Mulan was miserable. Sitting on an uncomfortable stool, she tried not to move as her mother gathered her long black hair and tugged and pulled the strands into submission. Mulan winced as a few more tangled strands gave up their fight and were yanked painfully from her head.

She had anticipated the process of meeting the Matchmaker would be emotionally exhausting, but she had failed to consider the physical toll it would take on her body. Of course she couldn’t just arrive to be interviewed by the esteemed Matchmaker in just any old thing. No, no, no, her mother had said, disgusted by the mere idea of it when Mulan had mentioned it. “One must present herself to the Matchmaker as she would to her suitor—perfectly. We all must be perfect.” And then, as if Mulan didn’t know it already, her mother added, “Our family’s fortune rests on you, Mulan.” 本章未完，请点击下一页继续阅读！ 第1页/共10页