needs to be careful. Very careful.” She plastered on a smile and pushed their cups forward. “Drink, drink. Your tea is getting cold, and you both must be thirsty.”
“I’m not,” Mulan said, remembering ShiShi’s warning. A warning the lion himself was promptly forgetting as he continued to sniff the tea.
“What?” Lao Lao said with a laugh. “You look uneasy, Ping. Are you afraid it’s poisoned?”
“Of course not,” Mulan said quickly. “We just have a long journey ahead of us, and—”
“All the more reason to drink. A sip or two won’t delay you too long.” The old woman carried the teapot to them and opened its lid so the tea’s aroma could waft to their noses. “Could anything dangerous smell so wonderful? Answer me that.”
ShiShi’s regal fierceness melted away as he accidentally inhaled the scent of the tea. He sighed. “Oranges. And jasmine. With just a hint of ginger.”
Mulan had to admit the tea’s aroma was heavenly. The scent wafted into the air, enveloping her in a warm, invisible embrace. The smell made her feel safe.
She looked into her teacup and saw herself smiling rather idiotically. Behind her, one of the brass lanterns hanging from ceiling appeared in the tea’s reflection, and she thought she saw King Yama’s face appear—as it had on each of the doors they’d found in Diyu.
Maybe there was a portal inside this very pavilion!
She blinked, pushed her teacup away, and turned back to look at the lantern.
King Yama’s face disappeared, and the light inside the lantern flickered and danced. The brass caught the light and took on a spectrum of mesmerizing colors.
Mulan blinked, and the lantern returned to how it’d been when she first entered the pavilion. No King Yama, no strange colors.
“Ping?” Lao Lao prodded.
Mulan’s jaw hung agape. Her answer, which had been clear as day only a second ago, fled from her lips. Her brows furrowed. What was the matter with her? She couldn’t remember! “Uh, I…um…”
“Stay and have some tea,” the old woman said, placing Mulan’s teacup in her palm, “and I’ll tell you all about Diyu. I’ve been here a long time, you know.”
Mulan stared at the steaming liquid, watching the dried leaves swirl to the bottom. How beautiful the tea looked, too—she’d never seen tea so colorful. Reds and pinks swirled in with amber and blue—like the mesmerizing patterns on a butterfly.
“Dooo tellll,” ShiShi slurred. “I loovee a good story.…”
Mulan tore her gaze from the tea. Her head felt light, dizzy. What was it she was trying to remember? A warning, a story—something!
She touched the side of her head, trying to keep it from throbbing. Shang had inhaled the fragrance of the tea; she could tell because his dark eyes looked glassy, and he grimaced as if he were trying to fight off the dizziness, too.
What was it I had to remember? Something about…not eating, not drinking in Diyu. Why? Because…because it would be taking a risk.
But who had told her this?
ShiShi? Yes, he’d warned her…but that wasn’t what she struggled to remember. It was something about the tea…the tea! General Li had told her that Shang would have to drink a tea that would make him forget his past life. Was that what she’d just smelled? Then the old lady was Meng Po, the Lady of Forgetfulness, and they were in her pavilion!
Mulan’s hand trembled, and she almost dropped the cup. She placed her hand over the tea so its smell wouldn’t make her forget anymore.
Her mind raced. They had to get out of here, but how?
ShiShi had that dreamy grin on his face. He didn’t seem to have moved to drink the tea, to Mulan’s relief, but once his stupor wore off, she had no doubt he would.
And Shang.
“It’s my special five-flavored tea,” Meng Po was saying to him. “Have a sip, Captain.”
No, he couldn’t drink!
Come on, Mulan. You had no problem being clumsy back home. You spilled tea over the Matchmaker and made a fool of yourself in front of the whole village. Meng Po is not an old lady. She’s a cunning servant of King Yama.
Mulan elbowed Shang. Her elbow went straight through his spirit, but it knocked the cup out of his hands. It shattered on the ground.
To her relief, Shang’s eyes cleared. She shot him a look. Play along, it read.
“I’m so sorry. I’m clumsy. Shang always said I was the worst soldier in the regiment.” She faked a laugh. “Didn’t you, Shang?”
Shang raised an eyebrow, and then he forced a laugh, too. “Um, the