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In the dark, they hurried on. Anyu picked up Matthew when he grew tired, Esther was determined to keep up, and Confucius led them along.

She could barely see what was before her or where they were headed, listening to the echo of their footsteps on narrow lanes.

The bombing in the northern district and the Old City had quieted, but the street fights between the Nationalists and the Japanese had started.

She could hear the firing of machine guns and the explosions of grenades in the distance.

Stumbling and depleted of strength, she stopped now and then, holding Matthew, staying close to Esther.

They’d take a ferry in the Nantao District and sail north on the Huangpu River to the wharf in the Settlement, Confucius said. The water passage, a common transport for the poor locals, was unknown to foreigners, but it was a safe route.

They must have been running for hours when she felt the air change—there was the smell of a river, earthy, fishy, the sound of lapping water, and a strong odor of rotten clams and reeds, and she could see a few skiffs docked along the shore.

The night in this corner was peaceful. There were no frightening warplanes in the sky, devastating surges of fire above roofs, or the awful screams of tires.

They had entered a backland haven. Near the shore, Confucius went to negotiate with a ferryman wearing a pointy hat, and the three waited at the pier; when he waved, they came to the ferryboat.

The boat was narrow and tiny, just big enough for five people.

Anyu helped Esther settle on a horizontal board near the stern and sat next to her, Matthew snuggled between them, and gripped the edge of the boat as it glided in the darkness.

This was her first time riding a boat, and it felt different from being on a train or in a car.

She felt as though she were leaving a land of troubles and being carried away on calm waters, with the night breeze sweeping her face, the starry sky, the silhouettes of skiffs swaying at the swamp, and the steady swing of the ferryman.

Now and then, she could hear the squawks of ducks, the croaks of toads, and the flutters of night birds’ wings.

There was something spiritual, to be close to the water.

She let out a long sigh. It had been a long day since she escaped from Kawashima’s workshop, and now all she wished was to stay safe and live a quiet life.

“I’ve never been to Hong Kong before,” Esther said.

“Me neither,” Anyu said.

“Will you be all right?”

“Mr. Dearborn is there. I’ll be all right. Will you come for a visit?”

“I was just thinking about that. I’ve been wanting to go to Hong Kong for a while.” Esther was quiet. “Confucius, when will we arrive at the wharf?”

“Very soon,” he said.

In the dark, Anyu could only see an outline of Confucius and his hat. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him, and suddenly she hoped the boat ride would take longer. “Esther, how did you come to know Confucius?”

“He came to my shop looking for you. I recognized him. He asked if I needed help. Patrick happened to need a chauffeur so I hired him. He learned to drive,” Esther said.

“He’s a generous man,” Confucius said.

A man from Boston, Anyu remembered. He had been good to Esther. “How have you been for the past three years, Confucius?”

He chuckled. “I’m a promising young man, you know that.”

“How many children do you have now?”

“Children? Why would I have children?”

“Aren’t you married?”

“I’m married to Mr. Dearborn’s car.”

Anyu smiled.

The scenery began to change—the harbor was visible ahead. A palisade of golden beams glittered along the shore; bulbs of lights illuminated the immense cruise ships and sailboats and junks. The wind carried pulsating jazz beats and faint laughter from afar.

When they arrived at the wharf, Anyu disembarked, looking around cautiously.

It seemed business was going on as usual here: families were gathered at the gangway, saying farewell to the passengers; laborers, carrying bulky luggage, were crossing a plank to the ship; the air was punctuated by the sounds of horns and rushing water.

There were no Japanese soldiers in uniforms.

“Confucius,” Esther called out when he headed toward the ticket booth. “Three tickets, please. Two adults, one child.”

“Esther!” Anyu cried out.

“I might as well come visit now,” she said. “It’ll be a huge surprise to Patrick.”

“Oh, I’m so happy. We’ll be together again.” Anyu almost burst into tears of joy. She leaned over Matthew and kissed his face, then Esther’s.

When Confucius returned from the ticket booth, he gave a blue boat ticket to her and two tickets to Esther. “You’ll be surprised to know that they have plenty of tickets available to Hong Kong. You’re on the next boat; boarding has just started.”

Anyu took the ticket and looked at the ship, where the sailor was waving a flag and whistling. “You can come with me,” she said softly to Confucius. “If you want to.”

Confucius’s eyes twinkled in the light from the ticket window. He reached out to hold her hand. “I want to.”

“You do?”

“Look.” In his palm was another ticket. To Hong Kong. One-way. “I was just waiting for the right moment to tell you.”

She laughed, embracing him. This was wonderful. He would go to Hong Kong with them. They would have a new life together. And this time he was no longer a gangster; this time they could live the life they had planned. They were indeed meant to be.

Esther smiled and whispered something in Matthew’s ear. Matthew came over and held Anyu’s hand. Together, the four went to the gangway, joining the crowd carrying suitcases.

There was a commotion from the street. Anyu jumped, looking behind.

Near the telephone pole across the street was Kawashima, her shoulder bound with a strip of white cloth, marching toward the wharf with four Japanese soldiers. And the crowd, panicking, rushed from the street to the wharf.

“Stay calm and we’ll board quickly,” Anyu said.

“I have a pistol,” Confucius said.

“Don’t use it, please. If you shoot, you’ll attract her attention. Act normal.”

The crowd surged fast; a multitude of people rushed around her. Anyu picked up Matthew, fearing she would lose him, and told Esther to stay close. They were only a few feet away from the stern of the ship. Once they boarded, the captain would fold up the ramp, and they’d sail away.

It took longer than she wanted, but finally, they set their feet on the ship, and Anyu felt the deck vibrating and people’s suitcases stab her ribs. When the last passengers came aboard, a sailor lifted the ramp, and the ship pulled away from the shore. She let out a long breath.

“That was close,” Esther said.

“We made it.”

“Look.” Confucius pointed at the wharf.

Anyu put Matthew down and held on to the railing. In the dim light, the wharf on the other side of the water was receding, dark like an abandoned island, but a figure stood, a sharp blade in her hand.

Anyu touched her pocket where the Winter Egg was safely tucked. She had escaped from Kawashima, at last.

Inside, the boat was humid, crammed with passengers. Anyu found four seats near a window and sat down. Until then, she hadn’t realized how exhausted she was. Only this morning she was still in Kawashima’s residence, and now she was going to Hong Kong with Matthew, Esther, and Confucius.

Matthew sat next to her. “What’s in your pocket?”

“A toy.”

“Can I see it?”

“Someday. I’ll show you, someday.”

The ship rocked; several bags slid to her feet.

A wave of voices rose, people crashing their shoulders against each other and apologizing.

Next to her, a man smoking a pipe was saying “Believe me, Shanghai has turned into a pile of rubble, and the war is going to last for a few years. The Nationalists can fight back, but they don’t stand a chance.

The Japanese will take everything they can and destroy anything they can’t take. It’s high time to get out of here.”

Later, Anyu went out of the cabin to get some fresh air. There were only a few people out on the deck; the waves roared, rushing to her ears. She leaned over the railing, looking ahead.

The night was dark; the shore of Shanghai was aflame with golden lamp lights; they grew weaker as she watched, diminishing; the breeze was gentle, carrying a tune that sounded like a man’s voice, barely audible.

She had a lump in her throat. She would not be able to return to this city again, nor could she work as a master jeweler for the rest of her life.

This was a farewell to the city she had called home, a conclusion of the brilliant years of creating and crafting as a top designer of the world.

Had she been given another chance, she would have stayed, to enthrall her clients with her creations, to rebuild her mentor’s name.

She would have lived as a jeweler of the House of Mandelburg and died as the chief designer of the House of Mandelburg in this city.

Yet she was also grateful, for she had the Winter Egg and the Diamond of Life, she had persisted and survived, and she had enjoyed fame, seen greed, and learned about love.

She had come to this city as an orphan and left as a guardian.

She had her beloved family, the people who cared for her, whom she would give her life to protect, who were her blessings.

She couldn’t see Kawashima’s face, nor did she want to think about her; but the princess was out there, searching for her. Except that she would not have her hands on the egg, never again, as long as Anyu was alive.