Tsiek tsiek and again tsiek tsiek,

Mulan weaves, facing the door.

You don’t hear the shuttle’s sound,

You only hear Daughter’s sighs.

They ask Daughter who’s in her heart,

They ask Daughter who’s on her mind.

“No one is on Daughter’s heart,

No one is on Daughter’s mind"

A soft breeze sighs, sweeping through the crowded village. The branches of the cherry blossom trees come to life, swaying with the wind. A shower of pale buds land on Mulan's ebony hair, their dusky rose tinted petals delicate and beautiful, yet escaping her notice. 

After all, beauty is futile in times like these. 

She hurries briskly out of the courtyard, feet scurrying onto the dirt path. 

Mulan walked past the fields, and a few of the peasants raised their heads in greeting. She nodded back at them in response. She paused for a moment, watching the children running past her, their laughter tinkling in the breeze. So innocent, so carefree, so unaware of the horrors happening around them. Year after year, the fields looked less green, the earth became drier and the sun hotter. Families slaved away under the burning ball of fire, sweat pouring down their bodies, watering the parched earth. But they all knew that they were fortunate.

At least they were still alive.

It was noon when Mulan arrived at the market. Her hand was clutched tightly onto the string of copper coins. Venders called out to her, offering her beads and small trinkets, but she could not afford such useless luxuries. Instead, she declined them, her eyes seeking out a particular booth.

After fighting her way through the crowd, she found it, tucked away at the edge of the market-square. It was a simple, spartan : a piece of cloth spread out on the ground with another sheet hanging from three bamboo poles, to hide covert wares away from prying eyes.

She cautiously approached the seemingly empty booth. Bowls of dark-coloured liquid set on the ground produced an acidic, bitter smell. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Suddenly, the sheet swept back to reveal an old woman. Her grey hair was pulled back, tied into a small bun by a strip of red cloth, and countless wrinkles lined her leathery skin.

She gave Mulan a toothless smile.

"Come closer, child, no need to be afraid of me," 

Mulan shuffles forward tentatively.

"Now, what can I do for a young girl like you?"

Mulan unfurled her hand. Untying one of the coins, she pressed it into the old woman's bony hand.

"My father is very ill. Is there perhaps a tonic or remedy that can help him heal?"

The woman did not reply.

Mulan pressed a second coin onto the woman's palm.

"Do you know of a medicine that might be useful?"

The woman accepted a third coin before nodding and disappearing behind the sheet.

Mulan waited, impatiently, for the woman to reappear. 

She heard water boiling and grimaced at the pungent odour coming from it. 

Finally, the woman came out, holding a small glass vial.

Mulan smiled at the woman gratefully, before reaching to take the dark green liquid.

Abruptly, the woman grabbed Mulan's wrist and shook her head.

"Pay."

Mulan sighed and handed the woman the rest of the copper.

In response, the woman released her tight grip and allowed Mulan to take the vial.

Mulan clutched onto the bottle tightly and hurried off b