Chapter 26: Aspiring to Stand Out

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After leaving the grand mansion of the nobility, Mulan glanced back. The Jonstad family had long hoped to recapture its former glory, but most of the families of the Thirteen Knights beneath the King, centuries ago, had already vanished into the river of history.

This was no longer an age of individual valor, nor an era easily understood by ordinary people. Yet, since Mulan now bore the Jonstad name, the family’s ideals—or obsessions, perhaps—could only be honored as best as possible.

Mulan asked himself: even remembering his twenty-first century self, he had never been one with lofty ideals; he simply wanted a more comfortable life, to spend his days with a good woman. He was far from as diligent as the Mulan of old. Yet, whether in the past or present, Mulan had always possessed resilience, striving relentlessly for his goals.

If possible, Mulan too wished for the Jonstad family to shine anew. It would fulfill the collective dream of the family, and, realistically, it would greatly improve his own quality of life.

However, having studied the history and politics of the twenty-first century, Mulan understood upon analyzing this society that it was a brutal, dog-eat-dog age. The modest Jonstad family was not much better off than commoners; climbing upwards by one’s own efforts was a daunting endeavor.

As a scion of the Jonstad family, he could only do his best.

There was no burden in his heart—he regarded it as one of the world’s challenges. For he knew an even more mysterious world awaited him; the dolls stirring in his pocket were proof enough.

...

Sir Walton truly lived up to his reputation as the notorious rake that Mulan had suspected. From noon until dusk, Mulan traversed all corners of Valentine, meeting Walton’s many new lovers: noble ladies, widowed gentlewomen, some young, some mature, even a courtesan.

Mulan could hardly imagine how Walton managed to flit among such a crowd, courting and flirting with so many women—or perhaps, being courted himself. For when Mulan delivered messages to a few, their interest in him was brazen, their passion unmistakable.

He had never lost his composure before vicious, deranged killers, yet in those social encounters he was more than a little unnerved.

As the sun dipped westward, Mulan made his way home, glancing at the list in his hand, now fully crossed off. He felt a sense of relief, though he could not help but grumble inwardly.

‘Does that man know the art of splitting himself? With so many women, how does he keep up? Surely he’s only met some of them once or twice, perhaps gone on a single date...’

Some of these women risked much to meet with Walton, yet perhaps the forbidden thrill was part of the allure.

Despite how many names appeared on Walton’s list, which might suggest a permissive society, Mulan knew the truth. In Valentine—or rather, the entire Dirga Empire—perhaps even in most nations, the prevailing social values remained deeply conservative.

The laboring masses at society’s base had little choice in life. Even women of the upper-middle tiers fared little better; for many, life was composed of only two phases: marriage, or preparing for it.

The expectations of decorum and fidelity placed upon women were stringent, and they did not enjoy even the basic rights afforded to men.

The so-called respect shown to women by “gentlemen” was, in Mulan’s eyes, nothing more than a gilded façade over the reality of oppression.

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Of course, for those who could endure such constraints without awakening a true sense of self, the world remained vibrant; everyone found their own amusements. The gentlewomen reveled in refined living, delighting in every detail.

Such repression inevitably bred powerful reactions; lacking an outlet in the open, rebellion found its way into the shadows.

Mulan was no naïve innocent. He had never been immersed in that world, but he knew well that the upper echelons of the Dirga Empire were anything but clean—rife with filth, scandals, and dramas that eclipsed any stage play.

Curiously, the invitation arrived home even before Mulan did.

When Mulan returned home at dusk, Old Buck approached the entryway, a broad smile on his face, and produced a blue invitation as Mulan was removing his coat.

“Young Master Mulan, you’ve received an invitation.”

“That was quick!”

Setting down his coat, Mulan slipped the pouch with his dolls into his trouser pocket, then accepted the invitation and opened it. The address was No. 6, Laurel District Manor; the host was Lily Franklin.

“Mulan, I looked it up—it’s No. 6 Laurel Street, the Franklin Count’s mansion. That’s true nobility! When did you come to know such an important person? Was it in the army? But didn’t you say you were—”

Hearing Leo about to let something slip, Mulan promptly called out toward the kitchen.

“How could I know the Franklin Count? For a detective, you don’t even read invitations carefully. Didn’t you see the host is Lily Franklin?”

Leo pursed his lips in the kitchen and said no more, realizing he had nearly revealed too much. Of course, he had seen the host’s name; it was a birthday ball, and invitations to young gentlemen would always bear the birthday girl’s signature, even if the Count himself extended the invitation.

Mulan had only just returned to town, his circle was small—how could he know the Count’s daughter?

“I know what you’re thinking. As it happens, I really did meet the Count’s daughter—ran into her just as I was heading out. She recognized me from the picture in the paper, invited me along, and I agreed.”

Mulan walked toward the kitchen, answering Leo’s unspoken question, not forgetting to tease his brother.

“If you’d caught that killer, you would’ve been the one invited tonight. Too bad—you can’t go anywhere now.”

Leo fell silent, sitting in the armchair for a long time, staring into the fire, lost in thought.

This worried Mulan a little. When they were children, with money scarce, they’d bickered and competed for everything, arguing constantly. Perhaps today he really had gone too far.

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Reviving the family had always been a weight on Mulan’s heart; for Leo, raised in the same way yet less talented than his younger brother, how could he not feel the pressure?

“Actually, there’s not much to a ball like that. You know I’ve never learned to dance; Old Buck taught me nothing but how to fight. I’d only make a fool of myself there, not knowing anyone—probably just find a quiet corner to eat and stay invisible.”

Leo looked up at Mulan, still somewhat dejected.

“I wish I could have a drink at the ball too. But you’re right—I’m not qualified.”

Seeing Leo like this, Mulan felt much as he had when, as a child, relatives brought their children over and he ended up making one of them cry—awkward and at a loss. He glanced at the invitation, looking to Old Buck for guidance.

“Guests can’t bring family, can they?”

Old Buck smiled and shook his head.

Wanting to make amends, Mulan moved to stand in Leo’s line of sight, but Leo dropped his head again. Helpless, Mulan crouched beside the armchair.

“Leo, I know you also—”

But before he could finish, a hand shot out, pinching Mulan’s cheek and twisting hard.

“Ha! So you do know how to mock your brother? Let’s see you dodge this!”

Mulan’s eyes widened. This guy was playing dirty, and using real force—but as an injured man, Mulan dared not retaliate too harshly.

“You... let go—ow...”

“Ah, I’m wounded, you wouldn’t dare hit back, would you?”

The two brothers tumbled about by the fireside, while Old Buck watched them with a constant smile.