Finally, the Rabbit looked at her. “We don’t have the time to go elsewhere,” he said. “We have only two days left to make it to the Queen Mother’s garden before the new moon. We must leave tomorrow.”
“Maybe the Queen Mother will have some,” Lu Ting-Pin said hopefully. “It is the Garden of Splendors.”
“Which is precisely why it wouldn’t be there,” the Rabbit said. “Dragon Beard Grass is much too humble and common to be grown in her garden.”
“It’s not that common now,” Lu Ting-Pin pointed out.
The Rabbit sighed and nodded. He looked at Mulan. “It’s our best chance,” he told her.
But it was not a good one, and they all knew it.
IT WAS decided they would take the supplies to the boat that night so they could leave as early as possible the next morning. “Li Jing’s father will give us anything we need,” Lu Ting-Pin said. “And we can spend the night here, too, with civilized luxuries—like clean clothes and a bath.”
He had been looking at his own dirt-stained robes when he said that, but Mulan was secretly relieved. The idea of a bath was quite welcomed. And, she thought, it would be best to arrive at the Queen Mother’s garden as presentable as possible.
So, in the darkness of night, they carried boxes and bins of food and water down to the dock. The Rabbit carried the lantern to light the way, with Lu Ting-Pin and Mulan stumbling behind. When they got to their boat, Lu Ting-Pin dropped his bundles with a loud thump.
“Our supplies should weigh the boat down enough,” Lu Ting-Pin said. “We can get rid of that rock.”
The rock! The Odd-Shaped Rock from the City of Rushing Water. As Lu Ting-Pin dragged it out of the boat in the flickering light of the lantern, Mulan thought she saw a strangely shaped figure in it. The twisted layers and the weathered hollows were like tattered clothing and long, disheveled hair.…
“Where should I put it?” Lu Ting-Pin asked. “I probably shouldn’t just dump it into the sea.”
“I know where,” Mulan said, and she felt her idea fully root and form.
They left the supplies in the boat, and Mulan, carrying both the Rabbit and the lantern, led Lu Ting-Pin, who huffed and puffed as he lugged the rock. She brought them to the far edge of the island, past the sand dunes to the rocky cliff.
“It’s here, somewhere,” Mulan said, swinging the lantern back and forth. The Rabbit had promptly fallen asleep once securely bundled in the carrier wrap; Mulan found his soft snores in her ear oddly comforting against the sound of the roaring sea in darkness.
“Wherever it is, I hope it’s close,” Lu Ting-Pin said, panting. “I’m not an Immortal right now, you know.”
Mulan frowned and took a few more steps forward. Then she screamed. A ghastly pale ghost stood before her! Its face was a melted distortion, its hands outstretched as if pleading.
“What is it?” Lu Ting-Pin cried in alarm as the Rabbit snorted awake.
Mulan gulped and forced herself to bring the lantern closer. It was not a ghost. It was the Stone Statue, disfigured by weather and age and made unearthly by the flickering light of the lantern.
“Nothing,” Mulan said. “I mean, it’s what I was looking for.”
Lu Ting-Pin came over. “Ahh,” he said when saw the statue. “Now I understand.”
The Rabbit peeked over Mulan’s shoulder and gasped in surprise. “How did you know this was here?”
“I saw it from the hilltop,” Mulan said. “And talked to Li Jing about it.”
“Curious,” Lu Ting-Pin said. “It seems quite a peculiar coincidence.”
“We’ve had a couple of peculiar coincidences,” the Rabbit said. He promptly told Lu Ting-Pin about the storm and the house they’d sheltered at. “It made me think perhaps some of your old friends might be helping us out.”
Lu Ting-Pin thought for a moment and shook his head. “No,” he said, “doesn’t sound like them. They prefer big, grand miracles, and they like getting credit for them.” Then he grinned sheepishly. “Like me.”
The Rabbit hummed in agreement. “Yes, I suppose it’s too subtle for the Mighty Immortals. I wonder who?”
“Why wouldn’t whoever it is just let us know?” Mulan asked. She felt slightly resentful. Perhaps she wouldn’t have been so easily deceived by Daji if the real Immortal had just shown themselves.
“It’s curious,” Lu Ting-Pin said. “It could be a test of some sort. Or maybe it’s someone who is not supposed to help us.”
“If it’s someone who is not supposed to help us,” Mulan asked, another idea coming to her, “could it be someone who is a servant—someone like the Red Fox?”
Both Lu Ting-Pin and the Rabbit looked at each other and then shook their heads.
“I only wish,” Lu Ting-Pin said. “But to be able to tie threads of past and future would be beyond her scope, beyond that of even the White Fox. Even the Immortals would have to work together to do so.”
“But a servant is a likely possibility,” the Rabbit said. “Someone without authorization—someone very powerful but with a very low position…”
“Or someone very powerful with a very high position,” Lu Ting-Pin added.
“Come now, Yan,” the Rabbit chided, “only the Jade Emperor or the like would be bound by that.”
“Why would the Jade Emperor not be allowed to help?” Mulan asked.
“He’s bound by the Mandate of Heaven not to directly interfere with the fates of the people on Earth,” Lu Ting-Pin said, showing signs of boredom. “Which I admit, I have never quite believed. I think he just claims that so he doesn’t have to be bothered.”
Before Mulan or the Rabbit could say another word, Lu Ting-Pin heaved the Odd-Shaped Rock in front of him. “Coincidence or not,” he said, “we still have to decide about this. Where should I put it?”
Mulan nodded toward the statue. “I think it should go right next to it,” she said. “Put them close together so they touch.”
She and the Rabbit watched as Lu Ting-Pin dropped the misshapen rock next to the deformed statue, pushing and shoving until the two stone creatures collided into each other as if in a fierce embrace. As Lu Ting-Pin stood up, Mulan watched anxiously.
“All good?” Lu Ting-Pin asked her.
“I guess,” Mulan said doubtfully. She was beginning to feel as she had long ago after she had caught that flying teacup. She had dived and twisted with the dexterity of a cat, but when she finally held up the unbroken cup in exultation, Ma just shook her head with displeasure. Mulan’s triumph had shriveled inside of her like a dried mushroom.
“Anything wrong?” the Rabbit asked in her ear.
Mulan looked at the two stones standing silent and unmoving in the light of the lantern, the constant sea rumbling behind them. “I thought something would happen,” she admitted. “But they’re still just two rocks.”
Lu Ting-Pin put his arm on Mulan’s shoulder. “Come,” he said, “let’s go. Sometimes miracles do not like to be watched.”
So, with the light of their lantern bobbing away in the darkness, they left the Scholar and the Waiting Wife, and hoped that the wife was waiting no more.