42
" In the shadows, a glass slipper shimmered on her foot. She bent to pick it up.
Strange, that everything should disappear except her glass slipper.
She hugged it to her chest. Before this night, she hadn't thought magic would ever touch her life. None of this would have been possible without her fairy godmother.
She gazed at the stars twinkling above her. Somehow, she knew her godmother was listening. "Thank you so much... for everything."
Carefully, she tucked her glass slipper into her pocket. At least she would have it to remind her of what a beautiful night it had been.
Her fairy godmother's spell had been broken. Tomorrow, everything would go back to the way it was before. Her stepmother would go back to ordering her around the chateau, her stepsisters, Anastasia and Drizella, to tormenting her over every one of their needs, but she'd caught a glimpse of happiness, something she hadn't felt in many years.
Her eyes had opened to the possibility of leaving home, of dreaming dreams that might actually come true. But she wasn't brave enough to chase them- not yet. Not so soon, anyway, after such a magnificent night.
What she didn't realize was- she might not have a choice. "
― Elizabeth Lim , So This is Love (Twisted Tales)
46
" All they could do was flutter their fans and bat their eyes. The matchmaker Mother hired bragged that they were perfect porcelain dolls. What she didn't say was they had no minds of their own." Shang grimaced at the memory without looking at her. "They'd say anything to make me like them."
How familiar that sounds. Mulan put her hands on her hips. "Not all girls are like that. You have to look at it from their perspective, too. Girls are raised to be pretty and graceful, and quiet." She made a face. "They aren't allowed to speak their minds, and they don't have a choice in who they marry. My parents were lucky that they fell in love, but their marriage was arranged, too. And my mother, she doesn't even belong to her family anymore after they got married. It wasn't my mother's decision, but her family's. They told her that a woman's only role in life is to bear sons."
Shang leaned forward. "You sound quite passionate about this."
His closeness made Mulan hunch back. Remembering who she was pretending to be, she felt her cheeks burn. "I just... I mean, I bet there are some girls who'd make better soldiers than boys. If they were given the chance."
"A female soldier? That's the craziest thing I've heard."
"Girls can be strong, too."
"Not like us, Ping."
Mulan hid a smile. "You'd be surprised. "
― Elizabeth Lim , Reflection (Twisted Tales)
48
" The Huns won't be the last of China's problems. The Emperor will always face new threats, new invaders. He needs to have strong, brave men at his side. Men like you, Ping."
"Shang," Mulan said, trying again, "stop talking like this."
"Now that it's all over, now that my time on this earth is done, do you know what comforts me the most?"
He waited, so Mulan gave in. "What?" she asked quietly.
Shang lowered his voice. "That I've made a friend like you, Ping. Someone I can trust completely."
Tears pricked the edges of Mulan's eyes. This time, she didn't try to hold them back. She knew she couldn't. She swallowed, choking on her words. "Stop talking like this. It's my fault you're wounded."
"I would never have thought of firing that last cannon at the mountain," Shang confessed. "I went after you to get the cannon back, but you- you saved us. It was an honor to protect you."
How strange, then, that Mulan's tongue grew heavy. There was so much she wanted to tell him. That it was her fault he was hurt; that if only she'd been more alert, she would have anticipated Shan-Yu's attack. She wanted to tell him he was the best leader their troops could have hoped for; a lesser man would have left her to die at Shan-Yu's hands, but Shang was not only courageous- he believed in his soldiers, and treated them as part of his team. She remembered how proud he'd been during their training when she'd defeated him in one-on-one combat. The satisfied smile that'd lit up his face as he wiped his jaw after her kick- she would never forget it. She wanted to tell him that she admired him and had always wanted his friendship. "
― Elizabeth Lim , Reflection (Twisted Tales)
52
" Then, remembering that strange sword just to her side, she leaned over the mountain edge to inspect it. The hilt was dull with age, but still gold, with short wings at the base of the blade that pointed forward. It had to be hundreds of years old.
Mulan was about to leave it, but there was something inscribed on the blade itself. She could see only the first word. It was the same as in her name: Fa. Flower.
Curious now, she reached down and tried to wrench the sword free. It was stuck tight.
"Let me help." Shang knelt beside her and clasped the edge of the hilt. Together, they pulled. Out slid the sword. The weight of it nearly tipped Mulan over the mountain, but she caught herself in time and backed up away from the ledge.
Catching her breath, she laid the sword on the grass, wiping it clean of dirt and grime. The characters on the blade glittered in the moonlight.
"'The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all. "
― Elizabeth Lim , Reflection (Twisted Tales)
53
" This garden was peaceful and calm. Pink cherry blossoms and violet plum blossoms graced the sweeping trees. The petals fell like snowflakes, dancing and swirling until they touched the soft, verdant grass.
There was something familiar about this place.
Her eyes traveled down the flat stone steps. She knew this path, knew those stones. The third one from the bottom had a crack in the middle- from when she was five and the neighbor's boy convinced her there were worms on the other side of the stones. She'd hammered the stone in half, eager to catch a few worms to play with.
There weren't any, of course, but her mother had helped her find some dragonflies by the pond instead, and they'd spent an afternoon counting them in the garden.
Mulan smiled wistfully at the memory. This can't be the same garden. I'm in Diyu.
Yet no painter could have re-created what she saw more convincingly. Every detail was as she remembered. At the bottom of the stone-cobbled path was a pond with rose-flushed lilies, and a marble bench under the cherry tree. She used to play by the pond when she was a little girl, catching frogs and fireflies in wine jugs and feeding the fish leftover rice husks and sesame seeds until her mother scolded her.
And beyond the moon gate was-
Mulan's hand jumped to her mouth.
Home.
That smell of home- of Baba's incense from the family temple, sharp with amber and cedar; of noodles in Grandmother Fa's special pork broth; of jasmine flowers that Mama used to scent her skin. "
― Elizabeth Lim , Reflection (Twisted Tales)
59
" She'd grown up with few friends. She'd played with the neighborhood boys, chasing pigeons and catching fireflies with them until it was no longer considered proper. By then, the girls in the village scorned her. In front of her mother and father, they pretended to be polite, but Mulan knew what they said about her behind her back.
Ill-bred and ill-mannered.
She has the temper of a firecracker and the grace of a bull.
It's a miracle she even looks like a girl- look at the hay in her hair, and the dirt on her face. What a discredit to her mother!
The insults had never bothered Mulan too much. Back then, her mother comforted her by telling her to ignore what people said, and talking to her father would always make her feel better. And she'd had Khan for company... then, later, Mushu and Cri-Kee. "
― Elizabeth Lim , Reflection (Twisted Tales)
