Not waiting to hear his response she hurried to the library warehouse, books clutched tightly to her chest. She’d done it, but there was nothing to worry about. Shao’s father ran one of Shanghai’s biggest newspapers, his family owned banks and ships. They were the confidants of top government ministers. Nothing would happen to Shao. But Jenmei might be expelled. The meetings would stop and there wouldn’t be any more spying to do.

And there wouldn’t be any more trysts by candlelight.

“WE ALL KNOW what the Nationalists want for China,” Chen Ping said. “But maybe I should hear some other points of view directly. Not through a newspaper politically biased toward the government. How can I defend or denounce either position without knowing the facts?”

Shao knew Ping’s interest in politics was purely academic, but he didn’t want his friends to have more to do with Jenmei than necessary. She’d intrigued him at first, her strong will, her confidence. She brimmed with purpose. Lacking any of his own, he’d envied her convictions.

Her attentions had not gone unnoticed by his friends.

“She’s been waiting a long time for you to get within striking distance,” Shorty said. “Lucky for you I’m not taller. I know she’d find me irresistible.”

Jenmei had become more outspoken, recruiting students and even servants. Although she promised members anonymity outside the Communist Students Club, Jenmei was using the fact that Shao had attended a couple of meetings to induce others to join. He didn’t like that. When he’d distanced himself from her, Shao hadn’t thought she’d be the sort whose feelings were easily hurt. He should’ve seen through her façade. He should’ve listened to Sparrow’s warnings.

“Don’t waste your time, Ping,” Shao said. “Not tonight at least. We need to get ready for the morning.” Their time at the factory campus had come to an end. They were leaving Zhongmiao Village the next day.

Shao packed all but the few items he would need in the morning. He climbed into bed by the dim light of the one lamp that still burned inside the bunkhouse. Most of his dormmates were already under the covers, getting in as much rest as they could before the long walk. The students couldn’t wait to get to a larger city. They were desperate for mail from home, and not just because they needed to know their families were safe. Out of touch, unable to draw on bank accounts, they were running low on cash and Shao was no different. He had lent a great deal of money to his classmates, never expecting to be paid back. He’d heard that professors were emptying their own wallets, giving Cook Tam money to buy food for Minghua 123.

He turned over and closed his eyes. He had to sleep. They would leave at first light.