can do Year 3 homework, Nannan?’ Mother says. ‘Clever girl!’
‘She knows more characters than you do now, and she can write out each of the three hundred Tang poems from memory. She will be a worthy descendant of Confucius!’
‘Daddy, Confucius was an evil man. I wish we didn’t share his surname.’
‘Who told you he was evil?’ Father says. ‘Confucius was a great sage. You should feel proud to have him as an ancestor.’
‘If he was so great, why don’t they mention him in our textbooks? Lulu keeps singing “Down with Kong the Second Son!” but I pretend not to hear her.’
‘I assure you, Nannan: Confucius was a great philosopher and teacher. He taught us to respect learning, honour our parents and care for our young, and lead a virtuous life, even in times of turmoil. He said that people should obey their leaders, but only so long as their leaders rule with compassion. For two thousand years, his words formed the bedrock of Chinese culture. The Communist Party may have cursed him, vilified him, dug up his grave, but his ideas live on. You’re almost nine years old now, Nannan. You must study hard and build up the knowledge that will help you carve a path through this difficult world. Tell me how that saying goes?’ Father puts down the forged exercise book he’s holding and stares into Nannan’s eyes.
‘“Children who don’t read books, don’t know the treasures they contain. If they knew . . .” blah, blah, blah.’
‘That’s right. But listen to me, Nannan. The tide is changing. Confucius’s name is being mentioned in the newspapers. One day he’ll be rehabilitated, and those evil cadres who spat on his corpse thirty years ago will light incense sticks in his temple and beg forgiveness.’
‘Don’t talk to your classmates about any of this, Nannan,’ Mother says. ‘Your school may not teach you about Confucius, but it will teach you Tang poetry, so I’m sure you’ll rise to the top of the class. Remember: learning is a joy, not a burden.’ Mother turns on the electric fan and takes off her dress. ‘Kongzi, I want to open my own shop. I only need twenty thousand yuan to get started.’
‘I’m too busy to talk about that now,’ Father says. ‘Fill up this homework book for me. Use your left hand. No, come to think of it, you write like a child with your right hand so just stick to that.’
‘I want to open a baby shop that sells milk powder, toys, cots,’ Mother says dreamily. ‘When mothers see me stand at the counter with my pregnant bulge, they’ll come flocking in. Or I could sell refurbished computers. This town has mountains of scrap components but no one’s thought of reassembling them to make functioning machines. I’m sure we could earn more money assembling computers than these workshops do taking them apart. We could sell them to people in the countryside. The market for cheap second-hand computers there must be enormous.’
Nannan completes an exercise book then starts writing on the first page of another, her long hair dangling over the desk.
Meili walks barefoot over the white vinyl mat. A large black spider crawls behind her. Kongzi has become very close to Nannan, she says to herself. Perhaps by the time the baby’s born, he’ll come round to the idea of having another daughter and everything will be fine. I’ll find a nanny for little Heaven, set up my own business, then return to Nuwa County and open a chain of second-hand computer shops.
Three hours later, Kongzi is still crouched on the floor, scribbling in the exercise books. Meili has nodded off on the chair, her ink-stained hands resting on her belly. In her dream she sees her future self galloping up a hill, her hair and the grass blowing in the wind. When she reaches the top she takes flight. From a heap of computers below the infant spirit shouts out to her, ‘Keep flying, keep flying. You’re crossing the border. If the soldiers see you, they’ll gun you down . . .’
WHEN MEILI OPENS the door in the morning, she has to drag the children’s bicycles and baby-walkers onto the pavement before she can make her way to the counter. This shop may be small and cramped, but it has given her a foothold in society. With a look of calm contentment, she plugs her mobile phone into the charger and gazes