an inflatable safety ring and wedges it under her head. Kongzi puts his arm around her and enters her from behind. Their breaths smell of the fried fishwort they ate for breakfast. Meili’s forehead and cleavage perspire and the blue veins on her belly pulsate. A stench of dead fish rises through the cracks in the wooden deck. The boat rocks from side to side as Kongzi moves in and out of her. A sense of well-being spreads through her soft ample body. ‘Careful of my belly. Gently, gently . . .’ Her head pressed against the bow, she raises her hips and clenches her thighs. With a loud groan, Kongzi releases a river of sperm into her and sinks back down onto the deck.
Suddenly Meili sees the infant spirit flit before her eyes, laughing inanely. Waking from her daze, she pushes Kongzi back. ‘Get out of me,’ she cries. ‘I don’t want to give birth to a dead child.’
‘Stop worrying! Everything will be fine. We’re living on the river now. We’re free! Look at the beautiful view . . . “The distant shadow of the lonely sail vanishes into a blue-green void. / All that can be seen is the Yangtze River flowing to the edge of the sky.”’ He fumbles for his matches and lights another cigarette.
‘I just saw the infant spirit again,’ says Meili, still catching her breath. The moon has become hidden behind clouds and the scent of osmanthus in the air seems to be flowing from her skin.
‘You were dizzy. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you. I always follow Confucius’s advice: respect the gods and the spirits of the dead, but keep your distance from them.’
‘But I saw the spirit. It flickered right in front of me like a candle flame, then drifted to my belly button and vanished. It must have returned to Happiness’s body.’ She sits up and brushes off the insects that have settled on her bump. Then she looks out at the river glimmering in the darkness and sees a white polystyrene lunch box float by. A few days ago, she saw a dead baby with thick black hair float by just as slowly. As it passed, children climbed onto a rocky outcrop and prodded it with long twigs.
‘Happiness is punching me again,’ she says. ‘Look, you can see its little fists poking out! It wants me to give birth to it on the river so it can float to the sea and travel the world. It won’t be long now. Just another week or two.’
Kongzi puts his hand on hers and exhales a cloud of smoke. Inside the cabin, Nannan coughs in her sleep. Meili looks up at the broken town. The ancient houses at the base of the mountain are flattened now, while the jagged edges of the unfinished structures above seem like the ramparts of a ruined city. On this single mountainside the past, present and future appear to have merged. Meili senses that her own future is hovering in the air above her, swirling about like the millions of sperm that are now entering her cervix.
She lies back, rests her head on Kongzi’s thigh, then wipes her damp forehead and says, ‘Here, give me a puff of your cigarette.’
AT THE END of a long day, looking grief-stricken and dusty, Kongzi shuffles across a raft moored close to the bank, steps onto the boat and collapses into the cabin.
‘So you got through?’ asks Meili. When she sees the look of despair in his eyes her heart sinks. ‘What’s the matter? What’s happened?’
‘Our house has been torn down. They bulldozed it, just like I bulldoze those buildings up there every day. They didn’t leave so much as a window frame.’ He digs into his large pocket and pulls out a small plastic doll with long yellow hair and a red dress which he found on the demolition site. He taps the dust off its face and hands it to Nannan.
‘They’ve demolished our house? What about the walnut wardrobe where I kept my photographs and my grandmother’s bamboo lute?’
Kongzi lights a cigarette and presses it to his lips. A dragonfly that settled on the side of the boat darts into the air.
‘And your parents?’ Meili asks. She sees the ducks she let out to swim a few moments ago head for the shore, and wishes she could return them to their cage.