Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
T here is nothing better than hot food after a whole day of riding. I realize this as I sit down near the campfire and Auntie Jiayi hands me a steaming bowl of ramen. The aunties have fortified the instant ramen with napa cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, crabsticks, and eggs, and it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten, boiling hot and spicy and savory and utterly slurpable .
There is more than enough for everyone, and the mood is merry and lighthearted as we all sit around the fire and slurp at our noodles. At some point, Uncle Hong opens his cooler and passes around cans of beer to everyone. The switching back and forth between steaming-hot noodle soup and sparkling cold beer is heavenly. Even James fails to annoy me with his annoying jokes.
“To family,” Uncle Hong says, raising his beer can.
“To family,” we chorus, and I meet Shang’s eye and feel a warmth that has nothing to do with the hot food or alcohol coursing down to the depths of my stomach.
“You girls have impressed us on this trip,” Uncle Hong says.
“Thanks, you’ve impressed us, too,” Mushu says.
Everyone laughs.
“Ah, but really,” Uncle Hong says. “To tell you the truth, I was thinking before the trip that you definitely won’t be able to cut it out here. Two city girls coming all the way out here? Hah!” He smiles at me. “But you have been such a good sport about everything. To Zhou and Mushu.”
The mention of Zhou’s name turns the beer bitter in my mouth, but I swallow it with a forced smile anyway. “Thanks,” I say. “It’s been a true pleasure being here with all of you, getting to see your beautiful ranch and distillery. I see the love and care you’ve put into every part of the place, and I really admire it.”
Uncle Hong smiles and nods at the other uncles, who nod sagely in return. It feels like there’s been an unspoken conversation between the brothers, and I get the feeling that against all odds, I’ve passed the test. The cousins, too, look satisfied. All of them except James, who’s scowling at me, but James has been such a thorn in my side that, honestly, the thought of pissing him off delights me.
“Yes, I like you, Zhou,” Auntie Jiayi says. “I think you will give many good ideas for the company.”
“But we will still have creative control,” Uncle Hong says.
“Definitely,” I say. “Our company believes in working together very closely with our business partners, especially when it comes to creative decisions.”
James snorts. “That sounds like corporate bullshit for You don’t get a say in anything, suckers. ”
“Not at all,” I say with a patient smile. I’ve watched my father reassure skittish clients enough times to know exactly what he would say in this situation. “A company that isn’t happy is not going to be profitable for long, so we take satisfaction very seriously.”
“Ah, very good,” Uncle Hong says. “You know, over the years, we have had many offers to buy our company. But this is the first time we seriously considered it, because I think it’s important to get along with whoever acquires us. I like you, Zhou. Here is to a bright future ahead!” He raises his beer can and everyone, except James, reaches out and clinks their cans together. I try my best to ignore the guilt and anxiety writhing in my guts at the thought of a bright future ahead . For the hundredth time, I curse myself for coming up with this harebrained idea to fool them into thinking I’m Zhou. I will never be able to face the Lis again once the deal goes through.
Once the ramen is all slurped up, dessert is brought out—Chinese Rice Krispies. Instead of melted marshmallow as the binder, they’ve used maltose syrup and also added roasted sesame seeds to the puffed rice to give it a rich, nutty flavor. I have two big pieces before I feel like my stomach is about to burst, then I settle back with a mug of hot milk tea. There is a comfortable lull in the conversation as everyone slips into a food coma, and for a while, the only sounds in the air are the crackling of the fire and the occasional hoot of some animal deep in the wilderness. When I look up into the sky, I’m lost in thousands of stars. There are so many of them, and each one shining so brilliantly that they form a river. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so at peace.
“When we start working together,” Auntie Jiayi says, “that is, if we do go ahead with it, I would love to tell you some of my ideas, Zhou.”
I perk up. “I would love—”
“Pah, what ideas do you have for the Wutai brand?” Uncle Hong snaps. “Let the professionals handle it.”
My stomach knots up. What would Baba —But then I realize that, actually, I don’t care what my dad might say in this situation. My mouth opens, and words flow out before I can stop them. “Actually, Auntie Jiayi, I would love to hear any ideas you might have. Some of the best ideas we’ve received have come from the most unexpected sources.” I smile warmly at Auntie Jiayi, who nods at me with gratitude.
“Welp, this is gonna be a disaster,” James mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.
I turn to him and give him a smile as sweet as arsenic. “I would love to hear any ideas you might have as well, James.”
From the corner of my eye, I notice Shang coughing. It looks suspiciously like Shang is trying to hide his grin.
“Ooh,” Auntie Chuang says, “do I spy a hint of romance between you and James?”
I gape at her. Could Auntie Chuang be any more clueless?
“James, she said she would love to hear any ideas you might have,” Auntie Chuang says enthusiastically. “When a girl says that, she means—”
“I meant I would love to hear any ideas anyone here might have,” I cut in. There. That should resolve that.
Thankfully, the conversation moves on to other things, and I nod at Auntie Jiayi, who is gazing at me with a curious expression. For the first time, I find myself wondering about Auntie Jiayi’s backstory. I know from Shang that her husband has passed away, and I wonder how that has affected Auntie Jiayi’s life. It’s obvious to me that Auntie Jiayi is a treasure trove of good ideas, especially because Auntie Jiayi is one of life’s observers, like me. She isn’t loud or showy like her brothers. She prefers to stay in the background, and I would love to know what it is that Auntie Jiayi has observed and what conclusions she’s come to.
After a while, Uncle Hong gets up, stretching and yawning. The other uncles, aunties, and cousins follow suit, yawning loudly and saying good nights all around. Even Mushu leaves as well, telling everyone who will listen that it takes nine hours of sleep to wake up looking as fabulous as she does.
Not wanting to leave the comfort of the fire and still lost in the sea of stars, I stay put, calling out good night to everyone else. When I next look down from watching the night sky, I find that only Shang remains, gazing at me with an expression so soft and full of tenderness that my heart, going at a steady pace just moments ago, suddenly slams itself into my rib cage.
“Hey,” I say. “Sorry, were you waiting for me to go to, uh…” I falter. I was about to say bed when it hit me how intimate that sounded. “To, um, the tent?” I say finally.
“Sort of, yeah. I mean, it’s a small space and I wanted to make sure, uh, everything’s okay before…you know.”
Heat rises in my cheeks, and it has nothing to do with the campfire. But I’m also realizing that Shang is nervous, and this knowledge makes me bite my lower lip with glee. Part of me wants to bury my face in a pillow and squeal. Clearly, the part of me that failed to go through puberty.
“Right, sure. Of course.” I stand up and my foot knocks over my half-full cup. Tea spills onto the ground. “Oops.” I pick it up and notice my hand is trembling ever so slightly.
Shang doesn’t seem to notice, walking toward our tent with his hands in his pockets. But once we’re both inside, he turns to me and says, “Zhou, I just want you to know that—”
“Yeah?” We are so close, so painfully near each other right now. So close that I can hear the brush of his sweater sleeve against his torso, can hear every breath he takes. My own heartbeat sounds as clear as a drum.
“I, uh—I won’t try anything funny tonight,” Shang says, and he looks so solemn, so earnest, that I snort. Then, before I know it, I’m doubling over, laughing my ass off. “What?” Shang says, looking mystified.
“Sorry. I just—You looked so sincere.”
“That’s because I was being sincere. Is that a bad thing?”
I can only shake my head as I bend over, trying to stifle my giggles. “No,” I wheeze finally. “It’s not a bad thing. Thank you for the reassurance. I wasn’t worried about that, by the way.”
“Okay, great.” Shang gets on his knees and unzips his backpack. He takes out a small baggie and pauses. “Um, I only have one toothbrush.”
“Oh no. Are we going to have to share a toothbrush?”
“You can have it. It’s new.” He hands it to me.
I stare at it. “But then I’ll have to deal with you having bad breath the whole night. You have it.”
“Well, I don’t want to be spending the rest of the night smelling your unbrushed teeth.”
We narrow our eyes at each other, then I say, “I’ll use my wet clothes as a toothbrush. Just give me some toothpaste, it’ll be fine.”
“Huh. I never would’ve thought of that. That’s pretty smart.”
“Yeah, I’m not just a pretty face,” I joke.
“No, you’re not.” Something in Shang’s voice makes my chest tighten in that way it so often does when he’s around.
The back of my neck prickles and I have to force myself not to look at him as I grab his toothpaste and climb out of the tent. Outside, I find my clothes hanging on a line and pick out my checkered shirt. I go to the wash site, squeeze a bit of toothpaste onto a corner of my shirt, and begin brushing, or rather wiping, my teeth. It’s an awkward process, but my mouth feels significantly cleaner afterward, so I chalk it up as a win. Shang stands next to me, brushing his teeth while eyeing me.
When we’re both done, we walk back toward the tent in silence. Shang takes out a sweater and pants from his bag and hands them to me. “You can wear these.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll just sleep in my day clothes like a man.”
I roll my eyes. I’m too tired to argue, and plus, I don’t like the idea of sleeping in jeans. After the day I’ve had, I deserve a soft sweater and soft sweatpants, damn it. Shang leaves the tent to give me some privacy, and I quickly change into his clothes. As expected, they’re way more comfortable than Mushu’s clothes, but they’re also so big that the sweater hangs almost down to my knees, and I have to roll up the cuffs of the sweatpants to stop myself from tripping over them.
“I’m done,” I call out to Shang.
He climbs back in and pauses, his eyes widening when he sees me.
“What?” I say.
Shang clears his throat and looks away abruptly, zipping the tent up behind him. “Nothing. Uh, bedtime?”
“Yeah.” Now that the tent is zipped up, the air feels utterly still, every sound we make painfully clear. Shang’s scent envelops me. He smells so good, a subtle warmth that makes me want to snuggle up to him and disappear.
I climb into the “bed,” which is nothing more than a couple of towels spread out over the tent floor. I make sure to lie down as close to the edge as possible so as to give Shang more room. I’m so acutely aware of his presence, dominating the small space.
“You don’t have to, like, hug the edge,” Shang says.
“I’m trying to be considerate.”
Shang looks like he’s trying to bite back a smile. “Thank you, yes, that’s very considerate.” He lowers himself onto the towel next to me and lies down on his back, curling one arm behind his head and the other across his stomach.
I turn onto my back as well, and we both stare up at the tent top. The silence stretches on between us, but it’s not an entirely uncomfortable one.
“Um—” I say, at the same time as Shang says, “So—”
We both pause.
“You go,” we say at the same time. I laugh. Shang turns his head to face me, and I do the same. In the lamplight, his eyelashes cast long shadows across his cheeks. He’s so achingly close to me.
“So this is weird, huh?” I say.
“Yeah,” Shang chuckles. “Just a few days ago, we were strangers and you were just some finance bro trying to take over my family company and probably strip it for parts.”
“What?” I rise up on one elbow. “I would never—”
“I’m just kidding,” Shang says, grinning.
I narrow my eyes at him and lie back down, still giving him a dirty look.
“But to be honest with you, I was kind of afraid of that,” Shang says. “You hear of these things happening all the time, and with our sales record, I know that our real value lies in our components, not our brand.”
“That’s not true,” I say. “I like your brand.”
Shang cocks an eyebrow.
“Okay, I think your brand has a lot of potential.”
Shang is wearing a smile I would very much like to wipe off. Possibly with my own mouth. Ew, why the hell did I just think that? Stop it, brain. Bad brain .
“In the right hands, your brand could become very…” Is it just me or is every word coming out of my mouth sounding super suggestive? “Uh, lucrative.”
“Interesting,” Shang says. Now it’s his turn to raise himself up on his elbow.
I try to ignore the way my blood pressure makes my head feel like it’s about to explode as Shang gazes down at me.
“And what are the right hands going to do to our brand?”
Damn it, now everything coming out of his mouth sounds really suggestive. I mentally give myself a shake, trying to yank my mind out of the gutter. What am I, a fifteen-year-old kid with raging hormones?
“Um, a lot of things,” I say, fighting to keep my voice even. I raise myself up on my elbow once more so I’m at eye level with him. “But I can’t tell you, because we’re not partners yet, and that would be proprietary information.” Of course, now that I’m looking right at him, it hits me again how incredibly close we are. Mere inches separate us. I can see each individual eyelash, the smooth texture of his skin, and the way his nostrils flare ever so slightly as he stares at me.
“Hmm.” Shang’s gaze moves from my eyes down to my mouth, and I resist the urge to bite my lip. I part my mouth ever so slightly, and am delighted to hear a sharp intake of breath from him. Good, I’m not the only one whose mind is in the gutter tonight.
A moment passes, during which I imagine twining my arm around Shang’s neck and pulling him close. But then Shang abruptly turns away and lies back down. Feeling foolish, I settle back down on the towel as well, and we both resume staring at the top of the tent. This time, though, the silence is charged and not at all easy or comfortable. What little space there is between us feels electric, and I’m sure that if our elbows were to bump each other, even a tiny bit, I would spontaneously combust.
Shang shifts, and I stop breathing. He reaches over his head, pauses, and says, “Lights off?”
Disappointment washes over me. Maybe I’ve miscalculated after all. My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Okay.”
He turns the lamp off and darkness floods the space, so absolute and so fast that I’m a little shocked. I’ve never known such blackness; back home, I’m used to a city that never quite falls completely asleep. There are always splinters of light coming from the streets below, creeping through my shades, and noises from passing cars. But now there is complete silence and complete darkness, and in the absence of light, I feel other senses firing up.
My hearing has become more sensitive since we came into the tent, but now my skin seems to tingle with the passing of air. As I listen to Shang’s breathing, I imagine that I can feel his breath caressing my skin. And his smell—God, his smell is everywhere, and it is intoxicating. A clean smell, although I don’t understand how that’s possible after the day we’ve had, but he smells of soap and light sweat and maybe a hint of cologne and it’s all I can do to stop myself from burying my nose in the nape of his neck.
From the way Shang is breathing, I can tell he isn’t asleep, either. We lie there in silence for an excruciating amount of time, and after a while, the exhaustion of the day catches up with me. Even though I’m still sorely aware of Shang’s presence next to me, my eyelids become heavier and heavier, more and more impossible to keep open. At some point, I manage to doze off.
I have no idea when I wake up, but I have a sense of some time passing, maybe an hour or two, and then waking up and finding myself still in complete darkness. But something is different. It takes a moment to realize what it is. I’m warm, comfortably warm, feeling utterly safe. And with a start, I realize it’s because somehow, as I slept, I’ve turned to my side and burrowed into Shang’s arms. Shang’s arms, which are at this very moment around me.
Time stops moving. My breath pauses mid-inhale. I don’t dare move a single muscle. I lie there, frozen, unsure what to do. I should slip out of his arms; otherwise it’s going to be so awkward come morning. But also, I really don’t want to. It’s bitterly cold, even inside the tent, and I don’t want to leave Shang, I want to lie soft in his arms and nuzzle my forehead into the crook of his neck and—
“What are you thinking?” Shang whispers.
I utter a soft gasp. “You’re awake?”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you been awake?”
“Um. From the time we went to bed?”
“You haven’t slept at all?” I say, horrified. “Have I been snoring? Have you been listening to me snore?”
“There wasn’t much else to listen to.”
“Shang!” I hiss.
He laughs. “For what it’s worth, it’s a really cute snore.”
“I can’t believe—” I ease myself up and feel Shang’s arms tightening a little around me, his hands wide across my back. I pause, whatever words I was about to say forgotten in the moment. The darkness around us is still complete, so it isn’t possible for me to see Shang’s expression, but I can sense it, the atmosphere around us turning soft, the unspoken words between us dissipating into thin air.
“Sorry,” Shang says, releasing me.
And that’s when I dip my head and cover his mouth with mine. No more masks. No more wondering what my dad would do, or what Ranch Mulan would do, or what Work Mulan should do. None of that. I don’t even care that it’s forbidden, that my company is trying to acquire his, or about all the ways in which that makes this so wrong. All I want to do right now is what real Mulan wants to do, and that is to kiss Li Shang.
Our lips mold against each other’s perfectly, moving slowly, softly at first. I’ve kissed and been kissed plenty of times before, but this is different. It’s somehow new and exciting and yet familiar at the same time, like kissing your best friend. It doesn’t make sense; Shang is about as far from a best friend as anyone can be, and yet. And yet here we are, our mouths moving in sync, deepening the kiss until my entire body feels like it’s on fire.
Shang’s hands stroke up and down my back, and I shift slightly so that the oversize sweater I’m wearing lifts up a little, and Shang groans and slides his hand underneath. His palm caresses my back tenderly, slowly, and I arch my back, wanting to savor every touch of his. I brush the side of his face, still kissing him, before letting my hand trail down his chin, grazing that superhero jawline of his before going down to his hard chest. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. When I slip my hand under his shirt, he gives a soft moan and whispers, “Zhou…”
The name sears through my senses, piercing through the haze of the moment. It feels as though the thick atmosphere has just shattered. I lift my head and freeze, hovering above him.
“Are you okay?” Shang says. “Did I—”
“No, it’s fine. You’re fine.” I clear my throat. “Um, I just—I was afraid that the others might hear us.”
“Oh.” Shang swallows. “Sure, yeah. That’s a legit concern.”
He carefully removes his hands from my back and I roll off him, grateful it’s so dark that it’s impossible for Shang to see how red my face must be. Or how guilty. I turn away from him and squeeze my eyes shut. Shang turns as well, though I can’t tell where he’s facing. The silence stretches on and on, until it becomes so taut that something must break.
“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” Shang says. “I’m sorry if I did.”
I grit my teeth, willing my tears back. “You did nothing wrong.” There’s a clear tremble in my voice.
“Zhou, are you okay?”
Stop calling me that! I want to scream. It’s hitting me like a gut punch, the lie I’ve told, this deception I’ve carried out, and now it’s too late to take it back. His family has accepted Mushu and me, even Uncle Hong has been won over, and now I’ve fallen—
I stop breathing.
I’ve fallen? For Shang? In such a short time?
No, it can’t be. It must be lust, or infatuation. I don’t believe in insta-love. I believe in math. I believe in currency. I believe in hard work and being sensible and definitely not falling in love with a man I barely know. A man who’s been nothing but kind toward me, a man who does all the cooking so his mother doesn’t have to, a man who cuts up food because his mother has arthritic hands, a man who stayed back and rode alongside me and got into a bar fight because of me and—
A man who thinks I am Hua Zhou.
When I speak again, my voice is steel. “I’m okay. That was a mistake. I apologize. It was unprofessional and I won’t let it happen again.”
“Oh.” The surprise and disappointment in Shang’s voice is undeniable. He clears his throat, then says, “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. I’m glad you—uh, put a stop to it. Let’s get some rest. Good night.”
This time, when I doze off, I don’t wake up in Shang’s arms, feeling warm and soft and safe. In fact, when I wake up, it is morning, and the makeshift bed is cold and undeniably empty.