Kongzi wakes up, she tells him to join the children in the fields.
Mr Sun reappears in a flustered state. ‘Can you take the morning off work today and help us out, Meili? I’ve ordered a bus. Go to the intersection and flag it down. Here’s the driver’s business card.’
When Kongzi ushers the children onto the clean bus, he wishes he’d had time to put on his usual suit and tie. The children glance at his mud-splattered shorts and dirty flip-flops, and smirk. He’s due to teach a maths class and two literacy classes this morning, but he has no textbooks with him, nor do most of the children.
‘Keep going,’ Meili tells the driver, pointing the way with her left hand, which she quickly hides in her pocket, embarrassed by the missing finger. ‘Just stick to the quiet roads.’ Then she looks over her shoulder at the children, saying, ‘How about I teach you a song?’ The children cheer and clap. ‘All right. This one’s called “Waking from a Dream”. It’s the theme tune for a new TV series you might have seen: I remember you describing Heaven to me, drawing the outline of a house with your finger . . .’ Her phone rings. She presses the answer button. ‘Yes, I’m the general manager,’ she says. ‘Fine. I’ll send my assistant to inspect the goods at midday. And remember, we want hard box packaging . . .’
The bus drives on through a string of quiet villages. Poplars, willows and telegraph poles slice through the view outside the window. When a fresh breeze blows into the bus, Meili knows they’ve left Heaven Township behind. The bus stops at the edge of the next village. Apart from two figures in the distance and the aerials swaying on the roofs, everything is still. A pale blue banner proclaiming NEW TRENDS IN MARRIAGE AND PROCREATION SPREAD THROUGH THE NATION; FLOWERS OF JOY BLOOM IN EVERY HOUSEHOLD hangs from one end of the village to the other. The long empty road makes Meili nervous. She tells the driver to carry on and stop at the crossroads so that if the police turn up, they’ll be able to escape.
Kongzi stands at the front of the bus, opens a textbook he’s borrowed from a child and says, ‘Turn to Lesson 18, please, and let’s read out the story at the bottom of the page. Altogether now: “The Raincoat. Late one night, Premier Zhou Enlai was working feverishly by candlelight when suddenly there was a clap of thunder and a heavy rain began to fall. He immediately ordered his maid to take a raincoat to the man guarding the gate. The maid draped the coat over the guard’s shoulders and said: ‘Premier Zhou asked me to give this to you, and to remind you that one must never stand under a tree during a thunderstorm.’ The guard was so moved by the premier’s thoughtfulness that he didn’t know what to say.”’ Kongzi returns the textbook to the child and says, ‘Right children, make a list of the new vocabulary.’
Two hours later, the bus turns round and heads back to the school. Meili kneels on her seat and says, ‘Don’t worry, students. We should be back soon, so you won’t miss lunch.’ Smells of nitric acid from a workshop outside flow in through the open window.
‘Auntie Meili, how come you still haven’t given birth to your baby?’ asks a boy at the front who has a worm-like bogey dangling from his nose. ‘Nannan told me it’s been inside you for four years.’ A yellow-clawed eagle is embroidered on the front pocket of his red coat.
‘I’m waiting for the baby to become legal, so that it can get a residence permit,’ she says, thinking on her feet. ‘Otherwise it will be like you lot, and won’t be allowed to attend a proper school.’ She’s wearing jeans, a red-and-white-striped shirt and gold earrings today. If she had glasses on, she’d look like a teacher of a government primary school.
Lulu is sitting next to Nannan. She raises her unblinking goldfish eyes to Meili and says, ‘My dad told me my residence permit is fake. Does that mean I won’t be able to go to university in Beijing?’
‘What’s the point of us studying, Teacher Kong, if none of us will be allowed to go to university?’ says a chubby boy with hair neatly parted down the middle.
‘I want to be a judge when I grow up, and sentence all the family planning officials