Each household took turns hosting dinners for their guests. Shao braced himself the night his least-favorite great-uncle came to dinner. Judge Liu and his extended family had left Changchow as soon as the Japanese began marching down from Manchuria. Although the judge’s only son lived in a palatial flat, the judge refused to stay with him. His son’s notoriously beautiful wife had left him for a Hong Kong film director. She was now an actress, living in Hong Kong. It was a scandal for the conservative judge, but Shao couldn’t blame the wife. The judge’s son was about as intelligent as a houseplant, with a personality to match. And he was an opium addict.

Judge Liu generally held a low opinion of the younger generation, especially his nieces and nephews in Shanghai, but for once, he spoke approvingly to Shao.

“That you valued your education enough to follow Minghua University through so much hardship is admirable,” his elderly relative said. “That you risked your own safety to give your mother peace of mind during her illness is even more commendable.”

Shao bowed his head to hide his smile at this unexpected praise. “Thank you, Great-Uncle.”

“How is your wife?” the judge said, turning to Liu Sanmu. “Has your doctor any new insights?”

“I’m going to find a new doctor for my wife even though my mother is against it,” Shao’s father said. “She is loyal to Dr. Wu and thinks it will make him lose face. But it’s been months and my wife is no better.”

“Have you a doctor in mind?” the judge asked.

“Fifth Uncle suggests a British doctor,” Sanmu said. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. “But my son wants me to get this doctor, a refugee. Dr. Mao Ba, the one who looked after Shao during his bout of relapsing fever.”

“Dr. Mao! Can it be?” the judge exclaimed, taking the card. “Physician and surgeon. Yes, the same. So, he’s here in Shanghai. I must pay my respects.”

When Judge Liu first heard of the doctor, it was because of rumors that Dr. Mao had developed a cure for opium addiction. The judge traveled to the small town where the doctor lived to see for himself. He’d done this without expecting much, but where his son was concerned, he had to explore every avenue. He had found, most improbably, a modern clinic and a physician qualified in both Chinese and Western medicine. Dr. Mao was also cultured and well-read, a scholar of the classics. This was the deciding factor for the judge. He put his son into the clinic for two months and the man hadn’t taken opium since.

“Dr. Mao is no simple country doctor,” Judge Liu said. “When word gets around that a physician of such excellence is in Shanghai, you’ll have to stand in line for days.”