ThemorningsunhadlongsincerisenovertheChinesetulouthatMulancalledhome.Asshestoodinthemiddleofthecircularsppoundofconnectedbuildingsthatwasmadeupofherhomeandthoseofherneighbors,shewassurroundedbythemuffledsoundsofthenearbyvillagers.Fromasecond-floorbalconyamothercalledtoherdaughtertobringthelaundry.Inakitchenonthegroundfloor,aspoonbangedagainstthesidesofapotasanothermotherpreparedtheeveningmeal.Fromtheopeningbetweenthebuildingsthatledtothestreet,Mulancouldmakeoutthelowmoosofseverallargecowsbeingherdedtoanewfeedinggroundandtheasionalsquawkastheirheavyfeetploddedprecariouslyclosetoastraychicken.Comingfromherownhome,nestledinthemiddleofalheothers,Mulanheardthesteady
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click,click,clack,clack
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oftheshuttleashermotherandyoungersisterwovefabric.
ButthesoundsdidnothingtodistractMulan.Shehadgrownupwiththem.Shehadspenteverydayofhersevenyearsnexttothesamehandfulofvillagers.Atpresent,theclangsandbangsweremerelybackgroundnoisetohercurrentmission:herdingthechickenstotheircoop.
Unfortunately,thechickenswerenotinthemoodtobeherded.Forthepasthour,Mulanandherfather,HuaZhou,hadbeentryingtomovethesmallgroupoffeatheredanimalsfromonesideofthecourtyardtotheother.Yeteachtimetheygotmostofthebirdsgoinginthesamedirection,onewouldbreakoffandmakearunforit.SweatdottedMulan’sforeheadfromrunningbackandforthinfrontofherfatherasshetriedtostopthechickens.Herarmwasbeginningtoachefromhittingherwoodenstickonthegroundtogetthebirds’attention.Still,therewasabouncetoherstep,andwhileherfatherseemedreadyforthetasktobeover,Mulanwaseagertocontinue.Shelovedachallenge.Andchickenherdingwascertainlythat.
“Steady,Mulan??.??.??.”
Herfather’svoicewasstern,butkind.Lookingup,shesawZhou’swarmbrowneyeslookingdownather.Shemethissmile.Sheknewthatmanypeopleinhervillagewereintimidatedbyherfather.Healwayswalkedwithhisheadhigh,hischestout.Onceafiercewarrior,hisbodyhadgrownmorefragilewithage.Hisshouldersstoopedeversoslightlyandhishairwasnolongerthick.Yethestillhadanairofconfidencedespitethelimpthatforcedhimtowalkwithacane.ButtoMulan,hewasnotfierceorscary.Hewasherfather.Andsheadoredhim.
Atsevenyearsold,Mulanknewshewassupposedtospendhertimehelpinghermothertakecareoftheirhome,butshehadnointerestinweavingorcookingorcleaning.Justtheideaofthoseboringchoreswasenoughtomakeheryawn.Herlittlesister,Xiu,lovedtodo—andexcelledat—thosetasks.Soitwasamuchbetteruseofhertime,Mulanhadarguedonmorethanoneasion,forMulantohelpherfather,whohadnosonstodealwiththingslikepeskychickens,andletXiuworkwithhermother.
AloudsquawkbroughtMulan’sthoughtsbacktohertask.Asiffinallyrealizingthatthecoopmeantfoodandrest,thechickensbegantomovetowarditinagroup.Mulanletoutahappylittlewhoop,startlinganoldwomanstandinginsidetheshrinethatsatinthemiddleofthespmunalcourtyard.Shewaslightingincenseatthebaseofthelargephoenixstatuethatdominatedtheshrine.Liketherestofthesppound,theshrinehadseenbetterdays.Tilesfellofftheroof,andmorethanafewboardswereloose.Thestatue,however,remainedingoodshape.Tothosewholivedinthevillage,thestatuewasthemostsacredandimportantpartoftheirlittleworld.Itwasarepresentationoftheirancestors,aconnectiontothosewhohadspebefore.Everyman,woman,andchildspentatleastsomepartofeverydayintheshrine,enjoyingthestillnessandpeacetheplacebrought.Mostofthetime.