Mulan, page 10
And it was that spirit Lord Rabbit saw. When a sickness came over the Unwanted Girl’s village, her family prayed and begged the Moon Lady to send them the healer Lord Rabbit. Their prayers were answered, for soon a silver rabbit dressed in the clothing of a fine lord came riding in on a yellow tiger. Lord Rabbit was quickly able to cure all in the girl’s family, herself included, except for her youngest brother. When Lord Rabbit saw him, he shook his head.
“This medicine will not be strong enough,” Lord Rabbit said. “He is too young and needs a different medicine, one that I do not have.”
“Can you get it?” the mother asked tearfully, her hands stroking the boy’s soft, plump burning cheeks.
Lord Rabbit hesitated. “The medicine requires many ingredients,” he said. “Even with the tiger, I will have to travel to many places to get everything, and it may be too late.”
“Please try,” the mother begged.
“And even then, the medicine still may not work,” Lord Rabbit warned. “His chi is already very weak. This type of sickness is difficult on such a small child.”
“I’ll give anything you wish! You must save him!”
Lord Rabbit bowed. “I will try,” he said.
The Unwanted Girl followed him as he left, as if pulled by a thread. As he mounted the Yellow Tiger, she couldn’t help calling out to him.
“Please!” she said. “Let me come! I can help! I know I can.”
Lord Rabbit looked into her eyes and saw her powerful spirit, her strength and tenacity, but he also saw how she swallowed her tears alone at night, whispering to the moon her longing for a person to care for her or a place to belong. He did not think she could help him, but could he help her?
Slowly, he nodded, and the Unwanted Girl leapt onto the tiger’s back behind him. They traveled great distances, stopping often. And, on one of their stops, the Unwanted Girl met the White Fox.
No doubt it was because the girl was traveling with Lord Rabbit that the White Fox became interested. Lord Rabbit had never traveled with a mortal before, and it piqued her interest. Perhaps at first, the White Fox just thought to cause some annoyance for her old foe by manipulating the girl, but she soon discovered that the Unwanted Girl could be very useful to her. With Lord Rabbit unaware, the White Fox was able to slowly gain mastery over her.
It was at their last destination that the White Fox finally revealed her control. The Unwanted Girl and Lord Rabbit had traveled to the Queen Mother’s Garden of Splendors for the last herbs, and in the radiant palace of jade, Lord Rabbit pleaded to the Queen Mother herself for permission to pick the herbs.
“You do know that I am very careful whom I allow into my garden,” the Queen Mother said, looking down at them as her attendants gently waved their feather-tipped fans above her. “Visitors tend to make a mess of the place. The last time I let someone in, they left flower blossoms everywhere! And before that, there was the monkey who—”
“The Moon Lady will vouch for my honesty and trustworthiness,” Lord Rabbit said humbly, his paws clasped to his chest as he bowed his head in reverence. “I will use extreme care in the garden.”
“—ate all my Fruits of Longevity! He will now live for over six hundred thousand years! The insolence of it all!” the Queen Mother huffed, continuing as if Lord Rabbit had not spoken. She glared at him and at the bowed head of the girl next to him. “Those fruits are not to be touched. They are finally ripening again, and I will not allow them to be disturbed.”
“Your Heavenly Highness,” Lord Rabbit said, “I will touch nothing except the herb I need. We wish only to cure a child with Qi-Ruohua sickness.”
“Both of you?” the Queen Mother asked, and Lord Rabbit saw that she was looking at the Unwanted Girl.
“Yes,” the girl said, raising her head for the first time. “I wish to save my brother.”
She could not meet the Queen Mother’s eyes, but the sincerity in her voice was true and guileless.
“Yes,” the Queen Mother said, studying the top of the Unwanted Girl’s head, which she had already lowered again. “But can you save yourself?”
“Your Heavenly Highness?” Lord Rabbit was confused, as well as worried about the Unwanted Girl’s brother. Their time to save him would soon end, and every moment was precious.
“I suppose I must allow the thread to be chosen,” the Queen Mother said, more to herself than to them. Lord Rabbit cocked his head quizzically, but the Queen Mother just shook her head.
“Very well,” she said. “You may pick the herb. But only that.”
“Thank you!” Lord Rabbit said, bending his head to the ground in gratitude. “Thank you!”
“Remember, do not touch the fruit,” the Queen Mother said with an odd gravity that further baffled Lord Rabbit. “I say this more for you than for me. If you touch the fruit, my annoyance will only be the beginning of your suffering.”
So, with those strange words echoing in their ears, the Unwanted Girl and Lord Rabbit entered the Garden of Splendors. Lord Rabbit soon located the herb they were looking for, but when he turned to show the Unwanted Girl, she was gone. Where was she? Suddenly, a cold dread rushed over him, and he began racing through the garden.
When he found her, she was exactly where he hoped she would not be—in front of the Fruits of Longevity. Her hand slowly moved a fruit away from her face, its golden juice dripping from her mouth and fingers. And at the same time, a horrible screeching noise filled the air.
A force like a whirlwind swirled around the tree, plucking both Lord Rabbit and the girl from the earth. The herbs flew from his paw, the fruit bounced away from the Unwanted Girl, and a thunderous roar filled their ears. “You were warned!” the wind hissed as it threw them high into the sky, out of the garden, and over the golden walls of the Queen Mother’s palace.
They fell for quite a while, and only by Lord Rabbit’s power were they able to land softly. But though they were unhurt, all was lost. They had lost the medicine, and they had run out of time. Her brother would die.
But the Unwanted Girl’s fate was worse.
For when Lord Rabbit and the girl had been flung from the garden and they both lay on the ground, gasping from their escape, a white shape came into view in the distance. The White Fox had been waiting for them. She was smiling.
Wordlessly, the Unwanted Girl rose and walked toward her. With every step she took, the girl began to transform, and when she finally joined the White Fox at the edge of the clearing, Lord Rabbit saw clearly what had happened. The White Fox now had a servant, one doomed to follow and obey her for as long as she lived. The Unwanted Girl had become the Red Fox.
MULAN WAS haunted by the Rabbit’s story. Even after she had eaten, even after they had found the road again, even as they traveled toward the City of Rushing Water through wooded areas and hilly lands, Mulan could not help thinking of it. No wonder the Rabbit hadn’t wanted her to come; it was almost as if they were reliving the same story now. The sick sibling, the search for the medicines…but it wasn’t the same. This was different, right? Mulan shivered, thinking of the Unwanted Girl’s fate.
Evening was arriving, and the sun sent streaks of crimson light into the darkening sky as it set. Mulan slowed Black Wind, looking for a good place to camp for the night.
“Tomorrow!” the Rabbit said.
Mulan turned to look at him, his nose twitching in the air, smelling the sky.
“What’s tomorrow?” Mulan asked.
“Tomorrow we will be at the City of Rushing Water,” the Rabbit said. “I can smell the river.”
Mulan sniffed but smelled only the fir trees that now lined their path. “Should we just keep going, then?”
The Rabbit shook his head. “Best if we camp for the night and leave early. It’s hard to tell how much longer it will take, and”—the Rabbit hesitated as if embarrassed—“I’m tired.”
Of course he was, Mulan thought as she guided Black Wind to a small clearing off the path. The Rabbit had jumped across a cliff the night before and miraculously rescued her that morning. As she lifted him off her back, she suddenly realized how much lighter he was. She could feel his body tremble with every beat of his heart, feel his bones through his fine fur. He was dying, too, Mulan remembered, the gravity of his death causing a sudden ache. But she said nothing as she set him down on the ground.
They quickly set up camp; dry brush for the fire was easy to find thanks to the surrounding pines. But as Mulan munched on her dinner of dates and rice, the Rabbit twisted in his blanket like a kitten and promptly fell asleep.
Mulan sat as the fire crackled, Black Wind silently grazing in the shadows. The Rabbit looked so small and frail as he slept, it was hard to believe how powerful he was. Though, My power has been diminishing, he had said. Mulan swallowed, looking again at the wheezing rabbit, his eyes tightly shut like a blind baby’s.
Was Xiu weakening like this, too? With every shallow breath Xiu took, was her life draining from her? If only the spider had bitten her instead of Xiu! You are too strong for your own good, Ma had said, and she was right. Why else was Mulan always breaking teacups and shrine statues? It probably would have been good for her to lose a bit of her chi. Maybe it would have helped her be less bold, less rough. Maybe it would have made her gentler and more graceful and a pride to their family. Maybe it would have made her more like Xiu.
A soft breeze blew across Mulan’s face with the scent of sweet honey. Mulan straightened and glanced around. A golden light shimmered in the distance, and she heard a faint sound beckoning her, the lilting song of a swallow. Daji.
WITHOUT REALIZING it, Mulan found herself walking toward the glow, the waft of fragrant air pulling her as if she were a kite reeled in by a string. Her feet padded softly on the path of fallen pine needles, their yellow color gently illuminated. Mulan followed it into a thicket of trees lit with lanterns, and there Daji was waiting, just as she had been the first time they’d met.
“Hello again!” Daji smiled as if welcoming her to a party. She was as beautiful as ever, her lotus-petal face so radiant and lovely that she seemed to be made of white jade.
Mulan stood by the threshold and felt the familiar, infuriating speechlessness fix upon her lips. She nodded a greeting.
“How are you?” Daji asked, concern growing on her face. She beckoned Mulan over to her and Mulan came slowly, as if walking upon ice. “Oh, Mulan, you look terrible. Look at you, so filthy and ragged. You could be a beggar child.”
Instinctively, Mulan’s hand flew to straighten her hair, but Daji caught it in hers.
“You’ve been so uncared for,” Daji said, clasping her hand. “Has the Rabbit been ignoring you?”
Mulan shook her head vigorously. Perhaps she could not squeeze words from her lips, but she could at least make herself understood.
“Of course he has,” Daji said. She pulled Mulan to a covered table. Daji plucked off the draped cloth and wrapped it around Mulan’s shoulders. The rich fabric was warm and soft. Mulan couldn’t help letting the lavish folds envelop her, the silk sumptuous as it brushed against her hands.
Daji took a napkin from the table. She caught Mulan’s chin with her slender fingers, and then, as if Mulan were a small child, rubbed her face clean.
“Now you are ready to eat,” Daji said as she finished. Mulan winced at the once dainty, now crumpled cloth, grimy and grey in Daji’s snowy hands. “I have some treats for you.”
Daji stepped aside, and suddenly Mulan was overwhelmed with the rich aroma of food. A pot of tea, the steam curving from its spout like a beckoning snake. A dish of deep crimson pork, glistening in dark, sweet sauce. A plate of lychees, luscious and large, delicate and glossy in golden syrup. The table was abundant with delectable luxuries that Mulan had only heard of in stories.
“Here,” Daji said, placing a teacup in her hand. “You need some comfort after all the Rabbit’s neglect.”
Mulan felt the heat of the tea through the cup and brought it close to her face. As she looked into her cup, the amber liquid reflected her image, and she felt a small shock. Was that her? The tea’s surface showed her a lovely milk-white face, arrayed in fine silk. The girl was completely unrecognizable except for the eyes. The eyes were her own; they stared back at her, troubled and worried.
“The Rabbit didn’t neglect me,” Mulan said, her words like ripping paper. “You did.”
“Me?” Mulan could see that Daji was truly startled, as if Mulan’s voice were thunder from an unexpected storm.
“I called for you,” Mulan said, pushing her words out like boulders from a well. “On the ledge. On the cliff. I needed help.”
“Oh, Mulan, I cannot just come whenever you want,” Daji said, the charming expression on her face suddenly frozen. “And look at you now. You are fine.”
Mulan frowned. The teacup suddenly felt small in her hands, fragile and flimsy.
“Why don’t you eat?” Daji soothed. “I think you’ll feel better after you eat something.”
Daji lifted the plate of lychees with her ivory hands and offered them to Mulan. She picked up one of the fruits with her fingers, creating tiny glistening threads as the honey pulled away from the plate. Mulan froze. Honey. The swarm of bees. She brought the Scholar a plate of honeyed plums, the Rabbit had said. He had eaten a great deal of her poison.
Mulan dropped the lychee as if it were on fire. The silken wrap fell to the ground, exposing all her stained clothing, her scratched arms and dirt-caked shoes. “You…” Mulan choked. “You…”
“What is it, Mulan?” Daji said, a careful look of concern glued onto her face. “What’s wrong?”
Mulan clutched the teacup with both hands, pressing it tighter and tighter as she felt her words and thoughts collide. The delicate cup begin to crack, warm drops bleeding onto her fingers. Was Daji…was she… ?
In a swift motion, Mulan threw the tea at Daji. The liquid flew into the air, scattering like rain. Daji shrieked, raising her arm and whirling wildly to shield herself from the shower. But as she turned, Mulan saw what she was looking for. A fox’s tail.
The teacup broke into sharp pieces in Mulan’s hand. “You are not an Immortal helping us!” Mulan shouted, her voice raw and ugly. “You are the White Fox!”
Daji froze, her exquisite face suddenly pinching into hideousness. “Yes,” she hissed, “you stupid, annoying girl! Why can’t you do anything right?”
“Go away!” Mulan said, grinding the shards of porcelain to dust and throwing it as a cloud to the earth. “I never want to see you again!”
“Oh, you will see me again,” Daji sneered, and Mulan couldn’t imagine how she had ever thought Daji was beautiful. “And you’ll be sorry, too.”
With that, there was a loud clap in the air. Daji vanished in a flurry of white, and then an eagle darted up from her place into the black sky. Mulan, trembling, stared at the white shape piercing the sky and then back at the empty space in front of her.
There was a sudden rustling in the trees behind her. Mulan, bracing for an attack, spun and scanned the night gloom. Two eyes glimmered at her and Mulan saw the dim silhouette of pointed ears. The Red Fox. The Unwanted Girl.
“Hello?” Mulan whispered.
The eagle screeched above, a sharp, harsh sound of fury that split the sky. The fox-shaped shadow shuddered and then disappeared into the small silhouette of a bird. The bird shot up into the sky and Mulan watched it fly after the eagle, melting into the blackness of the night.
IN THE morning, the trees sifted the radiant light pouring from the sun. Mulan, however, did not need the sun to wake her. She had barely slept, troubled by the experiences of the night. When she had left the thicket (along with Daji’s finery and delicacies), the lanterns had extinguished, and Mulan had stumbled back to the camp, scratching and bruising herself even further. Yet, despite her exhaustion, she tossed and turned the remainder of the night, the image of Daji’s face twisted in anger returning each time she closed her eyes.
The new golden light reminded her of something she needed to do. She pushed herself up and quietly tiptoed away from the sleeping horse and rabbit. Then she took the bottle of honey out from her sleeve. It was smooth and fine-grained, its creamy color the same white jade as Daji’s skin. Mulan shuddered.
Mulan uncapped the bottle. She gently pulled the stone top off, slightly afraid something sinister would come slithering out. Nothing. Mulan peered in, but could only see blackness through its narrow neck. Bringing the flask close to her face also brought the aroma of honey. It was a thick sweet scent—rich and heavy. As she breathed in the fragrance, Mulan felt again the luxurious silk cloth, the warm tea, and Daji’s smooth fingers pressing against her hand.
A sudden rush of wind flew across Mulan’s face, pushing away the honey’s fragrance and, instead, filling her nose with bracing, cold air. Mulan shook herself, gasping as if she had been submerged in water. She looked at the bottle in her hand, dread filling her. She needed to be rid of it.
Keeping the bottle an arm’s length away, Mulan turned it over. A viscous golden stream slowly oozed from the bottle’s neck, glistening and shining. She watched it stretch from the bottle, a rope of liquid sunlight falling leisurely.
But when the honey touched the ground there was a hissing sound, like sizzling drops of water on a heated cooking pan. Mulan jerked in surprise, pulling the flask back slightly. The sibilant sound continued, and Mulan saw that the honey had burned a dark line onto the earth. Her eyes widened in horror. The syrup continued to fall and burn, smoldering into a sooty shape on the ground. The honey was poison. Daji had planned to destroy her from the beginning. Madly, wildly, she began shaking the flask empty, the burning marks spotting like black drops of blood.
When no more syrup dripped from the bottle, Mulan stared at the ground, the black splotches surrounding her. What would have happened if she had opened that jar earlier? What would have happened if she had eaten the honey? Mulan shivered.
