The two sisters went to the square in front of government house， sitting on the stones and looking at the landscape of the town below， its streets etched like bonsai branches. The town was built within the embrace of the mountains， centering on a long street of flagstones. It was said that during the time of Qing's Emperor Yongzheng stonemasons took the rocks from the western mountains， polishing them smooth as mirrors so that they would not get muddy during rains or grow dusty in hot weather. On either side of Stonebridge Street were rows of wooden houses， and stores all made of removable wooden boards. On market days， two or three miles of people followed the meandering roads and converged upon town， filling the streets like bees bustling upon a flower. They set up their stalls and sold eggs， dried meat， tobacco， general merchandise and clothing. They carried baskets on their backs as they wandered， or used grass ropes to tie pigs and sheep who followed， aggrieved， behind them， their animal-faces like that of a cadre who， though hurt， still wishes to maintain at least the dignity of holding onto a stable wage.
Yingnü found a few walnuts in her bag. After some time， she found on the ground a stone the size of a fist. She crushed the walnuts carefully， blew away the shell， and ate the walnuts piece by piece. She said， "Zhaonü， how long are we going to wait here？"
Zhaonü said， "He has to come out eventually."
Yingnü said， "Actually， there is not much fun in being a teacher. You can only make a little money， no more than one hundred per month， but you have to be controlled and supervised every day. It is better to do business in town. Look at that western style building in town， which belongs to our old schoolmate Juzi's family. Her father has only been doing business in town for two years， yet he made great fortune out of it." Yingnü pointed to a three-storey concrete building with a balcony that stood at the entrance of the town. It was painted in white and covered with green plastic piles， and was much higher than the wooden walls of its neighbours. It stood out like a star， like a distinguished celebrity on stage decked out in clothes her fans could never afford. Yingnü said， "Juzi's family has everything."
Zhaonü did not speak， listening only for the sound of activity upstairs， people coughing and speaking. Suddenly people started coming down and she stood up， looking helplessly at the cadres' faces as they went gliding past. She waited， but there was no sign of the Chief. She went up the stairs， calling to Yingnü to follow.
In the smoky air of the conference room at the end of the corridor she caught sight of the Chief. He was alone on the rostrum， learning back and resting his feet on a chair in front of him， lost in thought， his face thin.
Zhaonü called to him. The Chief， startled， withdrew his feet， looking around to see who called， his mouth agape. Dragging Yingnü with her， Zhaonü stepped forward and addressed him again.
His face was hard.
"What is it？"
"There's something I've come to you to discuss."
The Chief's gaze dropped， avoiding the girls' presence， and he stood up， taking a cup of half-finished tea from the table.
"If you girls have some business you should take it to the women's association first. They're downstairs. I have a lot to do."
"Chief， please listen."
Moving to leave the room the Chief said： "I've got a meeting to call soon. How about you two look for the women's association？" And with that， unwilling to hear anything by way of reply， he hurried downstairs.
Zhaonü， dazed， watched him go， tears unexpectedly coming to her eyes. Yingnü pulled her away.
"Let's go already！" The anger in her voice was palpable. "What kind of guy is this， this Chief？"
The sunset was dazzling that day， the trees all over the mountain abloom with red flowers like pulsing flames， dazzling and burning their eyes， the path leading out of town growing thin like a spider's legs. Zhaonü did not say anything as she followed Yingnü heading out of town， but suddenly she called：
"Yingnü—shall we go back？"
"You still want to see the Chief？ Go ahead. But you can forget about me coming with you this time."
Yingnü， face red with frustration， turned and walked away as Zhaonü headed back alone to the government house. Zhaonü reached the stones of the entrance and sat down. As the twilight sank in， the sound from upstairs rose and fell. She heard the monotonous bell ringing through the sky above， which could be from the town school or the government dining hall. And the shadows of people came and went， right there before her eyes.
Motionless， she sat up and turned around， focusing her gaze on the distant， darkening mountain ranges， their curves sculpted like stone. The moon rose， thinly veiled in cloud and yellow， its remoteness somehow setting her at ease.
From the distance， the sound of footsteps， coming closer. Then， as if no time has passed at all， they were behind Zhaonü.
"What on earth are you doing out here？"
Zhaonü stood up. She looked carefully at the Mayor.
"Dragon Boat Village doesn't have any other senior high school student with my qualifications." Zhaonü took a thick deck of certificates from her school bag. "The school's old teacher died. I can teach."
The Chief spoke softly.
"This is a matter you should bring to the Village Head's attention， you know."
"The Village Head has a son. He said either his son or I could do it. But he also said that， if it's me， I would have to marry his son first."
The Chief was silent. He leafed through her certificates heavily， lifting his head in the moonlight. It was hard to make out his expression.
"You go home，" he said. "Go home."
Without a word Zhaonü turned to go. Behind her， the Chief called out.
"What's your name？"
"Tian Zhaonü，" she said.
The moonlight lengthened the Chief's shadow. It reached to her heels， such that she appeared to be standing at his shoulder.
