BUT MINGHUA 123 did not leave at first light.

Instead there was shouting and commotion, fishermen from the village clamoring at the factory gates. The disturbance spread to the courtyard houses, where servants knocked on professors’ doors and called out in urgent hushed voices. Lian and Meirong threw on their clothes and ran out to the courtyard.

“Stay here,” one of the professors said, hurrying past, ashen faced. “Tell everyone to stay here. Do not leave the premises.”

But if the professors wanted to keep rumors at bay, it was a forlorn hope. The servants who opened the gates already knew why the fishermen had come running up from the lakeshore and the news soon spread. A student had been found dead at the edge of the lake. Drowned. The factory yard filled with anxious young men and women. They scanned the factory campus to look for their closest friends, reassure themselves.

The murmurs in the yard began to echo one name.

The faculty members and Mr. Lee returned, a somber parade. At any other time, it would’ve been a comical sight, the normally dignified academics in various stages of dress. Professor Zhang wasn’t wearing his socks and bare, bony ankles showed above his shoes. Professor Song’s head was still covered with the round crocheted cap he wore to flatten his hair while he slept.

Without being told, the students gathered closer. There was no need to call for silence. Professor Kang cleared his throat.

“There’s no easy way to break the news,” he said. “The fishermen found a student drowned in the lake. We’ve identified her as Wang Jenmei.”

He waited for the cries and gasps to die down. “Mr. Lee and I are going to Hefei to get the police.”

A shocked silence. Then the air began rustling with whispered speculations. And something else. Fear. But only after the donkey cart took Professor Kang and Mr. Lee out of the factory gates did the whispers rise to a fever pitch of noise.

Drowned, the fishermen said, her head held underwater.

Murdered for her politics. It must’ve been the Nationalists.

The villagers brought her body to the coffin maker’s shop.

Like everyone else, Jenmei’s roommates had been busy packing the night before and gone to bed early. She often returned late and they assumed she was at a meeting. They didn’t wait up.

Lian backed away from the crowd and leaned against the wall of the library warehouse. All of Minghua 123 was milling about in the yard. She caught sight of Shao at the far side of the crowd with his friends, his face grim. Meirong was sobbing, her face pressed against Ying-Ying’s shoulder.