“Why are we going south?”

Rosalind’s question cut into an hour of silence. At the wheel, Jiemin seemed to startle, as if he had forgotten that she was sitting next to him. “I beg your pardon?”

They were three days and three stops in. After Rosalind’s stunt in Shanghai, Jiemin was closely monitoring her answers, ready to pull the microphone at any moment if she started talking about Orion. So far she had been adhering to her usual answers—she rather enjoyed slamming the concept of imperialism anyway, so it was far from an unenjoyable job. These stops tucked between the more populous areas didn’t draw large crowds, so she was being smart about how often she annoyed Jiemin, in case he really decided to pull the tour entirely. Only two or three reporters showed up at each stop, writing for their township distributions. The rest were usually townsfolk or villagers attending out of mere curiosity.

“South,” she said again, pointing to the window. The sun’s position in the sky and the current hour told her the direction of their route. “We have been driving down a while now. At 1rst I thought you were only trying to avoid traffic, but this is de1nitely not the way to our next stop.”

The Nationalists had drawn a northwestern route. Though the posters broadcasted a national tour for sensationalism, the truth was that this was very much a regional tour, targeting the rural areas that received Shanghai’s news most. If they crept too close to other major cities, the people in those surrounding areas wouldn’t care much about Lady Fortune anyway. Perhaps they had heard of her, but war moved diPerently through the country, changed

the ways that the papers talked about its saviors. Rosalind’s prime targets were nearby. Or what constituted as nearby in a country so large.

“It is only a small change of plans,” Jiemin replied. He took one hand oP the wheel and rested his elbow to the side. His 1ngers tapped the window glass, betraying a hint of nerves where none showed on his face. “We will rest up at the next town and keep touring, don’t worry.”

“Which town?” Rosalind asked. “The next stop was supposed to be right outside Nantong.”

And since Nantong was a small city—small compared to Shanghai, anyway— it was going to be the next place she went rogue. It would have drawn a crowd. It would have drawn media outlets that spread her claims wide and wider.

“We’re going to drive awhile until we’re closer to Suzhou,” Jiemin replied.

Interesting, Rosalind thought. He hadn’t answered the question.

She turned to face the back, peering through the rear windshield. The passenger seat rumbled beneath her, the engine on the car puffing hard from their daily movement. The Nationalists, to their credit, weren’t working her very hard. Jiemin always drove slowly because they were a 1ve-car procession. At any moment, his modest car was followed by four enormous military vehicles, jammed with soldiers who guarded every stop. Each traveling leg of the journey took about three hours when they set out in the morning; under normal circumstances Rosalind suspected the drive would be faster, but Jiemin would navigate on the more winding roads, his eyes glancing to the rearview every so often to watch for trouble. Once they arrived at their destination, Rosalind was given her own room at whichever inn was the best in town, and she was left to her own devices to read or brew poison by the crackling 1replace until she was needed in the early evening.

“We aren’t being tailed or anything?” she asked.

“Of course not.” Jiemin’s gaze stayed on the road. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “How am I being ridiculous? This is a public tour. We’re a constant target for

attack.” They had soldiers guarding their route, after all. Though Rosalind found no reason to poke the bear and mention the Communists during the media questions, some reporters had asked nonetheless. It would only be good

warfare to ram a car into her while she was touring and take a propaganda 1gure away from the Nationalists.

“Well, there’s no attack coming.” Jiemin, as usual, maintained his monotone. “So relax. Sit properly, would you?”

Slowly, Rosalind adjusted herself to face the front. Since Shanghai sat on the very eastern coast of the country, there were only two choices for traveling outward: northwest or southwest. The tour route started north, going until they reached Nantong, right at the mouth of the Yangtze River. Then they were almost following the river’s Aow, moving westward until Nanjing, curving south until Hangzhou, then east until they were home, performing a loop around Lake Tai. Rosalind had been making calculations the moment she traced their proposed path on the map. If luring Lady Hong out didn’t work as her 1rst plan, her second plan was to slip away a few days from the end, when they were close to Suzhou. Because Zhouzhuang was nearby and, by then, she supposed she would be desperate enough to trust an anonymous note.

But now…

If they were heading to Suzhou now, they were going in the opposite direction entirely. What happened to the original northward route?

“I noticed you whispering to one of the soldiers at the last stop,” Rosalind said carefully. “And as much as he’s eyed you up, I doubt you were merely organizing a rendezvous. If we are not being tailed… are we avoiding something?”

What report have you received? she was asking instead. Has intelligence sighted

Lady Hong coming to attack us?

“Lang Shalin,” Jiemin said dryly. “Perhaps I think Suzhou is nice around this time of the year. There needn’t be a reason why we are doing the tour in the other direction instead.”

“Do you think I’m a child you can lie to?” Rosalind shot back. “I am older

than you. By 1ve years, at least.”

Jiemin shot her a sidelong glance. “I thought it was one year.” “I am frozen in time.”

“Then that doesn’t count. You’re still nineteen.”

Rosalind threw up her hands. “It is remarkably clear that you are lying about your reasoning right now, so—” The thought occurred to her like a Aash of lightning. Suzhou. Zhouzhuang. That letter Jiemin had been writing back when they were working together at Seagreen. “Wait a minute. Are you JM?”

Jiemin frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“JM,” Rosalind said again. “The person who left me that note. I can help you get him back. Find me in Zhouzhuang.”

And at once Jiemin went pale. “Who left you that?” he demanded.

What sort of reaction was this? He both seemed to understand and not understand what she was talking about.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you, would I?” Rosalind said nastily.

Jiemin still looked like someone had stomped on his foot. He peered over the wheel, eyeing an upcoming turn. He didn’t speak again until the gravel crunched under the vehicle, clearing as they proceeded straight.

“You said a JM summoned you to Zhouzhuang?” He switched to English. “J

for ‘jester,’ M for ‘mountain’?”

Now she didn’t want to con1rm it, because she had just put Jiemin on high alert for that location. Rosalind went for a non-answer instead. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

“What part of this confuses you?”

“The part where this note exists at all.” Jiemin shook his head. “Either way, it’s not me. I promise you that.”

But he clearly held some stake in it. “Why did you react so aPectedly?”

“I was surprised to hear you mention Zhouzhuang.” Jiemin’s expression had leveled again, returning to his usual bored temperament. “I have friends there. It’s very small.”

“You weren’t acting like that,” Rosalind insisted. “You sounded horri1ed.” “Maybe I’m horri1ed about why you possess something like that. Who is that

note referring to, Lang Shalin? Is it Liwen?”

Rosalind went quiet. If she said one word more, then she would get the very same spiel from Jiemin that she had already heard. Orion was a lost cause. Orion was never coming back. Orion was a traitor to the nation, and even if the

Kuomintang did catch up to him, it was no rescue mission; it was an assassination. Jiemin had cornered her into the end of this conversation, and he knew it.

“None of your business,” Rosalind grumbled, leaning back into her seat. She folded her arms. “I don’t—”

Jiemin slammed suddenly on the brakes. The whole vehicle screeched, and Rosalind barely kept herself from launching forward into the windshield. What the hell? Even for him, this was an overreaction—

“Stay here,” he commanded, pushing his door open.

Rosalind blinked. Oh, so that wasn’t for her? Maybe she was getting egotistical. As quickly as she could, Rosalind hurried out of the car too.

“I thought you said we weren’t being tailed.”

“I thought I said stay there.” Jiemin had stopped two paces away, looking warily into the distance.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Rosalind pulled out a hairpin. She observed their surroundings too, following Jiemin’s line of sight as the rest of their retinue pulled to a stop. They were no longer driving on a proper paved route, but rather a half-cleared dirt road, proceeding down the length of a 1eld alongside a wire-linked fence. Two parallel lines in the frosted-over grass marked their path, just enough to accommodate the four wheels of a vehicle, still leaving the tuft of grass in the middle. Where Rosalind stood, the grass tickled her calves, icy blades running against her stockings.

The wind blew against her cheeks. She shivered.

“If you’re going to stand there in the open,” Jiemin said tightly, “cover your head. I don’t want to have to explain to upper command that you got sniped.”

Rosalind threw her arms over her head obediently. She wasn’t too concerned. Most people weren’t very good at making headshots from a distance, and if it was actually going to kill her, they needed to shoot point-blank and blow her apart on a level she couldn’t heal from. From here to the distant tree line, she could see only open ground.

“Why are you concerned that…?” Rosalind trailed oP in the middle of her question, 1nding the answer for herself. Only three vehicles had come to a stop

behind them. One was missing. Jiemin must have noticed through his rearview mirror and pulled them to a halt.

Was Lady Hong already here? Rosalind had expected an appearance at an actual tour stop—not somewhere along the route. Lady Hong would always be moving with a large number of soldiers because that was where her power force came from, so how was it possible that she could 1nd them while they were journeying between stops, especially when Jiemin had been driving in a new direction for hours…?

A fourth vehicle rolled into view.

Jiemin drew his pistol. Their backup in the other vehicles got out too, hands to their hips and braced on their weapons.

Then the vehicle got closer, stopped, and one of the familiar-faced drivers stuck his head out from the window.

“Sorry, sorry!” he bellowed from a distance. “I was only helping out a lost couple from the city. We’re clear!”

The other soldiers grumbled, clearly irritated about the disturbance. Jiemin, on the other hand, put his pistol away with only a stony nod. He gestured for Rosalind to return to the car.

Slowly, she lowered her arms, her eyes narrowed. Even after Jiemin returned to the driver’s seat, closing his door after himself and starting the engine again so they could be on their way, Rosalind remained.

What kind of couple from the city came all the way out here? “Lang Shalin,” Jiemin said, rolling his window down. “Let’s go.”

Rosalind nodded. She traced her gaze along the horizon once more, then 1nally got back into the car.

With a breath of relief, Celia leaned back in the passenger seat, watching the soldier drive away. They were parked under the shade of a large tree, having pulled over to feign confusion about their route when the soldier stopped and approached them.

Is there anything I can help with? I noticed you close behind.

We’re a little lost, Celia had lied. She leaned in as hard as she could on her Shanghai accent, patting Oliver’s arm. Poor dear doesn’t know how to navigate. Can you point us north?

“Oliver,” she said now. In that one word, she communicated her entire rebuke.

“Yes, yes, I know.” He opened the door to the driver’s seat, using his foot to kick it wide open. “Fine, you can take the wheel instead. I might have a habit of following too closely.”