Author's Notes:

IMPORTANT: Before reading this, please take note of a few things:

Ling and Mulan do not live in the same village

Ling's last name (in this story, at least) is Muhau {Moo – HOW} (Cause I couldn't think of any other last name)

This is the story of Mulan from Ling's point of view. Obviously, he was not in every scene, so some scenes, I will have to make up, but you will most likely see similarities.

I recommend that you watch Mulan sometime soon, if you haven't seen it in awhile, just so you know what's going on in some future chapters.

Kay, that's it.

My Friend Ping

1

It was a chilly afternoon, the sky was a light, luscious blue with a few white puffs scattered across it. The breeze swam gracefully through the air, knocking on wind chimes and making them sing. The village was its usual quiet self. Children were playing nonsense in the street; adults were trading goods with one other – typical day in my village.

I had been working in the garden, helping mother with household chores all morning. Since I had finished my duties, I decided to take a break and head into town for awhile, see what's what. Not much was going on (not much ever is) but it was nice to walk carelessly, not a worry on my mind.

It was mid-spring and the cherry blossoms on the trees were fully bloomed, sending a sweet aroma through the crisp air. I stopped to take a deep breath, when bonk something slammed into the back of my head. I turned swiftly after being knocked off balance. On the ground lay a black shoe, one much like my own. I picked it up. Yao.

I walked angrily to my friends and tossed the shoe to Yao. "Here," I grumbled. "I think you accidentally flung your shoe at my head."

He and Chien Po snickered. "So how are you this fine day, Ling?" Yao asked, trying to keep himself from laughing as he put his shoe back on.

"Just lovely, except for this aching pain in the back of my head," I growled and nudged him.

"Well maybe you should do something about that," he said, pushing me back.

"Well maybe I will!" I shouted, pushing him even harder. Almost instantly, we broke out into an all-out fist fight, and even more instantly, Chien Po came between us and held us each by our shirt collars, leaving us suspended in the air, flailing our arms and kicking our legs, though it was doing no harm to anyone.

"Maybe," Chien Po said, in his calming voice, "we should all just settle down and talk it out, peacefully." He set us down and we were quiet for a minute, glaring at each other.

"Well maybe Ling should stop being such a baby," Yao muttered.

"Well maybe Yao should stop throwing his shoe at other people's heads!" I shouted, and once again, we returned to hitting and punching the daylights out of each other. Chien Po panicked and tried to break us up, but it was no use. We were hitting and yelling, fists were flying, arms were bitten, hair was pulled – we were an absolute mess.

Just as I thought Yao was about to yank my head off, the drum of the local tower began beating with its rhythmic Bum Ba-dum, Bum Ba-dum. We stopped punching each other to death for a moment, and Chien Po took this opportunity to peel us off of each other. He took a brief moment to scold us of our immature behavior and told us to apologize to one another before we took off to see what all the commotion was about.

Bum Ba-dum, Bum Ba-dum.

We gathered around the center of town, where the rest of the village was waiting. Everyone was standing around three men, adorned in gold and silk, who sat proudly on high horses. They must be men of royalty, I thought. I spotted my mother among the crowd and waved to her to get her attention. She saw me and nodded, just as one of the men began to speak.

"Citizens!" he said. "I bring a proclamation of the Imperial City: the Huns have invaded China!" Fearful gasps hovered across the crowd as he spoke. "By order of the Emperor, one man from every family must serve in the Imperial Army."

My stomach flipped and I suddenly felt really sick.

Yao and Chien Po looked as scared as I felt. I glanced at my mother. Her face had lost all color and was resulted to a sickly grey, though she tried to look unmoved by his words.

The scrawny, wrinkled fellow (whose name I later found out is Chi Fu) began to read out names, one by one, and one by one, honorable men stepped forward. Yao's name was called and I watched nervously as he straitened himself out, gulped, and marched proudly to Chi Fu, who handed him his scroll. Yao bowed and returned to us, made no eye-contact and didn't say a single word of it.

As Chien Po's name was called, I prayed silently to myself that maybe, just maybe, they'd accidentally skip over my name, or that they had forgotten to write it down entirely. Maybe I won't have to go to war. Maybe I won't have to risk my life. Maybe I won't have the same, awful fate as my father, may he rest in peace. Maybe –

"The Muhau Family."

Shoot.

I took a deep breath. The thoughts that were barreling through my mind wouldn't settle down for even a second so I could rightfully acknowledge their being. I pressed myself onward anyway, ignoring my inner feelings that were begging me to run away, to hide under the covers, to simply forget about the outside world. I held my head high. As he handed me my scroll, I bowed honorably, and turned, in the opposite direction of which I came, passed my mother (bless her soul) and focused only on getting to the house without fainting.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The house was quiet and dark, lit only by a few candles scattered across the room. I sat on the floor, my knees pressed up against the table, my hands in my lap. Not a word was spoken between Mother and me since that afternoon. She was busy making me my favorite dinner, quietly stirring the chicken, rice, and vegetables. It smelled great. I felt awful.

She placed a hot bowl in front of me before taking her seat at the other end of the table. I picked up my chopsticks and poked at my food. I took a glimpse of her face; it was absolutely blank. She's kept that same, emotionless look on her face since this afternoon. I took a bite of my dinner.

"This is… really good, Ma," I said, trying to bring up some conversation. She sat in silence. I took another bite. "I, uh, finished building that bench in the garden… just like you asked me." Nothing. I sat awkwardly, drumming my fingers on the table. "Ya know," I said more cheerily, "Yao did the funniest thing today…" I laughed nervously, trying my best to perk up the mood.

"Ma?" I said. "Mother?" Her eyebrows drooped, and she looked as if she were about to cry. Still, she made no eye-contact and spoke no words. I was growing impatient with her. "Mother, I have to go to war." Woah, where did that come from? The sudden change in subject (and change in tone-of-voice) startled her. Seeing that I had gotten her attention, I continued: "The Emperor said so."

She stared at me with a good amount of uncomfortable silence before slamming her chopsticks on the table and storming out of the room.

"Ma!" I shouted to her. I got up and chased after her. "Mother, please!" When she came to her bedroom, she turned to me. Once more, she said nothing, but her sweet, motherly gaze was enough to get the point across before sliding the door shut right in my face.

Author's Notes

I drew a picture of that previous scene. If you would like to see it, you can find it on my deviantArt page: .com

Review please.

And comment on my illustration, if you like it.

~Teenytinyturtle5~