Soon after, Shao was old enough for school and worries about his mother became easier to push from his thoughts, supplanted by the excitement of new friends and teachers, books and sports. It became even easier when the Zhu family moved in across the street. The Zhu boys soon discovered how many playmates there were in the Liu estate and came over so often some of the elderly Lius mistook them for members of their own clan. By the time Shao finished high school, he and Zhu Pao had been best friends for years. Shao was closer to Sparrow, but that didn’t count. Sparrow was only a girl and a servant.

Her devotion required no effort from Shao.

Chapter 9

Two scouts carrying lanterns led the way. It was their second night of walking and they would reach Shangma Temple before daybreak. None of them grumbled about traveling on a dark night, with only stars and a sliver of crescent moon to brighten the sky. It was far preferable to nights when the skies were clear, the landscape sharp and distinct beneath a full moon. Starlight brightened the outlines of clouds, picking out a ridge of hills no more than a mile away. Their destination, hidden in the notch of a valley, was not yet visible. They walked silently in a long uneven procession of twos and threes.

Fall was cold this year, unusually so. Even students from the northern provinces felt the chill. For many in Minghua 123, raised in coastal cities and temperate climates, it was pure misery. They wrapped up in every piece of clothing they’d brought, but even with faces and heads muffled, it still wasn’t enough. Fatigue was to blame, demanding more from their bodies than they could spare.

On the road ahead, Shao saw a female student beside a donkey cart. Even if the lantern hanging from the cart hadn’t lit her face, he would’ve recognized Lian. She was alone, Meirong nowhere to be seen. He walked faster to catch up. She offered a shy smile of greeting and the lantern enclosed them both in its wavering circle of light. They walked for a time in silence, then Shao cleared his throat.

“So, Lian, which volume of the Library of Legends do you carry?” he said. This had become a frequent question between students, some of whom had never even heard of the Legends before the evacuation. Some, especially the agriculture majors, made it clear they were reading their Legends book purely out of duty.

“Tales of Celestial Deities,” she said. “And you?”

“Fox spirits, alas,” he said. “Tales of Fox Spirits, Volumes 100 to 140.”

“I don’t think there are that many . . .” she began to say, then they both laughed.

“There’s a big collection of Fox lore,” Shao said, “enough for multiple volumes. But not 140 of them. Just three, filled with variations of the same story.”