The Bashui River’s current ran deep and swift between narrow banks. Here they were more likely to meet bandits than Japanese patrols. The army captain in charge assured the students that bandits in this area were ragged gangs of deserters and petty thieves, unlike the gangs up north, their members hardened soldiers who used to fight in warlord armies. Bandits on this river would never dare take on a boatload of real soldiers. The engines’ steady reverberation was louder than any conversation, but the passengers remained quiet all the same.

Lian leaned on the railing of the second barge, a wooden platform built on a shallow hull, half the deck covered by a brown canvas canopy for shelter against sun and rain. She watched the river, its currents swirling under starlight. Soon they would sail out of the Bashui and into the wider waters of the Yangtze River. Everyone had found a place on deck to settle for the night but she couldn’t stop pacing, her mind as restless as her limbs.

Mr. Lee hadn’t been the same since Jenmei’s murder. He was still cheery and affable, but she could tell he was more nervous now. She shivered, not wanting to think how he might’ve had a hand in Jenmei’s murder. There hadn’t been an opportunity for him to approach her alone; she’d managed to avoid that so far. She hoped that in a big city like Wuhan, with so many arrangements to make, he would have other distractions.

Then there was Meirong. She had recovered some of her outgoing personality. But there were nights when Lian still heard her sobbing. She didn’t know how to comfort her. She wished she didn’t care so much, but once kindled, the warmth of her feelings for Meirong proved difficult to extinguish.

Then there was Shao. Just picturing his face gave rise to a confused tangle of emotions. She ran one finger lightly along the railing, wondered what it would feel like to run her finger along his arm. Stars spilled across the sky, like glittering dust emptied from a celestial bucket.

“So many poems about the moon, but what about the stars?” Professor Kang said, breaking into her thoughts. “The moon comes and goes through its cycles but the stars always shine for us, constant and true. We should honor them more.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way,” she said, “but you’re right. We always have starlight.”

“Your classmates are sound asleep,” the professor said, gently chiding. “You should rest, too, Miss Hu.”