Lian shook her head. “She was about to flee Peking when she wrote to me. But she told me to go to a foreign mission, the Unity Mission School, and wait for her there.”

“When your mother wrote that letter, she didn’t know the Japanese would attack Shanghai,” the professor said. “Nor that refugees would be pouring into the International Settlement. The refugee centers are overflowing. If the Mission can’t take you in and you can’t afford to pay for a room, you’ll be living on the streets. Our university is responsible for your safety. I can’t let you go, my dear.”

His words, so kindly meant, struck her like a blow across the face. The professor had voiced what Lian didn’t want to acknowledge. That her mother was traveling alone at the mercy of a transport system in chaos. That her mother had to cross stretches of occupied territory before reaching Shanghai. That unlike her classmates from Shanghai, Lian and her mother lacked a fixed address there. Could Lian count on the Unity Mission to take her in? And for how long? She had no relatives or friends in the city, so even if she made it to Shanghai on her own, her small cache of funds would soon be spent.

Lian’s chest felt hollowed out. “But what happens when my mother gets to Shanghai and I’m not there?”

“Write to your mother care of the Mission,” Kang said. “Tell her you’ve evacuated with us to Chengtu. When your mother writes back, we’ll assess the situation. If there’s a way to get you safely to Shanghai from wherever we are, I promise we will.”

“But how will she even know where to send a letter?” Lian said. She wouldn’t cry in front of the professor. She was no longer a child.

“We’ll be making stops along the way,” he said. “There will be towns the Ministry of Education assigns for longer-term stays. They’ll publish lists of those places as well as all the universities’ final destinations so that families can know where to send letters and money.”

Lian could only hope her mother knew to look for the lists. She never should’ve left her mother’s side. She should’ve gone to university in Peking instead. Guilt and fear hardened into a lump just below her rib cage.

“Now there’s something we need to do, and I’d like your help,” the professor said, his voice brisk. “With the Library of Legends.”

The Library of Legends. Her reason for coming to Minghua. Lian leaned forward in her chair, intrigued despite her distress. “Help with the Legends?”

“We’re bringing the books with us,” he said, “and I need volunteers to wrap them up for transport. Can I count on you?”

“Of course, Professor,” she said. “How will the Legends be transported?”