youfightgood:

By seventeen, most boys showed an interest in girls. Shang was no idiot. He’d been seventeen once, too, although not nearly as big an embarrassment as some of his soldiers. He was sure if he searched their tents, he would find more than enough evidence to conclude that they missed the company of women. His sister, however, would certainly not be counted among their fantasies, especially Ping’s, as she was far above anyone’s station and her brother sneered at the idea that a man might have her simply to establish connections with the Li family. Shang’s hands clenched in their position behind his back; yes, it was best to dissuade these men from even thinking about having her hand in marriage.

Shang relaxed visibly as Ping went on. “They expected you’d —” His mouth pursed, eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “You mean to say you were betrothed before you left home.” 

And he glanced at Ping, slightly impressed. For once. It seemed as if the boy had been ready to take on responsibility, to fulfill a duty to his family. Ping’s frustration at leaving home before accomplishing this did not escape the captain’s detection. His gaze softened empathetically for only one moment, before once more hardening into cold stone. Producing heirs was essential for security, but so was defending one’s country.

“Regardless. War is your priority now. An emperor’s order comes before a father’s wishes.”

Moreover, if Hua Ping survived this to the end, he would be able to return home as a hero and obtain an even better wife than he would have as a measly seventeen-year-old; Shang was doing Hua Zhou a service, really, shaping his son into an honorable young man. The Hua family name would live on through Ping’s children, along with the respect that came with it.

This was all possible if he succeeded in whipping the boy into shape and readying him to face a Hun twice his size. Shang frowned. We have a long way to go.

Ping let out an incredulous whistle.  He couldn’t help it.  But that was okay, because his mama had always told him ladies didn’t whistle.  And Ping was doing his utmost not to remind the men around him of a lady, in the first place.  "Not betrothed exactly,“ he hedged, "not yet.”  Which was more or less true.  Ping would take a leaf out of his commanding officer’s scroll: Captain Shang didn’t need to know all of the details of how his encounter with the matchmaker had gone disastrously, and his family was disappointed in him, oh and Ping was really a woman who had run away from home…

No, he would try not to volunteer any more information about his life before the war.  Until he had time to hide from Shang and breathe deeply and devise a convincing version of Ping’s life, the little soldier felt as if he was trying to make his way across the log platforms set up across the Min River as it coursed through the mountains beyond camp.  It looked easier than it really was; one false move sent you plunging through thin air and into the foaming current.  

However, he couldn’t hide a rueful smile.  Li Shang didn’t need to tell him about a father’s wishes.  If only Ping could claim the moral high ground, though, and agree that the emperor’s call was inexorable!  Of course someone had had to ride to war; it was just as the captain said.  They had a duty to the emperor just as they did to their parents.  But this someone was not and would never be a war hero, if (when!) Ping died he would not leave three women to manage a farm alone.  It was hard to think of the emperor when you had seen your father drop his sword.  Ping bit his lip and sought to change the subject.

“What about you, eh, captain?”  The recruit lifted a hand to pat Shang’s shoulder conspiratorially as he might with the others, thought better of it, faltered, and settled for scratching his neck as if it was all he had set out to do.  "You have a bride waiting when all this is over?“

Not, of course, that the scrawniest boy in Wu Zhong had any reason to care.  He was just making conversation.