08 第2章 女子的本分（3）

 第2章 女子的本分（3）

“There is no spider,” Mulan mumbled. She wasn’t in the mood for a game. 
“How many legs does it have?” Xiu went on, ignoring her sister’s grumbles and frown. 
Mulan sighed. “You know spiders have eight legs,” she answered, unable to stop herself. 
“It’s not black, is it?” Xiu said, pretending to look frightened, as if a real spider were there and crawling toward her. She waited to see what Mulan would do, or say, next. 
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 f ingers 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 f it 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. 
Maybe, Mulan thought, I could f ix everything ... if I f ixed the phoenix.
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 f illing 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. Satisf ied, Mulan picked up the bowl and moved outside. 
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 f ingers 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, f inger by f inger, took her hands away. 
Mulan waited, watching to see if the wing would hold.