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Mulan looked at her sister. Xiu’s face was still innocent and full of hope, and while Mulan wanted nothing more than to wallow in her own self-pity for a few more moments, she had never been able to say no to Xiu. She was powerless against her sister’s huge heart. And so she slowly began to nod. “Yes, it is black. With red spots,” she said, warming to the idea as she continued. “And I’m sorry to say that it’s unusually hairy. And it’s crawling toward your neck right now!” She reached out her fingers and ran them up and down Xiu’s neck.

In response, Xiu shrieked. As Mulan’s frown faded completely, she allowed herself a smile. Her mother might not be sure where she fit in the larger world, but right now, Mulan cared more about making her sister laugh and enjoying the moment.

There would be plenty of time to worry about her future—later.

Unfortunately, later didn’t prove to be later enough. Waking from a terrible nightmare in which she was running from a human-sized chicken, Mulan sat up in her bed, her heart pounding. Outside, beams of moonlight illuminated the night. Mulan got up and walked to the window and looked out into the courtyard below.

In the center, the ancestral shrine stood glowing in white beams of light. A few candles burned weakly, just enough to throw shadows over the phoenix statue—and its missing wing.

<i>

Maybe,

</i>

Mulan thought,

<i>

I could fix everything�6�2.�6�2.�6�2. if I fixed the phoenix.

</i>

Tiptoeing out of her room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, she reached into the cupboard and pulled out a big bowl and grinding stone. Moving to the table, she set them down before filling the bowl with the leftover sticky rice from their evening meal. As quietly as she could, she began to grind the rice. The large grains quickly turned to mush, and soon it had become a thick, sticky paste. Satisfied, Mulan picked up the bowl and moved outside.

As she left the house, a cloud drifted across the moon, casting the courtyard and shrine into sudden darkness. For a moment, Mulan stopped. Perhaps she should just let things be; maybe she had done enough damage as it was. But then the cloud moved, and once more the shrine grew bright. The phoenix, always frozen as if about to rise from the ashes, looked hobbled with only one wing. Mulan nodded to herself. She would fix what she had broken.

Walking inside the shrine, Mulan kneeled on the ground. Then she lifted the broken wing and placed it on her lap. Slowly and carefully, she spread the thick paste on the edge of the wing. When the entire side was coated, she stood and walked over to the statue. Reaching up, she reattached the wing to the body. She stood still, her fingers turning white as she kept pressure between the two points on the bird, hoping to seal the bond. When she was sure it had been long enough, she ever so slowly, finger by finger, took her hands away.

Mulan waited, watching to see if the wing would hold.

Hearing footsteps, Mulan kept her eyes locked on the bird. A moment later, she felt her father step beside her. His eyes went to the bird, too. The pair stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Mulan,” Zhou finally said. His voice was hushed, but firm. “What happened today, I never want to see happen again.” He paused, turning so that he was looking at her. When Mulan didn’t meet his eyes, he reached out and put a finger underneath her chin to lift her head. “Do you understand?” he asked.

Taking a deep breath, Mulan nodded. Her father smiled but disappointment lingered in his eyes. Mulan hated to see that. His eyes had ever only been filled with kindness and admiration when he looked down at her. Pulling her head free, unable to bear the look any longer, Mulan turned her gaze back to the phoenix. As she watched, the wing began to slide off.

Mulan’s eyes filled with tears as the permanence of what she had done hit her.

Not speaking, Zhou reached up and, with some difficulty, pressed the wing back into place. “Do you know why the Phoenix sits at the right hand of the Emperor?” he asked, not taking his eyes from the bird. Mulan shook her head. “She is his guardian. His protector.”

“But I broke her,” Mulan whispered.

Zhou nodded. “Ah, but did you know she is half male and half female? She is both beautiful and strong.” He stopped and once more looked into Mulan’s eyes. Only now, the disappointment was gone. “Failure is not fatal, Mulan. This is the lesson of the Phoenix. What matters is that each day you rise up and continue. The Phoenix will watch over you. That’s her job. Your job is to bring honor to your family. Do you think you can do that?”

Mulan looked at her father. She had never heard the lesson of the Phoenix said in such a way. True, she had been taught that the Phoenix protected the Emperor. But watch over her? That was different. If the mythical bird could offer protection, the least Mulan could do was offer a sacrifice to her own family. If that meant following her sister’s lead and being her mother’s shadow, she would do it. If that meant leaving chickens to race away, she would leave them be. She would do what her father asked of her. She would make her family proud, and she would bring honor to them—no matter what kinds of sacrifices she had to make.

Reaching out, she took her father’s hand and they walked back to their home. Behind them, the phoenix’s wing once again slid off the bird’s stone body.

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