Mulan, page 18
He shook his head. “They wouldn’t make the Queen Mother wait that long,” he said. “I’m sure there’s some trick.”
What the trick was, Mulan would never know, though each time they rounded the stairs, she noticed that they were much higher up than she expected. Around one bend, she was as high as if she were again flying on the sail, and around another, they were stepping through snow-white fog. When they cleared the mist and climbed the third curve, Mulan could only faintly see the tops of forest through the thin gaps in the rippling ocean of clouds below.
So, in what seemed the time it would take to finish a meal, the stairs—which were now white jade veined with green—had widened to a landing. This time when Mulan looked up, she flinched from the light reflecting from a towering wall of gold, no doubt the border of the Queen Mother’s palace city.
The next landing stretched to a long ramp that led to an arched opening in the glinting gold wall. More armed guards stood at attention at the entry, nodding as they passed through. As they exited the dark tunnel, Lu Ting-Pin nudged her again. “Prepare yourself,” he whispered. “The Queen Mother likes things bright and showy.”
And he was right. Because as soon as they stepped out from the corridor, Mulan was forced to shield her eyes from the blinding brilliance she had entered.
Glistening before her was a nine-story palace of glossy jade. The eaves of the tiered, gold-tiled roofs were studded with blue gems, and the corners swooped upward like the wings of a flying phoenix. Gleaming cinnabar pillars held up the cresting verandas, with ornate, intricate designs decorating the wide beams between them. All the vivid colors glowed a radiant rainbow, and the clouds enveloping the palace were tinted ruby, amber, and turquoise from the reflected splendor. It was dazzling, magnificent, and also very intimidating.
“Are we going in there to meet the Queen Mother?” Mulan whispered to Lu Ting-Pin, with a slight panic.
Before he could answer, the blue-green jade doors of the palace opened. A cloud of song spread from the open doors and blue-clad maidens carrying rainbow banners, feathered parasols, and pheasant fans streamed out and down the polished stairs toward them.
“No,” Lu Ting-Pin said, his eyes widening with something like horror and his face blanching. “It looks like the Queen Mother is coming out here to meet us.”
MULAN THREW herself down in the humblest of kowtows, seeing only a blur of dazzling purple and gold as she dropped. Lu Ting-Pin knelt beside her, as did the rows of golden-armored soldiers.
The wind stopped its music and Mulan heard a rich, full voice say snappishly, “And what are you doing here, Lu Ting-Pin?”
Mulan cautiously lifted her head to peek at the Queen Mother of the West and almost gasped aloud. Without knowing it, Mulan had been expecting to see a dainty creature like Daji, but the Queen Mother was not like that at all.
She was beautiful, yes, but where Daji had been delicate and ethereal, the Queen Mother was strong and forceful. Lovely maidens surrounded her with pheasant fans, yet they all dimmed next to the resplendence of the Queen Mother. Her violet silk robes gleamed with gold and jewels, elaborately embroidered and ornamented. Upon her head was an exquisitely wrought gold crown, bursting with radiant light from the nine inset stars. Even so, all this brilliance could not overwhelm the Queen Mother—the fine white jade of her moon-shaped face belied the power of her black eyes, which flashed dangerously at Lu Ting-Pin.
Lu Ting-Pin gulped. “Your Heavenly Highness,” he said, “I’m only tagging along. I’m trying to help my two friends here.”
With that he pushed Mulan forward, who almost yelped in surprised.
“Hmm.” Mulan could feel the Queen Mother’s commanding gaze considering her. In a slightly less annoyed voice, the Queen Mother said, “And who are you?”
“Your Heavenly Highness,” Mulan said, her voice sounding like a mouse’s squeak in the immensity of the surroundings. Was she really speaking to the Queen Mother of the West, the queen of all the Immortals? It seemed a dream, but Mulan knew she could never imagine something so unbelievable. Her mouth was dry and she felt as if she were an ant meeting a dragon, but she knew she must continue. “I am just a mortal girl, but I seek a plant from your garden.” Mulan carefully lifted her pouch to show the Rabbit, and was glad to see that her hands were not trembling like her knees. “The Rabbit and my sister need it to be cured of poison.”
“What plant?” the Queen Mother asked, slightly suspiciously.
“The…the…” Mulan’s mind raced as she quaked inwardly. What was the plant called again? So much had happened since the Rabbit had told her…it was a long name.…“The…um…Essence of Heavenly Majesty!” Mulan almost shouted, so thankful to have remembered.
“Ah,” the Queen Mother said, looking at the Rabbit carefully. “Hupo poison.”
Mulan nodded with relief, tiny drops of perspiration forming on her brow. One of the Queen Mother’s attendants waved her pheasant fan, causing a gentle breeze.
“And why should I allow you to take this plant?” the Queen Mother said, now looking directly into Mulan’s eyes. Mulan felt herself squirming from the force of the queen’s gaze, but there was something in the look she was giving her. A bit like the Rabbit’s—slightly amused—but also something else. Suddenly, Mulan realized the Queen Mother was testing her.
“What have you done to deserve it?” the Queen Mother went on, her eyes expectant. Mulan gaped back, at a loss. Again, the attendant waved her fan, and a tip of one of the pheasant feathers drifted down. Suddenly, the hovering feather trembled and began to flutter, and Mulan saw that it had transformed to a dull brown butterfly. It landed on the bottom hem of the Queen Mother’s robe, precisely in front of Mulan. It opened its wings and, to Mulan’s surprise, revealed a shimmering pattern of vivid blue and green—the color of the sea and grass of Green Island.
“The Butterfly Fairy,” Mulan gasped, and she looked up and met the Queen Mother’s watchful eyes again. But this time Mulan sensed a hint of pride. Suddenly, Mulan understood.
“You?” Mulan gasped. “You are the Immortal who helped us! You brought us to the Butterfly Fairy’s house and put the Odd-Shaped Rock and the Stone Statue in my path. It was you!”
With that, the Queen Mother smiled at her with such a look of gratified satisfaction that there could be no doubt that Mulan was right. The blue-green butterfly flitted up and landed on the Queen Mother’s shoulder, quivering. The queen’s face softened as she turned her head toward it. “You were always one of my favorites,” the queen said gently.
As Mulan watched, she suddenly felt a heart-wrenching pang. Ba often looked at her that way, with that same tender smile mixed with sorrow; and Mulan realized it was the pain of loving someone without being able to stop their suffering. To see the powerful Queen Mother of the West, the Queen of the Immortals, with that same grief was like seeing her illuminated with light. Mulan realized that, through all the grandeur and ceremony, the queen was a being of true compassion and kindness. How foolish she had been, thinking that Daji with her simpering manipulation was a deity! Now, in the presence of the Queen Mother, Mulan felt as if she were seeing a real peony for the first time after only looking at paper flowers.
“You have done me a favor,” the Queen Mother said, turning back to Mulan. The veil of coldness had returned to her face, but Mulan was not deceived. “So I suppose it is only fair for me to return it. Though I will probably regret it, and I know the gardeners will be quite vexed, you may enter the garden.”
Lu Ting-Pin’s head popped up and he looked at Mulan with excitement.
“But,” the Queen Mother said, holding up her finger, “you may pick only one item. Nothing more. And only you can pick it,” she said, looking over her nose at Lu Ting-Pin. “Not him.”
“Can…may…he come to the garden with me?” Mulan asked.
The Queen Mother looked again at Lu Ting-Pin as if he smelled of dung. “Fine,” she said, finally, flicking her sleeve. “I don’t want him sullying up the palace, anyway. Pick your plant and then leave, and make sure you take this stupid egg with you.”
“Oh, thank you, Queen Mother! Thank you!” Lu Ting-Pin burst out, throwing himself on the ground in humble gratitude—but not before Mulan caught a glimpse of a satisfied grin. The prankster had gotten away with another joke, she realized, and Mulan wished she could see the Rabbit roll his eyes.
THE SKY was a lovely azure blue, the same color of Emperor’s robe when he made his offerings to the Heavens. The white clouds, shaped like soft, puffy steamed buns, floated gently across it. It would have been the ideal sky, one out of a painting or story, except for the two screeching birds skimming across it. Their dark silhouettes were like brown stinkbugs on a silken shirt, ruining the perfection and making one cringe.
However, no one saw them. Xianniang had lost sight of the boat long ago, but not before being impressed by the girl’s ramming it into the sea creature. Daji, of course, was more furious than ever.
“Impossible!” Daji had sputtered after they’d watched the beast bubble down into the purple-black water. But for the first time, Daji was at a loss. Even though they could now see only the straight line of the sea, Daji glared at it with a cold look of venom. For once, a smile did not creep upon Daji’s face, nor did her eyes light with wickedness. All of Daji’s schemes and tricks had failed—failed as they had never had before.
“Their luck will break eventually,” Daji said, finally, the bitterness seething in her voice. “If they make it to the garden, we will stop them there.”
“Stop them?” Xianniang asked, trying to keep her questioning tone humble.
“We just need to make sure they do not pick anything before night falls,” Daji said, her face as if carved in stone. “We will wait and watch.”
“And if they find it?” Xianniang asked.
“Then we attack,” Daji said. “And I will kill him.”
“Kill him?” Xianniang asked, her surprise overcoming her pretended timidity. Daji had never planned to outright kill someone before—that was too crude, too messy. She usually preferred to let someone or something else strike the final, mortal blow.
“Lu Ting-Pin, of course!” Daji said, mistaking Xianniang’s confusion. “Him and his silly sword! It’s all his fault! That girl would be at the bottom of the sea by now if it weren’t for him.”
It was strange how Daji kept dismissing the girl, Xianniang thought. From the beginning, the girl had overcome every trick Daji had used, yet it was Lu Ting-Pin that Daji believed was responsible. Yes, he was an Immortal—or at least used to be—but the girl was not as powerless as Daji presumed.
But when Xianniang looked at Daji, she saw the immovable clench to Daji’s jaw and the boundless fury in her eyes. Xianniang realized that Daji’s wrath had passed reason. This was not about her beloved Emperor Zhou. This was about being thwarted, something Daji was not used to, and it created an insulted rage deeper in her than any passion caused by mere affection.
Daji had not lost any of that ire even when she transformed into an eagle. Her sharp, curved beak looked as if it could swallow the sun and her scolding shriek at Xianniang’s lagging hawk shape was harsh enough to tear the sky. Xianniang pushed herself forward, trying not to let the fatigue of flying over the endless ocean slow her wings.
Finally, the Isle of Kunlun Mountain came into view. Xianniang knew it was a gorgeous paradise, but she was too weary to appreciate it—and she had long become numb to things with beautiful appearances.
Instead, she kept her eyes on the eagle in front of her. They circled around the island, and then the palace, until Daji found what she was looking for. The garden. The eagle swooped down, with the hawk following close behind. As they reached the treetops, both birds began to shrink. They almost seemed to shrivel into the air, their feathers and beaks melting away and the wings thinning and diminishing. If any Immortals on the island had happened to notice the two stray birds flying above, they would’ve shaken their heads in confusion at the birds’ sudden disappearance and decided it was all imagined. No Immortal would have noticed two extra bees on the flowering bush.
But unlike the other bees in the garden that flitted from one flower to the next, these two bees sat quietly in the purple blossoms, settled for a long wait. Would the girl come? Xianniang wondered. That girl that Daji did not even call by her name. Mulan.
Would Mulan come?
THE GUARDS left Mulan (carrying the Rabbit) and Lu Ting-Pin at the gate of the garden, another arched entry of jade topped with sweeping, gold-tiled roof. The entire garden seemed to be enclosed, as a red wall of cinnabar stretched endlessly from either side of the gate.
“In we go,” Lu Ting-Pin said cheerfully. He was in high spirits since he had received his unofficial pardon from the Queen Mother, and he almost skipped through the entry.
They passed through a small courtyard tiled with a luminous mosaic pattern of the smooth, rounded pebbles—no, not pebbles. The ground gently massaged her feet as she walked, and Mulan took a closer look to see they were pearls. Silvery grey pearls had been arranged with lighter ones to create a plum blossom motif on the ground.
But it was the moon gate across the courtyard that caught Mulan’s breath. For it was through that round opening that she caught her first glimpse of the Queen Mother’s garden. Cascading willows draped over a jade-green pond surrounded by jasper stones. Glistening lotus flowers rose through the wide, floating leaves, like shooting stars breaking though emerald and garnet clouds. Brilliant flowers dotted the greenery like scattered jewels, and multicolored birds with sweeping tails arrayed themselves on branches. The Queen Mother’s garden was truly a garden of splendors.
Lu Ting-Pin sneezed.
“All this grandeur makes me feel like my blood is flowing backward,” he complained as he ushered Mulan through the moon gate. “Let’s find this plant and leave. What does this Essence of Heavenly Majesty look like?”
Mulan halted and stared at Lu Ting-Pin. “You don’t know?” she gasped. “I thought you would!”
“Me?” Lu Ting-Pin looked back at her with equal surprise. “But I don’t know about plants and herbs! That’s Tuzi’s specialty.”
They both looked at the Rabbit, curled up around Xiu’s toy like an infant, silent and still.
“Maybe we could ask the Queen Mother?” Mulan asked, gazing back through the moon gate toward the palace. But even as she said it, they both knew they could not. The queen had granted her one favor. She would do no more. Lu Ting-Pin and Mulan looked at each other helplessly.
“It’s a flower, right?” Lu Ting-Pin asked Mulan. She closed her eyes. What had the Rabbit said? To cure hupo poison, she needs to drink a decoction of Dragon Beard Grass and a freshly picked blossom of the Essence of Heavenly Majesty.
“Yes,” Mulan said, nodding, “and the Rabbit said it had to be freshly picked to work.”
Lu Ting-Pin leaned in close to the Rabbit’s ear. “Tuzi!” he said slowly, forming each word carefully. “The Essence of Heavenly Majesty! What does it look like?”
They both bent closer to the Rabbit, holding their breath as they hoped the Rabbit would give some sort of answer. He did not.
They straightened, staring silently at the Rabbit as if they could will him to speak. But the Rabbit’s eyes and mouth stayed shut, his once gleaming fur now drab and dark in Lu Ting-Pin’s shadow.
Mulan turned to look at him and realized with horror that the sun was now directly behind him, a soft pink tint washing over the sky. Soon it would be the night of the new moon.
LU TING-PIN was also staring up at the lowering sun, his look of dismay unsoftened by the pink light. He met Mulan’s eyes, their faces mirroring alarm.
“There must be something,” Lu Ting-Pin said, stroking his beard furiously. “We just need to think!”
Essence of Heavenly Majesty. Essence of Heavenly Majesty. Mulan’s mind raced. “Lu Ting-Pin!” she said. “The name! The name of the plant!”
“What about it?” Lu Ting-Pin said, his brow furrowing. “Other than its being ridiculously long? These royal gardeners…”
“It’s a clue!” Mulan said. “They must have called it that because of the way it looks, right?”
“Yes, of course!” Lu Ting-Pin said, his face lighting up. “So, what color would Heavenly Majesty be? Gold?”
Mulan stared upward at the heavens. High above them, the amethyst sky had already darkened, deepening to violet. It was the same color as the Queen Mother’s robes—a royal color. A majestic color. “Purple,” Mulan said. “I think the flowers must be purple.”
“Of course!” Lu Ting-Pin said. He jumped up and looked around. “Let’s look for all the purple flowers and go from there. We don’t have much time.”
They headed in separate directions, Mulan walking briskly and Lu Ting-Pin hopping into the air in flight. As Mulan walked the winding paths, she became aghast at the vastness of the Queen Mother’s garden. How would they find the flower they needed? Among the elegant trees and carefully placed stones, plants of all sizes received her. Some she knew, like the azalea bushes flowering pink and the cabbage-sized peonies of garnet and snow. However, others—flowers with petals like flaming phoenix wings and multicolored blossoms of layered chrysanthemum, peony, and lotus petals—she could only blink at. All were astonishing in beauty, but none, yet, were purple.
Mulan felt her heart turn grey as the she followed the curved path through a flower-shaped opening into another courtyard. How futile this was! The garden was endless and awash with plants; they would never be able to find the Essence of Heavenly Majesty. Above, the sun began to protest its departure, the gentle pink heightening and filling the sky with vivid color. How could they have come so far, merely to fail now?
She stepped into the new courtyard, then halted. Her mouth gaped open and Mulan could only stare at what was before her.
