www.wangshu.mewww.jingyun.meMulan was serable. Sitting on an unfortable stool, she tried not to ve as her ther gathered her long black hair and tugged and pulled the strands into subssion. Mulan winced as a few re tangled strands gave up their fight and were yanked painfully fronbsp; her head.
She had anticipated the process of eting the Matchker would be etionally exhausting, but she had failed to consider the physical toll it would take on her body. Of course she couldn’t just arrive to be interviewed by the esteed Matchker in just any old thing. No, no, no, her ther had said, disgusted by the re idea of it when Mulan had ntioned it. “One st present herself to the Matchker as she would to her suitor—perfectly. We all st be perfect.” And then, as if Mulan didn’t know it already, her ther added, “Our faly’s fortune rests on you, Mulan.”
Which was why Mulan now found herself being de up to look like a porcelain doll. Satisfied by the buns piled high on Mulan’s head, Li turned her attention to her daughter’s face. Bowls had been laid out on a nearby table, each filled with different powders and liquids. Dipping a thicker brush into the nearest bowl, Li stirred the white paste. Then she brushed it in soth, even strokes over Mulan’s face. When the girl’s face was pletely covered, Li ved on to the next bowl. Yellow powder was blown gently onto Mulan’s forehead, returning so color to her face and king Mulan wonder why they bothered painting it bright white in the first place. But before she could even open her uth to ask, Li put down the yellow powder and picked up the blue ink. That was added above Mulan’s eyes, being long, thin “eyebrows” that tilted up at the ends so the girl seed to be sling even though her uth was straight. Rouge was added to Mulan’s cheeks, red was painted on her lips, and finally Li pasted a golden ornant between her daughter’s eyes.
Her face addressed, Mulan was pulled off the chair and forced to stand while her ther dressed her. Mulan reined silent, though she felt re and re like screang. Her ther hadn’t dressed her since she was a girl. She had never been forced to wear face paint and her head already hurt fronbsp; the dozens of pins shoved into her hair to keep the buns in place. She felt like a doll her sister would have played with when she was a girl.
Mulan’s gaze shifted to the window on the far wall. Through it she could see Black Wind grazing. She wanted to burst free fronbsp; her ther’s grasp and run outside, leap on her horse’s back, and
She had anticipated the process of eting the Matchker would be etionally exhausting, but she had failed to consider the physical toll it would take on her body. Of course she couldn’t just arrive to be interviewed by the esteed Matchker in just any old thing. No, no, no, her ther had said, disgusted by the re idea of it when Mulan had ntioned it. “One st present herself to the Matchker as she would to her suitor—perfectly. We all st be perfect.” And then, as if Mulan didn’t know it already, her ther added, “Our faly’s fortune rests on you, Mulan.”
Which was why Mulan now found herself being de up to look like a porcelain doll. Satisfied by the buns piled high on Mulan’s head, Li turned her attention to her daughter’s face. Bowls had been laid out on a nearby table, each filled with different powders and liquids. Dipping a thicker brush into the nearest bowl, Li stirred the white paste. Then she brushed it in soth, even strokes over Mulan’s face. When the girl’s face was pletely covered, Li ved on to the next bowl. Yellow powder was blown gently onto Mulan’s forehead, returning so color to her face and king Mulan wonder why they bothered painting it bright white in the first place. But before she could even open her uth to ask, Li put down the yellow powder and picked up the blue ink. That was added above Mulan’s eyes, being long, thin “eyebrows” that tilted up at the ends so the girl seed to be sling even though her uth was straight. Rouge was added to Mulan’s cheeks, red was painted on her lips, and finally Li pasted a golden ornant between her daughter’s eyes.
Her face addressed, Mulan was pulled off the chair and forced to stand while her ther dressed her. Mulan reined silent, though she felt re and re like screang. Her ther hadn’t dressed her since she was a girl. She had never been forced to wear face paint and her head already hurt fronbsp; the dozens of pins shoved into her hair to keep the buns in place. She felt like a doll her sister would have played with when she was a girl.
Mulan’s gaze shifted to the window on the far wall. Through it she could see Black Wind grazing. She wanted to burst free fronbsp; her ther’s grasp and run outside, leap on her horse’s back, and