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her face closer to the fish. She sniffled. "But I'm so sad for poor Wei Ping."
    A crow cawed, unluckiest of birds. Then another, then the whole flock, out of sight beyond the trees, as though announcing the ill fortune of Xing Xing's family.
    Xing Xing looked down at her own naturally small feet. She had always taken pride in them, a pride she kept secret, of course. But now she would have given anything if she could have traded her small strong feet for Wei Ping's big feet before the girl had had them bound. At least with small feet to start with, Wei Ping's ordeal would have been reduced, and maybe her feet wouldn't have given off the stink that drew the demon raccoon to them. Poor, poor Wei Ping.
    And, oh, poor, poor Xing Xing, cast out from her family. "Where will I go now? What will I do?" she sobbed.
    Xing Xing rested her cheek on her knees again. A girl alone in the world had few choices. Everyone said Xing Xing was pretty. She realized in this moment that she'd secretly harbored the hope that someday Stepmother would decide to find her a husband too. Now that would never happen, and her prettiness could well condemn her to a life without virtue.
    She closed her eyes and let the tears slip out sideways, rolling across the bridge of her nose, across her temple, into her hair. In her sadness she imagined many things. Her head became the carp bowl that sat on the ground beside her feet. She was a frog trapped in the bowl, scrabbling at the slick sides. And now the bowl cracked, and a white wave of water washed her out and away, and it was not the pool she was in, but their great, wide river, which in a flash turned wild and swift and carried her into the upper regions of the Han River, then down down down southward into the giant Yangzi River, with its incessant winds, and out to sea, where no frog could survive. Her skin dried in the salt. Her eyes split. Her fingers curled till they disappeared. She heard screaming.
    Xing Xing opened her eyes. Was it her own scream she'd heard?
    The afternoon sun was already moving toward evening.
    "Get up, Lazy One." Stepmother leaned on a cane. Her cheeks were drawn, but the blood that had covered her face and arms had been washed away and she wore fresh clothing. And, most important of all, there was no knife in her hand, nothing to carry out the threat she'd made in the cave. She didn't even hold a willow switch for beatings.
    Xing Xing got to her feet with difficulty. She'd been squatting so long, her legs had cramped into position.
    "Go get Master Tang's slave boy. The two of you can carry Wei Ping together. We are going to Master Wu's grave."
    Had Stepmother truly forgiven her and accepted her back into the family? And going to Father's grave—that was wonderful. Indeed, nothing could be better at this moment than honoring the spirit of Father. Xing Xing stood stupid, afraid to believe her good fortune.
    "Has talking to that evil fish turned you into an idiot?" Stepmother stomped the cane in the dirt. "Hurry, Lazy One."
    Xing Xing ran, with spikes shooting up her legs from her still sleeping feet.
    "Stop!" shouted Stepmother.
    Alas, this fortune had been too good to be true. Xing Xing turned in dismay to Stepmother.
    "Come back and take this bowl." She pointed to the carp bowl on the bank of the pool. "Sell it to Master Tang. No, no, sell it to his wife instead. She has a softer heart. She'll lose it in the clutter of her house, and I'll never have to see it again. Get a good price."
    The beautiful fish was too large for that bowl now anyway. The fish would be much happier free in the spring-fed pool. Xing Xing came back, bowed once before Stepmother, then picked up the bowl.
    "Walk," said Stepmother. "You mustn't break the bowl. But walk as fast as you can. And"—she pointed her cane at Xing Xing—"never say a word to anyone about what happened today. Once Wei Ping is married, we will find a way to explain to her husband. A way that doesn't mention