Wild Orchid (7 page)

S
IX

Following the dramatic events of my father’s home-coming, an uneasy peace settled over our household. Somewhat to my surprise, there was no more talk of punishment. But then there wasn’t much talk of anything, in fact. For we all quickly learned that one of my father’s most formidable attributes was his ability to hold his tongue.

When someone refuses to speak, those around him are left to imagine what his thoughts might be, and all too often the possibilities conjured up are not pleasant ones. It made no sense to me that my father did not back up his stern words with equally stern actions. Surely this was part of being a soldier. And so I did not trust the uneasy peace that came with this current silence.

But at least my outburst had taught me a lesson. Sometimes, no matter how much you wish to proclaim them, it is better to keep your thoughts to yourself. Speaking out when someone else is silent puts the speaker at a disadvantage. And so I learned to hold my tongue.

It’s difficult to know how things would have
resolved themselves without the help of two unexpected elements: my skill with a sewing needle and my father’s traveling companion, General Yuwen Huaji.

“You must not take your father’s long absence so much to heart, Mulan,” he said to me one day several weeks after their arrival.

General Yuwen was my father’s oldest and closest friend. They had served together for many years, commanding troops that had fought side by side as they’d battled the Huns. It was General Yuwen who had been with my father when word of my mother’s death had arrived.

And my father had been in battle at General Yuwen’s side not two months before we met, when his old friend had seen his only son cut down by the leader of the Huns. The fact that General Yuwen had slain the Hun leader, thereby avenging his son’s death and securing a great victory for China, had not softened the blow of his loss. After a great victory celebration members of the army were given permission to go home. General Yuwen decided to accompany my father.

For some reason I could not account for, General Yuwen had taken a liking to me, which was just as well, since my father was doing his best to ignore me. The two men had just returned from spending a week touring the far corners of my father’s estate, making sure everything was being run properly.

“And you must not mind that it takes him a while to grow re-accustomed to the peace and quiet of the
countryside,” General Yuwen continued as we walked along. “Returning here was … not his first choice.”

I had not been permitted to see Li Po since my father’s homecoming. In Li Po’s absence I often took walks with General Yuwen. He quickly came to enjoy walking by the stream, and this was the route he had chosen for us this afternoon, saying he needed to stretch his legs after so many hours in the saddle. My father did not accompany us.

“Then why did he come home at all?” I asked now. “You will be returning to the emperor’s service, will you not? Why should my father stay in the country?”

Surely he isn’t staying because of me
, I thought.

“Your father is growing older, as we all are,” General Yuwen said. His words were reasonable, but I had the sense he was temporizing, working up to something else. “This is his boyhood home. He has many happy memories of this place.”

“And many unhappy ones,” I countered. Though perhaps they could not precisely be called memories, as my father had not physically been here on the day that I was born. “This is where my mother died.”

General Yuwen was silent for several moments, reaching out to help me over a patch of uneven ground. One of my father’s first edicts had been that my wardrobe had to be improved. My tunics and pants had been banished and silk dresses put in their place. They were not as fine as if I’d lived in the city, but they still took some getting used to. They were awkward and slowed me down.

“This was a lot easier when I could wear clothes like a boy’s,” I said.

General Yuwen smiled. “I’m sure it was, and I sympathize. Unfortunately, you are not a boy.”

“I’m sure my father would agree with that sentiment,” I said, the words flying from my mouth before I could stop them.

General Yuwen was quiet for several moments.

“It may not be my place to say this, Mulan,” he said at last, gesturing to a fallen log. We sat down upon it, and the general stretched his long legs out in front of him. “But not all is as it seems with your father. He sustained a serious wound in our last battle with the Huns—”

“It’s his right leg, isn’t it?” I interrupted. General Yuwen’s head turned toward me swiftly, as if in surprise, and I felt my face coloring.

“My father favors his right leg,” I said. “His gait is not smooth and easy, as yours is, when he walks. Mounting and dismounting his horse seems to give him pain, and he always has more trouble walking after a ride.”

“You have keen eyes,” said General Yuwen. “And what’s more, you use them well. Your father took a deep wound to his right thigh. The doctors stitched it up, but still it will not heal properly.

“Now that the leader of the Huns is dead and peace has been established …” General Yuwen paused and took a deep breath. “The emperor has given your father permission to retire to his estates.”

“Retire to his estates,” I echoed. “You mean the Son of Heaven sent my father home? After all those years of service, he sent him packing, just like that?”

“There is something more,” General Yuwen acknowledged. “It is true that the leader of the Huns is dead. But he has a son who escaped, a son who is old enough to raise an army and return to fight us.

“The emperor believes such a possibility is unlikely. He believes the Huns have been crushed. Your father does not agree.”

“Don’t tell me,” I said suddenly. “My father spoke his mind.”

“He did.” General Yuwen nodded. “The trouble is that your father gave his opinion when the emperor did not ask for it. This has made the Son of Heaven very angry, so he gave your father
permission to retire
to the country.”

“I see,” I said softly.

“You must not pity him,” General Yuwen said quickly. “And you must be careful not to reveal what I have told you. That, I think, would make things even more tense between the two of you than they already are.”

“What should I do, then?” I asked, genuinely interested.

General Yuwen clapped his palms down against his knees, a signal that we’d been sitting long enough.

“The same thing I tell him he must do for you,” he said. “You must give each other time.”

General Yuwen stood and reached down a hand to help me to my feet. “Now tell me about this friend of yours, Li Po.”

“Why do you want to know about Li Po?” I asked, surprised.

“Answer my question first,” the general said. “Then I will answer yours.”

“Li Po is smart,” I said. “His family wants him to be a scholar, but I told him he could be the finest archer in all of China.”

“It was he who taught you to shoot?” General Yuwen inquired.

I nodded. “And to read and write, to ride, and use a sword. I offered to teach him how to embroider, but he declined.”

General Yuwen smiled. “But surely you knew that for him to teach you such things, and for you to learn, was risky for you both.”

“We made a pact of friendship,” I said slowly. “We promised to be true to each other for the rest of our lives. Li Po wanted to share what he was being taught, and I wished to learn. I—”

I broke off, wondering how I could make him understand. “I am not like other girls, General Yuwen. I never have been, not from the day I was born. Min Xian says it’s because my parents loved each other. That it’s because I am a child created by true love when my parents were granted their hearts’ desires. So it only makes sense that I would wish to follow my heart too.”

“And what does your heart desire, Mulan?” General Yuwen asked quietly.

“To be allowed to be itself,” I answered at once. “I wish to be neither more nor less than Hua Mulan. But I must be allowed to discover what that means. I think that is all Li Po wants. That’s what we were talking about in the tree that day. We were trying to figure out the way to know who we are, to be true to ourselves.”

“You would miss him if he went away, then?” the general asked, and I felt a band of ice close around my heart.

“I knew it. Li Po’s going to be punished, isn’t he?” I said. “My father is going to make sure he’s sent away.”

“It’s not quite like that,” General Yuwen said. He came to a halt again. Abruptly I realized we had walked all the way to the plum tree. We stood for a moment, gazing at its ancient boughs. The plums were long gone now. Autumn was on its way. Soon the leaves would change color and fall. The tree would change, as all living things do.

How will I change, without Li Po?

“Your father may be retired, but I am not,” General Yuwen went on. “Though the country is at peace, someone must still keep a watchful eye, to safeguard China. The emperor has given me this honor.”

“I congratulate you,” I said.

“Thank you,” General Yuwen said with a faint smile. He paused for a moment, his eyes on the plum
tree. “If my son were still alive,” he went on, “I would rely on him to help me. I need someone to be my aide, someone quick-witted whom I can trust, who I know is loyal.

“My son is dead,” General Yuwen said softly. “But I have been thinking of your friend, Li Po.”

“Li Po is all the things you describe,” I said, both moved and astonished. “But you would do that? You would take Li Po into your household? Give him such an important position even though you barely know him?”

“I would,” General Yuwen said. “If you thought he might wish it. The friendship of which you speak, the one the two of you share, is a very rare gift, Mulan. Someone willing to bestow such a gift should not be punished for it, nor should he be left to languish in the countryside.

“As for my trust, that is something he must earn, of course, as I must earn his devotion. But from all you have told me, I think we would both be equal to the task.”

“You would never regret it,” I said. “Li Po would serve you well. And I think that what you offer would make him happy.”

“And what about you? Would this make you happy?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly. “And no. There are times when I think I don’t want anything to change. Then I remind myself they changed forever the day my father came home. But even if he had not, I am
not so young and foolish that I believe Li Po and I could have gone on as we were forever. And since I am not, then I must learn to put the wishes of his heart before those of mine.”

“You are most certainly not young and foolish, in that case,” the general answered. “You have just given me a fine and true definition of love. I will speak to his family, then, and if all goes well, Li Po will accompany me when I depart.”

“When will that be?” I inquired.

“In about a week’s time. Now that your father has toured all his estate, I have helped him as he needed. It is time for me to return to the emperor’s service, to the court at Chang’an.”

“My father will be sorry to see you go,” I said. “Though I don’t think he’ll say so.”

“And what about you?” General Yuwen asked with a smile.

“I’ll be sorry to see you go too,” I said. And I meant it. “May I write to Li Po?”

“Of course you may,” General Yuwen said as we turned our steps toward home. “And I’ll make sure he has time to answer.”

We walked in silence for several moments.

“I would like to ask you something,” I said. “Though I’ll understand if you don’t want to tell me.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Did you know my mother?” I asked in a rush. “I’m not asking you to tell me her name,” I hurried on. “I’m just wondering if you knew her, if you would be willing
to tell me something of what she was like.”

“I did know your mother,” General Yuwen said quietly. All of a sudden he stopped. I saw him look up and down the stream, as if searching for something. “Ah, there it is,” he said. “Come with me, Mulan. Don’t worry. I’ll tell your father this was all my idea if you come home wet and muddy.”

I followed General Yuwen down the bank to the stream. I thought I knew where he was going. There was a place just ahead where the stream cut into the earth to form a deep, still pool. The banks rose up steeply on either side. A narrow path led down to a shelf overhanging the pool. From it a person could kneel and look down into the water.

General Yuwen knelt and then leaned out, gesturing for me to do the same. I gazed down and saw our faces reflected below us.

“If you want to know what your mother looked like, you have only to gaze at your own face,” General Yuwen told me.

Startled, I lifted a hand to my cheek, and saw my reflection do the same.

“Has no one told you?”

“No,” I replied. I stared at my face. The girl in the water had high, sweeping cheekbones, a determined chin, dark and wide-spaced eyes.
It is not a beautiful face
, I thought. But it was a face that others would remember. Without vanity, I thought I could determine that much.

“Min Xian used to tell me I reminded her of my
mother,” I said after a moment. “But she usually did this when I was upset about something, so I thought she was just trying to offer comfort.”

“I’m sure she was,” replied General Yuwen. “She was also telling you the truth. The resemblance is … startling.”

“That explains it,” I said as I sat back.

“Explains what?” asked General Yuwen.

“The day you and my father arrived,” I said. “My father asked me to show my face, to look up. When I did, there was this odd silence, one I couldn’t explain. But I think I understand it now. It’s because you both were looking into my face and seeing my mother’s.”

“It was a shock, let me tell you,” General Yuwen acknowledged. “Particularly since I’m pretty sure your father and I both thought you were a boy from your dress and defiance, until that moment.”

General Yuwen reached out, disturbing the calm surface of the water in order to pick out a stone. He turned it over between his hands and then passed it to me. It was shaped like an egg, made smooth by the water, the perfect size to fit in the center of my palm. I closed my fingers around it, feeling its cool strength.