says. ‘When the thief saw me, he grabbed two ducks by the neck and bolted off into the hills.’ They search the bushes, find another six ducks, then return the birds to the hutch, bolt the enclosure gate and go to check the bamboo hut. The two crates of ducklings and bags of birdfeed are still there, but the radio is gone. Kongzi runs outside and curses the village: ‘Evil bastards! The ancients were right: “Barren hills and untamed rivers spawn wicked men!”’
‘Be quiet,’ Meili says. ‘The villagers have let us “dwell beneath their hedge”. Don’t antagonise them . . . Oh God! It looks like he stole the cash we buried. What if he comes back to murder us? Who would bury our bodies?’
‘He can’t have found it. I’ll dig a little deeper.’ Since they set up home here, Kongzi has been stashing their cash in a hole he dug beside the hut. ‘Don’t be silly. No one will kill us. During his thirteen years in exile, Confucius toured the nine provinces and never once came to harm . . . You’re right, the cash has definitely gone.’ Kongzi rubs the mud from his hands, tramps back to the boat, sits down at the bow and lights a cigarette. ‘We must view this setback as a blessing,’ he says, watching Meili climb back onto the boat. ‘As the ancients said, “Today’s financial loss prevents tomorrow’s disaster.” Our cash has been stolen so that Waterborn can be granted a safe birth.’
‘Touring the country, you say? Hah! We’re not tourists, we’re fugitives, you idiot. I’m fed up of this vagabond life, Kongzi. You think of yourself as some great philosopher, roaming the country, contemplating the troubles of the world, with me tagging along as your humble disciple. Well, I’ve had enough, I’m telling you! What if that man was from the family planning team? What if he sends his colleagues down to arrest us?’
‘No, he was just a simple village thief. I’ve told you – the family planning officers here don’t care about illegal births. They’re happy for the villagers to have as many children as they want, so long as they pay the fines. The more maimed children are sold, the richer everyone gets. No one wants to kill the golden goose. So stop worrying.’
‘If we can’t return to your village, let’s go back to mine. I want to live in a house with a tiled roof. Nannan should be going to school now. This rootless life isn’t good for us. Let’s sell the boat and go home.’ Meili squashes two mosquitoes on her arm then wipes the blood on the cabin’s canopy.
‘Officers have told your parents to report us to the police if we turn up,’ Kongzi says. ‘So we’ve nowhere to return to now.’
‘But I’m tired of traipsing behind you,’ Meili says, folding an empty plastic bag and placing it under the bamboo mat to use later.
‘You’re tired of me? But I’m a model husband. I don’t play mahjong. The moment I wake up, I make breakfast for us. Didn’t you say you wanted to live in Heaven Township? Once the baby’s born, we’ll sell this batch of ducks and sail south.’
‘I still have another month to go. I heard that in Guangxi Province, family planning teams with metal helmets and shields have been storming into villages to carry out forced abortions. A village priest who tried to take away the aborted fetuses and give them a proper burial was beaten up and put in jail.’
‘This is Guangdong Province – it’s much more relaxed than Guangxi.’ Kongzi turns off the torch and lights another cigarette. ‘Do you remember, in Kong Village, how we’d hear frogs croak until dawn, just like that poem by Han Yu? But at night this filthy creek is as silent as death.’
‘What about the buzzing of the mosquitoes?’
‘Huh! Where’s the poetry in that? Just now, you used the phrase “dwell beneath their hedge”. Do you know which poem that comes from?’
‘Stop testing me. Let’s go back to sleep. You must go into the village in the morning and track the thief down. He’ll probably be roasting the ducks by then, so the smell should lead you to his house.’ Meili lies back down on the bamboo mat, turns onto her side and feels the taut skin of her large belly relax. ‘Oh God, Kongzi! I just realised we left our tricycle cart on the sand island! How could we have forgotten it?’