“You don’t know?” Wendian exclaimed.

While they’d been chatting on the train with the Wei cousins, Nanking had fallen. The Japanese now occupied China’s capital city.

IN THE MORNING, a stream of university students crossed the bridge to Hunan University. The sports field was the only space large enough to hold them all and a stage had been erected in front of the stands. General Chen of the Eighteenth Army, one of the nation’s most respected military leaders, would be addressing them.

Stern and handsome, General Chen stood at attention while the national anthem played. The microphone screeched as an aide adjusted it, then the general stepped up.

“Out of China’s five hundred million people, we can recruit enough soldiers,” he said. “But China has only forty-three thousand university students. Students, you are our nation’s treasure. You are the ones we need to rebuild after the war. You are China’s last drop of blood. If we lose you, we squander our future. Do not enlist. Evacuate to safety with your schools. Complete your education. It’s your duty to the nation, to your families, to your own destiny.”

But by the end of the day, fifty-one students and eleven servants from Minghua University had enlisted. Four more, all from the coastal town of Ningbo, decided to drop out and travel home together. They were worried about their families. Ningbo was south of Shanghai and Lian wanted very badly to join them. But the only way her mother could contact her was through the university. She had to wait for her mother’s letter.

Chapter 22

In Changsha, university life felt almost normal to Shao. The buildings at Hunan University were reasonably warm, the electric lighting miraculous. There were lectures in real classrooms with real desks and chairs. There weren’t enough classrooms to accommodate all the universities at the same time, so room rotations and long idle periods between classes stretched school days into the evening but no one minded. It was a relief, no, a pleasure, getting back to a routine of classes and study. Although they’d tried to keep up with their courses while on the road, how much studying could they really manage after eight or twelve hours of walking? How could they concentrate on lectures or take notes when their hands were numb from the cold, their stomachs growling with hunger?

Between classes Shao worked on assignments and met with his tutorial group, which had reassembled. They met in quiet corners and corridors. Their eager questions made him smile, and there was new urgency to their discussions. The war made them search for answers in literature of the past since present-day news only brought uncertainty.