THE SOUTHERN BAPTIST Mission refugee camp was only a forty-minute walk from the apartment. Lian felt relief for this time on her own, to think on her own. She and her mother had been apart for only two years, yet so much had befallen them during that time. They had been living as normally as they could, creating a home in rooms that were not theirs, in a city that was trying to do the same amid misery, chaos, and political unrest. They made plans. Plans that depended on a quick end to the war, others that assumed the war would go on for years. Plans for what to do when they had to leave the luxurious flat.

Her mother still had a few gold coins hidden away, sewn into the lining of her wicker suitcase. But those were for emergencies. And even if they used the gold, it wouldn’t last long once they had to pay rent. Even a single room cost a fortune these days. They might have to share with strangers. Their best and cheapest option was to share the cot at the Mission office, if they were allowed. Lian hoped her mother’s attempted suicide hadn’t frightened off the missionaries.

It was clear to Lian that she needed to find a job, to start earning something, whether or not her mother went back to work at the Mission. But every refugee in Shanghai was hoping to find work, even those lucky enough to have family connections. The only connection she had was Shao. She didn’t want to ask him, didn’t want to owe him more. But there was also Sparrow.

She hadn’t told her mother about the Willow Star except as a legend. A topic for the term paper she still wanted to write. Nor did she mention her feelings for Shao since there was no point. Even if her mother had advice to offer, what good would it do? Lian could dream all she wanted but Shao would never love anyone but the Star.

No, he couldn’t even love the Star. The Star had forfeited that when she bargained it away, because she’d wanted her Prince to live comfortably in every one of his reincarnations.

How could she resent Sparrow, who had loved and endured without reward for centuries? It was far better to marvel at the presence of an immortal in her life. An immortal she could call friend. An immortal who seemed to be going along with the notion of a marriage arranged by Shao’s second aunt.

WHEN THE MISSIONARIES and workers learned who Lian was, they gathered around her, clucking sympathetically and asking about her mother’s recovery. They didn’t utter a word of condemnation about her mother trying to take her own life.