Sect Year 2 · second month · day 12 · the capital, the lodging-house by the canal
The stove was lit and the shutters were closed against the canal wind, and the room had the close warmth of a place where people had lived for a long time without leaving it much. Pei lay on the floor by the stove with her blanket up to her chin and her boots set neatly beside the bucket. She had eaten two bowls of millet and fallen asleep over the second. Su sat at the small table under the window with the book open. Lin sat across from her with his hands folded on the wood, because it was evening and that was where he sat for it.
Su read his entries back to him each night. She did it in her flat, exact voice, the one she kept for things that were going into the book, and she didn’t look up while she read. He had heard the entries every evening since the first month. He had learned their shape as he had learned the lanes outside: the copy hall at first light, the lamps at dusk, the market road, the man in the grey coat with the blue bowl at his wrist.
