“No one seems to care whether I work or not right now,” Sparrow said, “because I brought Shao home. They say I should rest for a while. So let me help.”

“Shao’s letter says Mrs. Deng has left Wen-chou,” Lian said. How did one make small talk with a celestial being? Sometimes she thought she had dreamed the night with the qilin, the evening she had sat with the Star and her sister, a gleaming pair of lights.

“Yes, as soon as Shao and I got on the freighter, my sister vanished,” Sparrow said. “Shao’s brother is taking it hard. It will pass. Men forget.”

“What about Shao’s mother?” she asked. “He didn’t mention anything in his letter. Is she better now that he’s home?”

“She’s not improving,” Sparrow said, “but Shao’s father has agreed to bring in Dr. Mao, the one who treated Shao.”

IT WAS THURSDAY again. This would be Lian’s second visit to Xinwen Bao for news of Meirong. Her steps took her past an alley lined with flimsy shelters, bamboo sticks propping up roofs of cardboard. The weather was still cool but the reek of urine and rot drifted out to the sidewalks. It would be much worse once the hot weather arrived.

The clerk at Xinwen Bao was busy on the telephone, evidently not happy with the conversation, jabbing his finger at a sheet of paper in front of him, a gesture entirely wasted on the person at the other end of the phone. He recognized Lian and gestured for her to wait. On her last visit he had just shrugged and given her a quick shake of the head to indicate there was nothing for her. Finally, he slammed down the receiver.

“The boss has something for you today,” he said, still scowling. He swiveled his chair to the pigeonhole bookcase behind him and pulled out a folded square of paper.

Miss Hu, please come up. I have news.

The Liu family connections had done their work. Lian flew up the staircase and knocked on the door to Liu Sanmu’s office. The handle unlatched and Shao held open the door for her.

“How wonderful to see you!” she cried, too happy to feel awkward about hugging him in front of his father. “So you know the news about Meirong!”

He gave her a crooked smile and leaned against the wall beside his father’s desk. Liu Sanmu remained sitting and pointed at the chair facing him. Lian sat, leaning forward in anticipation. Large windows behind the desk overlooked a peaceful green square. Unlike other open spaces in Shanghai, the lawns of this park were not crammed full of tents and crude shacks.

Liu Sanmu cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Miss Hu. My contacts managed to get release documents for Yee Meirong, but I have bad news.”

Her exhilaration died away, replaced by anxiety. “What’s wrong? Is she ill?”