“If you’re not Ping, then who are you?” Shang asked. “I’m…” Mulan sucked in her breath. Her voice shook, and she worried her heart might burst out of its armor. She set down her sword, rubbed the sweat off her palms onto her bare arm. Then she reached for her hair and undid the knot. The black sheet of hair tumbled down, brushing just against her shoulder blades. “My ancestors were right,” she said, surprised by how calm her voice was. “My parents never had a son. There is no Ping.” She raised her eyes to meet Shang’s. “There is only—Mulan.”
She's Mulan...
