She pushed open the heavy double doors of the Faculty Building and climbed the steps to the second floor. At the top of the staircase she paused, a moment of fatigue. One of the cleaning staff, a young woman, was mopping the floor. Lian recognized Sparrow Chen, and they exchanged smiles.

A half-dozen other students were also waiting in Professor Kang’s office, leaning against the walls. One was Liu Shaoming. She berated herself for not responding to his friendly smile of greeting with anything more than a nod. There were two girls, Yee Meirong and Wu Ying-Ying, who were both second-year classmates. She also recognized Shorty Ho, whose round face and innocent smile belied his reputation as a troublemaker. The others Lian didn’t know. When Professor Kang came in the room, they all straightened up.

Kang was revered, the dean of literature and a recognized authority on classics of the Tang Dynasty. Most professors at Minghua dressed in Western suits and ties but Kang kept to traditional garb, a long scholar’s gown, high-necked, and always in a plain, dark fabric. With his wispy gray goatee and round cap, he wouldn’t have looked out of place in an old woodcut. He was how Lian pictured a scholar from the imperial era of a hundred years ago.

Kang peered over the half-moons of his lenses.

“You’re the last of our students whose parents wanted you home,” he said, “but the situation has changed drastically over the past few days. It’s no longer safe for you to travel. The university is responsible for your care, so when Minghua University evacuates Nanking, you’ll be coming with us to our wartime campus in Chengtu.”

“But what will I tell my father?” Shorty Ho asked. “He’s expecting me on the weekend train to Hangchow.”

“You can telephone,” Professor Kang said, “or we can send a telegram if your family doesn’t have a telephone. Also, if you have any money in bank accounts here, take it out. You’ll need it in the weeks to come.”

“What will we need to buy, Professor?” Meirong said.

“Stationery and supplies,” he said. “Small personal items such as soap and toothpaste. The government will cover our food and lodgings, but we shouldn’t count on all the arrangements falling into place right away. It’s best if you also have your own funds.”

When the other students left Kang’s office, Lian stayed behind. The professor gestured for her to sit on the chair by his desk.

“Sir, I can’t go with you,” she said. She leaned forward, hands clutched in her lap. “My mother’s on her way to Shanghai and I’m supposed to meet her there. I have no way of contacting her. I must get to Shanghai.”

“You can’t go on your own, not anymore,” he said gently. “Do you know when your mother will get there? Where she will be living?”