation.”
At the sight of Ren, the shopkeeper stepped fully outside. To Mulan’s surprise, most of his body was covered with short brown fur—like a monkey. He even had a tail.
“Fa Ren,” said Zhen the shopkeeper with a click of his tongue. “So, after seventy-nine years you finally decide to come back and pay your debts. You owe me eight gold coins.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” Ren said. “But I’ll have the money. Soon.”
“Will you, now?” Zhen glared at the three of them, focusing especially on ShiShi. “There is no exit anywhere on this level. Now go away before I call the guards.”
Zhen spun around to reenter his shop, but Mulan caught the door before he closed it.
“This is the Chamber of Mirrors, isn’t it? All the ghosts in the marketplace said the way out of Diyu is through here.”
“Why, of all the impertinent—” Zhen growled at her, but Mulan wouldn’t let go of the door. “Everyone gets out of Diyu the same way. You die, you do your time, and then you wait by the Hall of Justice for King Yama to call your name.”
“I see,” Shang said, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “It is quite strange that a scholar should be in charge of an antique store.”
“Yes,” agreed ShiShi. “I would have thought a man of such impeccable learning would have been more favored by King Yama. You can’t earn one of those official hats unless you are brilliant.”
“Maybe he did something to anger King Yama?” Shang suggested. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t be working in this empty antique store. Look, there aren’t even any customers.”
“It’s not just an antique store.” Zhen pursed his lips, and it became clear he’d said too much. “Go away. The store is closed.”
“Look, Zhen,” entreated Ren, “don’t punish the girl because of me.”
“You said she’s your relation!” Zhen glared at Ren. “Given your reputation, that knowledge doesn’t instill much confidence in me.”
“Just hear her out.”
“I don’t need to,” Zhen said sharply. “She’s not going to pass the Chamber of Mirrors.”
“How do you know if you don’t give me a chance?” interrupted Mulan. “Please. If we can’t leave Diyu, Captain Li Shang will die.”
“And she will be trapped here forever,” Shang added. “As a demon.”
Mulan watched Zhen make a face. The possibility of anyone turning into a demon seemed to strike a chord in him. She straightened, leveling her gaze at him. “So, I ask you…is the Chamber of Mirrors the way out of Diyu?”
Zhen tapped his fingers on the end of his tail. “I’ve heard about your story, soldier. You and your friends battled many demons to get here—even defeated Huoguai. But in the Chamber of Mirrors, you only battle the demons within.” He poked her in the arm. “Very few have come out alive, least of all victorious.”
A chill rippled down Mulan’s spine. A battle against herself? How could that even be possible?
“I want to go in,” she said, determined.
Zhen peered at her. She stared back, unwilling to give up.
“Interesting.” Finally, the shopkeeper let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “Fine, I’ll let you inside. But be warned…the chamber was constructed with powerful magic. It will only let you out when it deems you are ready.”
Mulan nodded, and Zhen widened the door behind him a notch so she could slip inside.
“Only she can pass,” Zhen said, blocking Shang and ShiShi from entering.
“I’m going with her,” insisted Shang.
Zhen shook his head. “Apologies, Captain, but these are the rules. There’s an inn down the street that makes quite passable soup dumplings and serves spirits as well as guardians. You’ll have a while to stay, I understand.”
“It’ll be fine,” Mulan reassured him.
“I don’t like this,” said Shang. “What if it’s a trick?”
“It isn’t.”
“No weapons,” Zhen said brusquely, gesturing at the sword hanging at her side.
She swallowed and untied her sword, placing it in Zhen’s waiting hands.
“You should say your goodbyes,” he said, unsmiling.
Mulan frowned and faced ShiShi, Ren, and Shang. The captain’s teeth were gritted, and his fists clenched.
“I’ll see you soon,” she said, her gaze lingering a touch longer on Shang. I hope.
Without another word, Mulan slid open the wooden door and went inside.
Her heart hammering, she entered the Chamber of Mirrors. Faint bursts of light flickered above her, dancing in a soft wave—like those lights she had seen on the Bridge of Helplessness!
As soon as she reached up to try to touch the lights, the door thudded behind her and locked with a click.
She whirled around.
Zhen was gone. So was the door she’d just entered. And the lights that had welcomed her into the chamber vanished, plunging her deep into darkness.
She was trapped.
Trying to remain calm, Mulan took three careful steps deeper into the chamber. So far, there were no hissing rocks, sprawling trees, or golden pavilions in the distance. No, for once the chamber was an actual room, one long and hollow enough for the sound of her footsteps and breathing to echo when she moved. Except, from the looks of it, there was no way out.
Seconds passed, and her apprehension grew. Inside the chamber was dark as a winter’s night, so she couldn’t tell how large or deep it was. She blindly stretched out her hands, walking until she touched a wall. It was smooth and cold, like glass. She bent down. The floor was glass, too.
Mirrors, she realized as her sight slowly adjusted to the dark. Mirrors surrounded her from the ceiling to the walls to the floor. Yet not one of them reflected her.
Come in, the mirrors whispered. Come closer. Closer.
“Who are you?” she said aloud. “Show yourself. I’m ready.”
The voices laughed, then grew in strength and number. Are you, now?
No one is ready. Not even you, Fa Mulan.
Mulan spun. There was no one in the room with her. Only herself—and the mirrors.
She grimaced. Was this a game?
“Where are you?”
Inside, the voices beckoned. Come closer. Look into our eyes. Then we can begin.
She couldn’t pinpoint any particular mirror the voices were coming from, but a soft brown light emanated from one to her left. It was shaped like a tomb and reminded Mulan of the graves in her family’s ancestral temple. A thin stripe of bronze embellished the edges of the mirror, and as she approached, the glass clouded and swirled.
Mulan’s father appeared. He leaned on his cane, and when he saw her, his brows knit together in surprise and confusion. “Ah, Mulan. You’ve returned from the war.”
Mulan stiffened. Another illusion. Her pulse quickened, remembering how easy it’d been for her to fall for Meng Po’s deception. How she’d yearned to make her family proud of her, even if it had been an illusion.
Not this time, she said, steeling herself to face the reflection of Fa Zhou. This time, she’d play along. But she wouldn’t forget. “Yes, Father.”
“And?” Fa Zhou leaned forward on his cane. The gray patches of hair along his temples were whiter than Mulan remembered. “What have you to say to us?”
“The Huns are defeated. The Emperor is safe.” Mulan bowed. “I return, your obedient daughter.”
“Obedient?” Fa Zhou’s narrow face tightened into a frown. “Your mother thought you had perished in battle.”
Mulan’s shoulders dropped. She’d imagined this conversation with her family countless times. She’d pictured the day she returned home from
war—would her father be proud of her? Or would he be disappointed that she’d deceived him? Some nights, she couldn’t sleep for the worry that her father would look at her the way this false Fa Zhou looked at her now.
As if no one in the world could have disappointed him so much.
Don’t let him get to you, she reminded herself. Just play along.
“I didn’t,” she said quietly.
“You show yourself here, unannounced, after leaving without a word. After stealing my armor and taking my place in the army. Given what you have done, what makes you think your mother and I would accept you back into this family?”
“I was trying to save you.”
“It would have been better if you had let me go.”
“You would have died!”
Fa Zhou pounded his cane on the ground. “Better I die with honor than live with the disgrace my only child has brought upon this house.”
His words stung, even though Mulan knew this was all magic, just an illusion of her father that the Chamber of Mirrors wanted her to see.
She stormed toward the walls, trying to find a way out. No matter where she turned, Fa Zhou followed her, appearing in the glass. She couldn’t escape him.
“These are lies,” she said. “My father would never say this.”
Wouldn’t he? the voices from the glass whispered. They were in her mind now. Oh, how her head throbbed. The question tugged at her heart.
“He wouldn’t.” She shook her head, recalling her last day at home. It’d been burned into her memory. After failing her examination with the Matchmaker, she’d gone to the garden to be alone. She’d been inconsolable until her father found her and sat next to her.
My, my, what beautiful blooms we have this year, he’d remarked. But look, this one is late. I bet when it blooms, it will be the most beautiful of all.
Her father always knew how to comfort her. Mulan still repeated those words to herself sometimes.
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