The cave entrance stood just a few feet above the track, but high enough on the hillside to be safe from floods. Professor Kang directed the two servants in stacking the crates of books against cave walls. The watertight boxes rested on wooden pallets that kept them from directly touching the cave floor. Then they threw a large tarp over the stacks.

Old Fan and Bantien had offered to stay in the cave. They would be caretakers for the Library. They would make the cave their home until the end of the war. They had brought supplies of food, a few pieces of furniture, and kitchenware. The cook’s assistant planned on growing vegetables and there was a village halfway to Zunyi where they could buy other necessities. Zunyi itself was only four hours away.

“Remember to check every day for rodent droppings,” the professor said. “Get a cat if you must. And be discreet. If anyone sees these books, they mustn’t know how valuable they are.”

“Don’t worry, Professor,” Old Fan said. “We’re just one of the many who lost our homes, living in a cave until the war ends.”

“Your wages will be sent to the bank at Zunyi,” Professor Kang said, “and I’ll do my best to come by every so often to see how you’re doing.”

Old Fan chuckled. “Ah, we’re not fooled,” he said. “You want to see how the Library of Legends is doing, and fair enough.”

“Next time you come, we’ll serve you a meal,” Bantien said. “There’ll be a proper latrine and a vegetable garden. Running water, even. I’ll find a way to divert that stream.”

The two had been happy to volunteer for this role. Living in the caves, they were safer from air raids than the students or any townspeople. With no one to look after but each other, their daily lives would certainly be more leisurely. And they believed that in return for protecting the Library of Legends, the gods would protect them.

“Mothballs,” Kang said. “You have the mothballs?”

The servants laughed. “Professor, you sound as though you’re leaving your firstborn grandson behind,” Old Fan said. “Don’t worry.”

Professor Kang knew he was delaying. He shook their hands, the men suddenly shy but pleased at this gesture, more accustomed to bowing than being treated as equals by an employer.

“You’re following in the footsteps of a great philosopher of the Ming Dynasty who made his home in a cave, right here in this county,” he said, climbing back on the truck. “Also, the feng shui here is very good. Farewell.”

“May favorable winds attend your journey,” Old Fan called out.

The truck started up and the professor turned to look behind. The two servants stood on the road, waving until the truck dipped around the bend, out of view.