Shao looked down at his omelet. He knew Lian had hoped the university—and Wendian especially—would believe she had died, a victim of the air raid. He had to protect this fiction, keep her trust. He didn’t know how much Lian was willing to reveal about her mother and it wasn’t his story to tell.

He couldn’t lie to his father. But he didn’t have to tell him everything either.

“The three of us left without saying anything,” he said. “Lian was afraid they’d stop us from leaving. That’s why we escaped in secret.”

“I hope her parents don’t get a letter before she reunites with them.” His father’s expression remained grim. “You realize I’ll have to write the university so they know that you’re alive and in Shanghai.”

“Father, please don’t mention Lian when you write the university,” Shao said. “When I see Lian, I’ll tell her you got a letter from Minghua. That her . . . family will be getting one.”

There was a long silence as his father sliced into a piece of fish. He tapped his finger on the table and a waiter rushed over to refill their tea.

“Well, her family is none of our business,” he said, finally. “If her parents get a letter of condolence, that’s for her to deal with. But it was irresponsible, not well thought out at all.”

His father signaled the waiter for a chit. “I’ve made some inquiries regarding your classmate Yee Meirong,” he said. “All we can do is wait for news.”

“Thank you, Father,” Shao said.

“In the meantime, you can’t sit around Shanghai,” Liu Sanmu said. “I’ve had you enrolled at Jiao Tong University for the summer semester.”

And just like that, Shao was the youngest son again. His father making decisions for him again.

“You need to register for classes before June,” his father said. “I have no preferences, just sign up for whatever will complete your degree.”

“Yes, Father,” Shao replied, quelling resentment. He had to speak to his father about another issue. “Father, Sparrow has changed. She’s more restless now, impatient.”

Now that he was well enough to notice, Shao perceived her frequent absences. No one in the Liu household expected her to resume her previous duties as a house servant right away. She did a little housekeeping then went out. Exploring Shanghai, she said, getting to know it again. Although Shao told himself it wasn’t any of his business, it did bother him.

“What she’s seen, what she’s had to endure, it changes people,” Liu Sanmu said. “China itself has changed, Third Son.”

“She can’t work just as a house servant anymore.”

“You’re right. Sparrow deserves more,” his father said. “Perhaps Second Aunt can find a husband for her. A small merchant who’d like closer connections to our family. It’s time she got married, started her own family.”