“They say that Earth Pig people aren’t very bright,” Mei-Ling said a little sadly.
“No need for that here,” Mother pointed out. “There is another thing about people born in an Earth Pig year,” she continued. “They are afraid of people laughing at them because they are simple and trusting. You must always encourage him. Make him feel happy. Then he will work well.”
The next day, Mei-Ling dared to ask: “What if it’s a girl, Mother? What will a girl be like?”
The older woman, however, wasn’t interested in the idea. “Don’t worry. I went to a fortune-teller. First you will have sons. Daughter later.”
Mei-Ling hardly knew whether she was glad or sorry for this news. But as she looked at her sister-in-law, who was growing big now, it occurred to her that if Willow, as expected, had a boy and she herself had a girl, this friendliness Mother was showing her now might suddenly end.
—
She was surprised one afternoon to receive a visit. Her father never approached the Lung house normally, but when the servant girl came to say that he was outside and would like a word with his daughter, Mother gave Mei-Ling permission to go out to him and even added, “Ask your father to come in, if he wishes.”
He was waiting by the little wooden bridge. He looked sheepish. And he was accompanied by a young man Mei-Ling had never seen before.
“This is a friend of Nio,” her father said. “He has a message from him. But he would not give it to me. Only you.” He backed away.
Mei-Ling looked at the young man. He was maybe twenty-five, slim, handsome. He smiled. But there was something about him she did not like.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“They call me Sea Dragon,” he replied. “I know your Little Brother. And as I was traveling this way, he gave me a message for you. He wants you to know that he is well.”
“Is he in the big city? In Guangzhou?”
“Near it.”
“What is he doing?”
“He is well paid. One day maybe he will be rich.” The young man smiled again. “He says he does not want you to call him Little Brother anymore. You should call him Cousin from Guangzhou now.”
Her heart sank. Was her Little Brother telling her he’d become another person? Had he joined a criminal gang?
“Is he armed?” she asked nervously.
“Don’t worry. He has a dagger and a cutlass.” He’d misunderstood. “He is very good with the knife.” He laughed.
“Does he work by land or by sea?”
“By sea.”
Her father came forward again.
“We should go,” he said. And Mei-Ling nodded. She knew all she needed to. Nio was a smuggler or a pirate. It was all the same. She had a terrible feeling that soon he would be dead.
◦
Run for your life. John told himself to forget the missionary’s warning. Pointless to think about it. He just needed to get to Canton and meet Tully Odstock. He’d know what was going on and what to do.
God knows, he thought, if I can’t trust the Odstock brothers better than a Dutch missionary I hardly know, then I shouldn’t be in business with them.
If only the Dutchman’s words would stop echoing in his mind.
They reached the gulf that was the entrance to the Pearl River system that afternoon.
“See those peaks?” McBride pointed to a distant rocky coastline just visible on the horizon. “The nearest is Hong Kong island. Nothing there, except a few fishermen. But it’s got a fine anchorage. Good place to shelter in a storm.”
Read joined Trader and they gazed towards the rock of Hong Kong for a while.
“They say Odstocks do well,” the American remarked. “Did you ever meet the old father?”
“No. He retired to England.”
“They tell me he left quite a reputation.” He grinned. “The devil incarnate, people called him. Sharp as a needle.”
Trader frowned. Was the American giving him a gentle warning about Odstocks? He wasn’t sure. “I’ve known Benjamin quite a while,” he said. “He’s a good man.”
“And the brother in Canton?”
“Tully Odstock? I haven’t met him yet.”
Read looked surprised. “I’d want to know a man pretty well,” he said quietly, “before I became his partner.”
“You think I rushed into this business?”
“Most men in love think destiny must be on their side.” The American nodded sadly. “I’ve been there myself.”
“I suppose I go with my gut,” said John. “If a thing feels right…” He shrugged. “It’s like being pulled by the current, down the river of life.”
“Maybe.” Read considered. “In my experience, Trader, life’s more like the ocean. Unpredictable. Waves coming from all sides. Chance.”
“Well, I think I’m on the right road,” said John.
It was midafternoon when they passed Hong Kong. For several more hours the ship made its way between the small, friendly-looking islands scattered across the entrance of the gulf until, just as evening was beginning, they came in sight of Macao.
Macao island was a very different sort of place. Inhabited by the Portuguese for centuries, it had a shallow bay and steep slopes sprinkled with houses, villas, churches, and tiny forts that looked charming in the evening sun.
They dropped anchor in Macao Roads. A jolly boat came out, and Read got into it to go ashore. “Maybe we’ll meet again,” he said as he and Trader shook hands. “If not, good luck.”
—
The journey from Macao to Canton started the following dawn and took nearly three slow days. McBride didn’t talk much.
The first day they made their way up the gulf. Around noon, Trader saw some sails on the horizon.
“Lintin rock,” McBride grunted. “Where the opium cutters unload. Out of the Chinese governor’s sight.”
During the afternoon, as the gulf began to narrow, Trader could see, away on his left, a distant shoreline of endless mudflats, with the mountains rising behind them. Was it just his imagination, or were they staring down at him ominously?
The second
