Mulan - 2
Then he smiled—the small, crooked smile she had fallen in love with.
But Mulan had watched the princesses practice swordplay behind the pavilion tents. She had heard Ting-Ting whisper about the baker’s son she truly loved. She had seen Su cry into her sleeve when she thought no one was looking.
“I would have you look at their faces,” she said. “Not at the treaty lines on a map.”
The mission was supposed to be simple: escort Princesses Mei, Ting-Ting, and Su to their arranged marriages in the Kingdom of Qui Gong. Unite the lands. End a generation of tension. Mulan 2
“The good of China,” she repeated. The phrase tasted like ash. She had once believed in orders without question. Then she had dressed as a man, climbed a mountain of corpses, and learned that honor was not always found in obedience.
“I’m thinking,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“How much do you want this?” she asked them directly. Then he smiled—the small, crooked smile she had
She should have been happy. She had a general’s rank, a prince’s heart, and a mission to deliver three princesses to a peace treaty.
Silence. Then Ting-Ting whispered, “I don’t even know their names.”
Mei blinked. “The treaty? It’s our duty.” She had seen Su cry into her sleeve
Shang reached for his sword.
Mulan turned to Shang. His expression was unreadable—general to general, husband to wife.
“What would you have me do?” he asked. “Start a war to prevent a peace?”
“Not the treaty,” Mulan said. “The men you’re being sent to. Do you love them?”