She left the warehouse with her classmates and crossed the yard to return to the courtyard house. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Jenmei had been killed for her politics. The murder was a knife stab of a reminder—as if they needed reminding—that China wasn’t just at war with the Japanese, but also fighting a civil war.

Lian’s eyes were drawn to the entrance of the dining hall where Mr. Lee stood, surveying the yard. Cook Tam emerged from the kitchen and joined him. They spoke, their heads close together. As she turned back to her friends Lian felt, rather than saw, the two men gaze in her direction.

Chapter 17

Minghua 123 were on the road again by midmorning. Every so often they heard the buzz of aircraft but, mercifully, always from far away. The Japanese weren’t interested in Hefei at the moment and Minghua 123 was taking advantage of it. Walking in daylight was much faster and they had to make up for lost time. They were glad not to be traveling at night when the air was colder, the wind even sharper. It was a quiet exodus as the students trudged their way west, skirting the southern edge of Hefei.

They lodged in the buildings of a small Buddhist temple, its halls barely large enough to hold all of Minghua 123, let alone the other refugees sheltering there. The students had a long five days of walking ahead of them but no one cared. They just wanted to leave Jenmei’s murder behind.

PROFESSOR KANG CLIMBED the low rise of a path on a small hill beside the temple. A three-quarters moon cast its light on the road below. The path led him to a lookout point with a stone bench, put there for admiring the view. A granite stele stood beside it. The stele was inscribed with a date, fifteenth century. He ran the list of emperors through his head and placed it during the reign of the Yongle emperor. The professor sat on the bench and lit a cigarette, careful to hold it away from the book on his lap. Tales of Fox Spirits, Volume 100.

He thought of Wang Jenmei and Shen. Tallied up against the number who had died so far in this war, against the deaths to come before the war ended, they did not even merit footnotes in history. If Minghua University survived, the two students might find their way onto a commemorative list of students and faculty lost during the war. If someone took the time to write a narrative about the evacuation, succeeding generations might learn how they’d died, where and when.