“I’ve seen this a hundred times before,” a young female voice said. The professor turned to the glowing presence beside him. A glow he knew no one else could see.

“What have you seen before?” he asked.

“Forced migration,” she said.

“In a country the size of China,” the professor said, “there’s always a catastrophe going on somewhere. And in its wake, a populace fleeing danger, hoping to reach safety.”

Disasters were inevitable and China’s history was rife with plagues and famine, floods and earthquakes. And there had been so many wars. Wars between petty kings and rival generals, bandit armies and invading hordes. More recently, revolution. People fled their homes only as a desperate act of last resort.

“This war is different, something else altogether,” she said. “The sheer scale of destruction. This will change China because it will change its people. So many lives shattered.”

There was a long silence as they continued walking.

“You mean the refugees,” the professor said. “They’ll lose their homes and family history when they leave the land where they were born and raised, where their ancestors lie buried.”

“Right now, they mourn the homes and possessions they had to leave behind,” she said. “But soon, even though they can’t put it into words, they’ll understand they’ve also left behind the places that defined them. Where they were known because of their families and professions. Where they had a place in the world.”

“But once the war is over, they can return,” Professor Kang said. “It’s temporary.”

“But that’s just it,” she said. “Many won’t ever return. Others will go back to try and rebuild but their livelihoods will be gone. Shops and factories, livestock and farm equipment. How much of their past will they jettison to move ahead with their lives?”

“After the war, China will rebuild,” he said. “The government will take care of its citizens. Look at what they’re doing for our students.”

“Your students are fortunate in that respect,” she said. “As part of the university, their place in the world is still defined. They’ll still have a purpose once they reach Chengtu.”

“I just hope we can bring them safely to Chengtu,” the professor said, unable to suppress a deep sigh.

“Then about this next town, Chuanjiao,” she said, her voice serious. “We should only rest there one day. I know everyone is tired, but we need to get inland as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” the professor said. “Thank you for the warning. It’s good to have heaven on our side.”

“I’m not heaven,” she said. “I’m only a Star. I can only help a little, just enough to keep our group safe.”

The professor smiled. “It’s good to have a Star on our side, Sparrow Chen.”

IT WAS ON their way to Chuanjiao that Minghua 123 encountered death for the first time.