Mrs. Yi straightened up to look around, and found that the pit no longer existed. She saw familiar houses and chimneys: she was standing on the threshing ground in Yun Village. She picked up the basket and the two-toothed hoe, and headed home in high spirits. On the way, she ran into Mia’s cousin Chunli. Chunli said, “Mrs. Yi, you’ve been away for a long time—two days and two nights! They’re crying up a storm in your house! Are you hungry? Go home and get something to eat!”

“Who’s in my home?”

“Mia, Ginger, and Spoon.”

She opened the door and went in. Mr. Yi and the three women looked at her in surprise. They were afraid to touch her, as if she were a piece of fragile china.

“Darling, when I was on the mountain, I heard you talking to me. You encouraged me.”

“I did, but only in my heart. Anyway, I’m glad you heard it all—It was a dark time . . . Then I ran into a man from Blue Mountain who told me to go home and wait. Did you meet him? You must have. He said he would bring you home.”

“The man accompanied me, but he ran away midway here.”

“Cheers!” said the three women in unison.

“Cheers!” Mrs. Yi drained her glass.

A lively conversation began. Halfway through the meal, Mrs. Yi suddenly put down her chopsticks and went out . . . She had remembered the malaria patients.

“Director, your training workshop is well known,” Mrs. Yi said to the old director.

“It’s strange. I never advertised, but these young people came to me one after another.”

“They were waiting for you all along. The young man named Simon, who subscribes to the medical journal, has been asking me for the past year when you would start taking new apprentices.”

“Simon is very promising. Like you, he loves helping others. He’ll be a pillar of the future.”

The director took Mrs. Yi to see his new classroom, which was built on the ground where part of the building had collapsed. It was capacious and light.

“At present there are two teachers here, Wang and me,” the director said. “Do you remember Wang? The one with a tumor in his head? He takes the tumor with him to class. He told the students that for every word he said, the tumor said something different. He asked if they wanted to hear the tumor’s words, and the students responded enthusiastically. Wang didn’t have a formal education. He discovered the secrets of cutting-edge medicine by learning from his own illness.”

“Director, what’s happening here is so moving!” Mrs. Yi said.

“I’m old and useless. All I have going for me is my teaching experience.”

“You’re a respected senior who’s a model for newcomers! Don’t ever stop your work again, I beg you!”

“Of course I won’t. Chunxiu, you gave me a second shot at life.”

As they were talking, the room was very quiet. A big bat flew in through the window and out again.