responsibility to continue the family line. Our daughters will join their husbands’ family when they marry, and their names won’t be recorded in the Kong register. So they serve no purpose to us.’
‘Still clinging to those outmoded Confucian beliefs! I warn you, the modern world will leave you behind.’
‘Huh! Just a few days on the road and already you’ve become worldly-wise! Don’t forget, you left school at eight while I graduated at sixteen, so I’ll always be cleverer than you.’
‘Stop being so patronising. We’re both fugitives now. Let’s see how far your male chauvinism gets you here.’
‘Oh God! I’ve just remembered. I left our Kong family register in the dugout.’
‘Was it wrapped in newspaper, on top of that old edition of the Analects ?’
‘Yes. It dates back to Emperor Qianlong’s reign. It’s the twenty-second volume in the series, and proves that I’m a seventy-sixth generation descendant of Confucius in the direct patrilineal line.’
‘Look how you gloat at being his successor!’ Mother says, pinching his ear.
‘Well, Confucius had to wander through the country like a stray dog after he was banished from the State of Lu. So I’m happy to become a stray dog as well for a while, as long as I have you, my little bitch, to keep me company!’
‘You rascal!’ says Mother, running her hand further up Father’s sleeve to pinch his chest. In the darkness surrounding them, all that can be perceived is their laughter and warm breath. Someone wanders out on deck to have a smoke. Another figure leans out of a porthole to drop an empty orange crate into the river.
‘We’ve been away two weeks now,’ says Meili, nuzzling her face against his jacket. ‘I still haven’t dared write to my mother. What are we going to live on now?’
‘Don’t worry. I signed up to join the demolition team. They pay thirty yuan a day. So we can stay here until our son is born. In a year’s time, I’ll have saved enough money to pay the fine for his illegal birth, and we can all go home.’ He slides his hand up onto Meili’s breast. She feels her face grow warm. He hasn’t touched her for days.
‘It frightens me to think how little we have now,’ she says.
‘Yes, we’re starting from scratch, but we’ll soon have everything settled.’
‘I mean, I feel empty, cut off . . . You won’t leave me, will you?’
‘Never. Let me feel our baby.’ Kongzi lifts Meili’s jumper, undoes the lower buttons of her shirt and places both hands on her belly.
‘What if it’s a girl?’ she says, her heart thumping.
‘Well, she won’t be recorded in the family register with the boys of her generation who’ve been assigned “Righteousness” as the first character of their name.’
‘Never mind, let’s call her “Happiness” then.’
‘Yes, that’s good. And we can still add “Righteousness” to the name when we register her with the government.’
‘You really think we’ll be able to get this baby officially registered?’
‘Absolutely! Once it’s born, I won’t rest until I’ve made enough money to pay the fine . . .’
‘Your hands are freezing. Let’s go back to the cabin.’ As soon as Meili pushes Kongzi’s hands off her belly, he slides them between her thighs.
‘Don’t touch me there, it hurts . . .’ she says, sensing herself losing control.
‘It hurts? Let me make you feel better then . . .’
Meili feels her blood vessels prickle as though filled with scuttling spiders. She stretches out and lets the waves of pleasure sweep through her . . . ‘Don’t press on my belly. Keep going, keep going . . .’ Her thighs tremble against the metal bench; inside her leather shoes her ten toes clench.
With his hand still inside her, Kongzi puts a cigarette to his mouth and lights up.
‘Put that out!’ Meili says, tugging his hand out of her and wiping his middle finger on her sleeve.
A cruise boat sails past, a Viennese waltz pouring from