You should know our mother is very ill. I have been going back and forth to Shanghai because of this. She won’t allow us to tell you and she would never ask it of you because she says your education is too important and the journey back too dangerous. But I wanted you to know so that you’re not taken by surprise should the worst come.

Shao had to find Sparrow, talk over what to do. It would have to be first thing in the morning, as soon as Sparrow had finished her chores.

“Shao, can I borrow your fountain pen?” Chen Ping stood over him. “I’ve misplaced mine.”

“Yes, yes,” he replied, patting his pockets. “Here. But it’s low on ink, let me find my ink bottle.”

“No need,” Ping said. “I only need to write a very short letter to my father.”

“He is well, I hope,” Shao said, out of politeness.

“Yes. I just found out he remarried. I’m writing to congratulate him.” Ping couldn’t hide his bitterness. “My mother died only last year, you know.”

Shao straightened up. “Yes, I remember.”

“I didn’t even realize she was so seriously ill until it was too late,” Ping said. “I’ll never forgive myself for not seeing my mother before she died.”

Chapter 26

Lian paused to button up against the damp chill of a winter breeze. Beside her, Shao pulled on his gloves, expertly mended along the seams. She pointed at a student hurrying across the parade ground, a scarf of mismatched wools wrapped around his head and shoulders.

“Shorty used to be such a dandy,” she said. “He asked Ying-Ying to knit him that scarf from odds and ends. Who’d guess now that we’re the academic elite of China? We look just like poor folk.”

“And we’re just as itchy.” Shao scratched his arm, where clusters of tiny red spots formed a rash.

“Lice or fleas?” she asked sympathetically.

“Probably both. I’ll have Sparrow buy some alcohol or bai bu roots at an herbalist’s.”

“One of your tutorial students told me about the talk you gave the other day,” Lian said, as they walked across the quadrangle. “You told them to use their knowledge to lift up the poor folk and fight for democracy.”

“Yes. We need to pay more attention to the rural population once this war is over,” Shao said. “They grow our food but can barely feed themselves. Their labors aren’t rewarded properly.”

“And in the meantime,” Lian said, taking one of his gloved hands, “Sparrow mends your clothes for nothing.”

Shao looked genuinely astonished. “Does she?”

“Do you even notice all the ways she looks after you?” she said. “A wife couldn’t do better than Sparrow.” She winced at her thoughtless choice of words but Shao didn’t seem to notice.