Outside the factory’s front gate, campfires burned against the brick wall. When travelers saw the handmade sign for Minghua University, many came in to beg for shelter. Even after some of the students reported cash and small items being stolen, Professor Kang still allowed travelers to camp inside the walls, but with added precautions. Two of the laborers stood guard on Scholars’ Lane while two more watched the gate.

Lian walked past bands of travelers cooking their meals on charcoal braziers. The flickering glow cast cruel shadows on gaunt faces. She felt suddenly and irrationally fearful. She turned her eyes away as she hurried past and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she reached the double doors of the courtyard house. The old gatekeeper who used to work for the factory owner bobbed his head at her and returned to his pipe.

The sound of conversation from the courtyard made her pause. She’d hoped for a bit of solitude. There were people in the courtyard garden, screened from her view by shrubs of rhododendron and tall bamboos. Lian moved quietly along the brick walkway that bordered the courtyard, then stopped when she recognized the speaker’s confident tones.

“The meetings aren’t just for students, you know,” Jenmei said. “If anything, it’s working-class folks like you who need to learn about the rights you’d have in a socialist country.”

She sounded harsh, almost accusing. It wasn’t the persuasive, playful voice Jenmei normally used when coaxing people. Lian stayed out of sight, backing into the corner of the courtyard, a dark shadowed space between two houses. She peered out from behind the wall but still couldn’t see past the bamboo.

“Thank you, Miss Wang, but it’s not for me.” A second voice, clear and lilting. Sparrow.

“Your young master attends these meetings,” Jenmei said. “I thought you followed him everywhere. You followed him from Shanghai to Nanking. And now on this trek across China.”

“I’ve no interest in politics, Miss Wang,” Sparrow said. “Please excuse me, I have duties.”

“Wait, Sparrow, wait,” Jenmei said. “You know him better than anyone. How can I win him to our cause?” The plaintiveness of her voice, so different from a moment ago, made Lian think Jenmei didn’t really mean the Communist cause.

There followed a long pause. “He’s searching for something you can’t give him, Miss Wang,” Sparrow said.

“And what is that something?” Jenmei said, her voice bitter. “Do you give it to him? Besides washing and mending his clothes, what else do you do for him?”

The sound of a slap. And then a gasp, a shocked intake of breath.