'There's not so much blood coming out now, is there?' Meili whispers to Nannan. 'Tomorrow there'll be even less.'

'You said this will happen to me every month from now on. Well, I don't want to go to school any more. How come it hasn't happened to the other girls in my cla.s.s?'

'I'm sure it has, they just haven't told you. Before I fell pregnant, I had them too every month, but I could still carry on as usual and wear pretty dresses and nice shoes. You'll see, it's no big deal, I promise . . .' Meili looks down and sees that Nannan has fallen asleep on her shoulder.

'I'm completely stuffed,' Meili says, as the Spring Festival Gala draws to an end. She rests her maimed hand on her belly and feels Heaven's heart thud below her skin.

'Me too,' Kongzi says, taking off his gla.s.ses. During the traditional comedy double act a few minutes ago, he roared with laughter. After a long silence he says: 'At Spring Festival people go to the temples to give offerings to the Jade Emperor, the Bodhisattva of Mercy and the G.o.d of Prosperity, but no one thinks of giving offerings to Confucius.'

'It won't be long now. I read on the internet that the government said that Confucian thought still has a lot to teach us. They're even publishing books explaining how we can use his philosophy in our daily lives.'

'That was just for the Olympic bid. The Party wanted to give the impression that China still has a strong traditional culture, even though thirty years ago it ripped Confucianism to shreds and replaced it with the foreign creed of MarxismLeninism.'

'Who cares what the Party's motives are? Confucius is officially back in favour, so perhaps little Heaven will be less afraid to come out now . . . You must stop buying Nannan sweets all the time. She already has two rotten molars. Poor girl. It is strange she's started menstruating so young. I didn't have my first period until I was fourteen.'

'It must be the chemicals in the water.'

'Let's leave her to sleep and go for a walk.' Meili tucks a quilt around Nannan then changes into her favourite pale blue jeans. She saw a picture on the internet the other day of a woman in stonewashed jeans and a white shirt knotted at the waist, and liked it so much she used it as the background for her computer screen . . . Won't you come out, little one? she whispers, glancing down at her bulge. Tomorrow, you'll have been inside me for five years. Give your poor mother a break.

Since the migrant school broke up for the Spring Festival holiday, everything has quietened down. In the moonlight, the concrete yard, durian tree and aluminium warehouse appear as scratched and blurred as an old black-and-white photograph. Along the road that follows the river, ghostly figures drift through the darkness with lanterns swinging from their hands. Light from a street stall reveals a woman carrying vegetables on a shoulder pole and a man wearing a large baby's head made out of papier mache. Fireworks explode in the sky, and the outline of distant buildings becomes briefly visible. When Kongzi and Meili reach the end of the road, they follow the crowds to the bustling forecourt of the Town G.o.d Temple. Pink and red paper lanterns hang down from the surrounding trees and the temple's pointed eaves. Food stalls decorated with festive red banners are selling steamed buns, sesame rolls and peach-shaped rice cakes. The stalls nearer the entrance sell imitation paper money and bundles of incense sticks.

'Are those two supposed to be married?' Meili asks, pointing at the painting on the entrance door of a beautiful girl and a white-bearded old man.

Kongzi has no idea who those two deities are supposed to be. He takes Meili's hand and leads her inside, saying, 'Let's light some incense and ask Sacred Father of the Sky to grant us good fortune in the new year.'

'Our accountant comes to this temple every day after work. She said she's going to pray to the G.o.d of Wealth on the fourth day of Spring Festival, the Golden Flower Mother on the sixth, then she'll visit the Shrine of the King of Medicine and the Temple of Lady w.a.n.g. She never stops . . .'

The temple's interior is brightly lit with candles, and thick smoke is rising from an incense column that is taller than Meili. People rush past, carrying roasted swine heads, fried fish and deep-fried chickens to place on the altars of their chosen deities.

Kongzi points to the small statue of the Golden Flower Mother, who is flanked by the G.o.d of Grain and the G.o.d of Landowners, and says, 'Look, there she is. The G.o.ddess of Fertility and Childbirth. You should pray to her, and beg for a safe delivery.'

'Little Heaven is afraid of coming out into this h.e.l.l there's nothing the G.o.ddess can do about it,' Meili says, crossing her arms protectively over her belly. 'It's too crowded in here. All those firecrackers going off outside frighten me. What if this place caught fire? Let's go home. We can come back in the morning.'

'Don't say the word "h.e.l.l" on New Year's Day!' Kongzi says angrily.

'Well, I'm leaving are you coming with me or not?' Meili says, her heart racing as images of the burning nightclub flash through her mind.

'Firecrackers can't cause fires. Listen, we've come all this way, we might as well light some incense while we're here.' Then looking up and seeing the terror in Meili's eyes, he changes his mind. 'All right, all right, let's go then.' They turn round and head for the door, two downcast figures pushing their way through the excited crowd.

Later that night, Meili is woken by another thunderous burst of firecrackers. She wishes she could seal the window and door to keep the noise out. Without peace and quiet, her thoughts cannot rise to the surface. During these past nine years, the only chances she's had for quiet reflection have been when she's woken in the middle of the night. At such moments, she's able to think quietly about her born and still unborn children, and about all the various Meilis: the woman, the mother, the young girl who loved to laugh and sing, the labour camp inmate, the escapee, the businesswoman. She lay awake like this, her mind deep in thought, on the terrible summer night when she felt herself sink to the riverbed with Happiness's corpse; the autumn nights after Waterborn was taken from her; those muggy nights after Weiwei left and his tortoisesh.e.l.l gla.s.ses lay under her pillow; and this winter night on which she's learned that Weiwei came all the way to Heaven to look for her. Although the first day of the new year has not yet dawned, she already senses that the past has been brushed away and the new is being ushered in. She knows that if Kongzi is unfaithful to her one more time, she will leave him and make a new life for herself with Tang. To be fair, as far as she knows, Kongzi has only strayed once, and that was only after they arrived in Heaven. Compared to the many men they've come across during their travels powerful cadres who are always surrounded by attractive young women, scruffy peasants who sleep with hair-salon girls several times a week he's relatively upright and loyal. Still, when she's with him, she is never more than a pregnant wife. With Tang, she is a complete person. Over these nine years, she has transformed herself from a shy peasant girl to a strong capable woman. She could never return to those muddle-headed days when Kongzi would boss her about imperiously and she'd obey without question. She thinks of the child that has lived inside her now for five years, untroubled by thoughts of what to eat or drink or fears of what the future might hold. She doesn't dare contemplate what calamities might have befallen her had they not found refuge in Heaven Township, how many times her belly might have been carved open. The Communist Party has no humanity. For them, killing a baby is no different from swatting a fly. She doesn't know when Heaven will finally decide to emerge, but when it does, she will gently lower the drawbridge of her castle and let it travel down her dark road into this h.e.l.l . . . Yes, it's time you came out and tested your mettle, little one, she says silently. I can't protect you for ever. But don't worry, I won't force you out before you're ready. My womb may have been a.s.saulted and abused, but it's still intact, and allows us to coexist with a certain grace. She smiles to herself, proud of being both a woman and a mother: two ident.i.ties seamlessly fused into one body. Tomorrow she will sign up for prenatal yoga cla.s.ses with a teacher trained in Hong Kong. She's heard the exercises help soften the pelvic bones, making childbirth no more painful than laying an egg. She will also go to Foshan to prostrate before the huge Golden Flower Mother statue, and ask her to protect little Heaven and grant it a safe birth. She knows that once the infant spirit leaves her womb, she and Heaven will have to end their symbiotic existence. She understands as well that although life is a long and arduous trek, with sufficient effort, a degree of comfort can be achieved at the end. Little Heaven will come into the world as an illegal outcast who has no right to an education or a job. Meili will try to earn as much money as she can to create a small path to happiness for this unauthorised child, even though she is still uncertain in which direction happiness lies.

In the darkness, she sees Weiwei walk towards her. She goes up to him and says, I can't leave Kongzi. We have raised a daughter together, we share the same bed and the same pillow. I can't abandon this path. And besides, you are not in my heart . . . After daring to imagine this scene, she feels her cheeks grow hot and a sense of calm descend on her. She gives Kongzi a prod and whispers, 'Wake up! It's nearly six. It's unlucky not to watch the sun rise on the first day of the new year.'

'Yes, pour me another one,' Kongzi mumbles under his breath, then rolls over and falls back to sleep. Meili gazes at the Kongzi who ten years ago she worshipped and admired, and feels a pang of regret. The past seems to her as drained of colour as wilting lotuses on the bottom of a dry lake.

'Let's open that bottle of French claret my client sent me,' she says, getting out of bed and slipping into her flip-flops. The jubilant crowds, fireworks and singers in red dresses flashing across the silent television screen fill the dark room with festive light.

'I dreamed of our son just now,' says Kongzi. 'He looked just like me when I was a child. He was standing on a street corner, flicking marbles into a hoop, like I used to do. What fun I had as a kid. I'd come home at the end of the day beaming with pride, my pockets stuffed with the Romance of the Three Kingdoms cards I'd won playing snap with my friends. I wonder where I put my card collection. I'm sure Heaven would like to play with them when he's older.'

'Huh! Little Heaven won't be interested in those cards. You'll have to buy him a computer game, or an electronic doll, if he's a girl.' Meili occasionally raises the possibility that Heaven might be a girl, to test Kongzi's reaction.

'If you let Heaven stay inside you any longer, he might very well change into a girl. Or he might calcify like that stone baby the one I read about in the papers, that a ninety-year-old woman gave birth to after carrying him in her belly for sixty years.' Kongzi takes a sip of the French claret and frowns. 'Ugh! So sickly sweet. Chinese liquor has much more of a kick to it.'

'I haven't tried to stop Heaven from coming out. She's probably afraid to leave the womb because she knows you don't want a daughter. If she is a girl, you must promise to be kind to her.'

Kongzi remains silent. Relieved by his subdued reaction, Meili continues. 'Someone from my family should go to Nuwa Cave tomorrow to pray for a speedy delivery. I wish I could give my parents a call. My brother's due to be released from the camp this month. And I'd like to make sure they received the money I sent last month. I transferred it to my uncle's account the one who lives in the county town. When I phoned him last month he promised me he'd give it to my father.' From this phone call, Meili found out that after her brother was jailed, her father travelled to the county town to complain about the miscarriage of justice. When the authorities refused to listen to him, he stood outside the County Party Committee Hall singing the 'Internationale', with a big placard around his neck that said FREE MY SON. Within ten minutes, the police arrived, and he was bundled into their van and locked up for a week. She pictures her parents' home, the three-room house with the tiled roof and the osmanthus tree in the garden, and remembers how her grandmother would sit with her beneath the tree, brushing her hair and telling her stories of G.o.ddess Nuwa, the deity with the face of a woman and the body of a snake who created the world and humankind. She told her that near Nuwa Mountain is a magic lake that can catch the moon's reflection, and that at the beginning of time, this lake pulled Nuwa down from Heaven. After months of walking around the lake by herself, Nuwa felt lonely, so she sat on the sh.o.r.e, scooped up clods of yellow mud, moulded them into human beings and gave them life. After a while, she became frustrated by her slow progress, so she pressed a rope down into a pool of mud then flicked it from side to side, and when the flecks of mud fell onto the ground they were transformed into a ma.s.s of people.

'Turn up the volume,' Father says, 'they're talking about share prices. I bought some stocks in Shenzhen TV the other day . . .'

Mother holds the remote control and stares blankly at the screen. A spiral of incense smoke rises to the ceiling and escapes into the night through a hole in the roof. The infant spirit leaves the house and slips off towards Womb Lake, continuing its journey back in time.

KEYWORDS: red dust, white uniforms, Golden Flower Mother, Guinness World Record, red envelope, missing person's case.

AFTER A SUDDEN downpour, a procession escorting the Town G.o.d Temple's statue of Golden Flower Mother advances along the wet street. Large crowds pack the pavements. For a moment, all Meili and Nannan can see is a loudspeaker attached to a moving van, from which a high-pitched voice is singing: 'China has entered a new age. The nation is secure and the people live in peace. Dreams harboured for a hundred years are coming true. Happiness will be ours for ever . . .' Behind the van comes a group of workers in red baseball hats, holding a cloth banner that says HEAVEN TOWNSHIP PLASTIC GRANULATION WORKSHOP VALUES EDUCATION AND DONATES GENEROUSLY TO LOCAL SCHOOLS. Meili scans the faces and sees Pang, her wiry plaits sticking out from under her hat, and Ah-Fei, who's wearing thick make-up to conceal her vitiligo. She waves to them as they pa.s.s; they smile and wave back. Meili wonders how Old Shao is doing. Cha Na told her that he contracted pneumonia and has returned to his village in Jiangxi. Drummers appear, followed by schoolgirls in white uniforms, twirling spears and swords. Three boys march on either side, holding placards advertising a supplier of second-hand military electronic components. The humid air dampens the thud of the drums. Meili looks down and sees Nannan gaze admiringly at the schoolgirls' white dresses, white socks and white shoes.

'I wish I could follow them and see them dance,' says Nannan. She's wearing a yellow long-sleeved T-shirt over a red blouse, and jeans tucked into gumboots. The downpour has washed most of the smell of burnt plastic from the air, leaving only a faint tang of sulphur. Meili watches women dance past in low-rise jeans and white shirts, exposing their navels as they raise their arms in the air.

'It's too crowded now,' Meili says, tugging Nannan back from the street. 'Let's have some dim sum, then I'll take you to Foshan to see the largest Golden Flower Mother statue in the county.' She's heard that Golden Flower Mother's powers are at their height today, and that all requests made to her will be fulfilled. She's already withdrawn five hundred yuan from the cash machine to give as an offering. She and Nannan retreat into the entrance of a clothes boutique behind. The aluminium roll-up door suspended above bulges in the middle like the belly of a pregnant woman. Meili has agreed to have dim sum with Tang today, and to prevent him making any advances, she's bringing Nannan along, even though she knows that the infant spirit inside her belly is her best protector. For the last six months, not even Kongzi has dared touch her.

They have to wait half an hour before the statue of the Golden Flower Mother finally appears. She's inside a small wooden pavilion, carried on poles by four men in black mandarin hats and embroidered silk suits. Red powder has been rubbed onto her cheeks, and a plastic baby boy has been placed in her arms. She looks much more alive than she did last night in the Town G.o.d Temple. A few stragglers trail behind, smoking cigarettes and stopping now and then for a chat. Then dancing lions appear, jumping to the beat of more loud drums. The spectators on the pavements stare at them blankly as though they were watching a television show.

Tang has chosen a table at the back of the restaurant. Meili's heart races as she makes her way towards him. She smiles stiffly and grips Nannan by the hand.

'Kung hei fat choi, Tang!' she says, unb.u.t.toning a tailored white down jacket she bought recently to replace the thick, c.u.mbersome one she's had since she left Kong Village.

'So you speak Cantonese now!' Tang says with a smile. 'This town certainly has changed you!' His hair is wet and his face flushed with excitement.

'Sorry we're late. The streets are packed. The e-waste company I used to work for made its workers parade through the streets with banners bragging that it supports education. What a joke! All its workers are illegal migrants. If the company's so public-minded, why doesn't it start by demanding the legalisation of migrant schools?'

'Trying to change government policies is a waste of time. All we can do is find ways to work around them. Look, both you and I are registered as peasants, but I managed to study abroad and you're now a general manager. So we haven't done too badly, have we?'

'You used to go on about wanting to campaign for a cleaner environment, better education and health care, an end to corrupt bureaucracy, but it looks like this town has changed you as well.' Although Nannan is present, Meili is still on guard, and is trying to keep the conversation polite and formal.

Tang orders a few dishes then asks Nannan what she'd like, but Nannan just shrugs her shoulders and sticks her thumb in her mouth.

'A custard tart should be enough for her,' Meili says. She wants to check her lipstick, but is too embarra.s.sed to take out her pocket mirror.

'I've ordered your favourites, Meili: fish slice congee and taro croquettes,' Tang says. 'You're looking more and more like your mother these days, Nannan. You have the same beautiful phoenix eyes.'

Meili is self-conscious about the unsightly brown pregnancy patches on her face and her swollen ankles, and feels that Tang's constant flattery is undeserved. But it pleases her, nonetheless, and is one of the reasons she still likes to flick through glossy fashion magazines.

'A local businessman was planning to let off a one-kilometre string of firecrackers today, hoping he'd break a Guinness World Record,' Tang says, 'but he had to call it off because of the rain.'

'That must have cost him a fortune to make!' Meili says, glancing at the lipstick imprint on her white cup.

'He owns three e-waste companies, and makes a million yuan a year,' Tang says. 'So, tell me, how is your husband liking his new post at Red Flag Primary?'

'Very much. He's so grateful to you for helping him get it. He would've joined us today, but he's meeting the headmaster to ask if he can persuade the local authorities to let him restore the Confucius Temple.'

'To think he's the seventy-sixth generation descendant of the great sage! Well, he's not let his ancestor down! The Education Department was very impressed when I told them he was a direct descendant that's why they gave him the two-year contract. Yes, it would be great if the Confucius Temple were brought back to life. In the Cultural Revolution it was used as the headquarters of the Munic.i.p.al Road Department, but since then it's fallen into ruin.'

'Which G.o.d do you believe in, Tang?' Meili asks, noticing a picture of the G.o.d of Longevity above a potted bamboo tree by the doorway.

'None of the G.o.ds you see in the temples, that's for sure. I used to believe in another kind of G.o.d, but less so since I've returned to China.'

'I want to visit the Golden Flower Mother statue in Foshan and ask her whether she thinks I should give birth.'

'The baby's been inside you for five years now, hasn't it? It's time you let it come out. You've already broken the Guinness World Record for the longest pregnancy!'

'No, there's a ninety-year-old woman in this province who was pregnant for sixty years. Anyway, it's not as if I haven't tried to give birth to my child. I went into labour and pushed as hard as I could, but she simply refused to come out.' It's always a relief to Meili when she's able to refer to Heaven as a girl.

'I've heard that a strict new director has been a.s.signed to the County Family Planning a.s.sociation, so Heaven Township might not be a safe refuge for pregnant women for much longer.'

'As long as I stay near that filthy lake, I should be fine. Officers don't like having to trudge through all the rubbish down there, and even when they do come, I always manage to send them packing. Did you realise that the lake is the same shape as the womb of an eight-month-pregnant woman? To think that I moved to Heaven so that I wouldn't have any more babies! I was a.s.sured the air here kills human sperm. But the first night I arrived, I got myself knocked up!'

'Ha! You make me laugh! You're so fresh and natural.'

'Coa.r.s.e and uneducated, that's what you mean!' It suddenly occurs to Meili that although she can now buy almost anything she wants, her new wealth has given her no meaningful satisfaction. During the years they were too poor to eat out at restaurants, she, Kongzi and Nannan were much closer. They appreciated each other's company more and had time to savour the simple pleasures their meagre income allowed.

'No, you're strong, invulnerable. You haven't allowed any of the ordeals you've suffered to dent your spirit.'

'Well, I've had to develop a thick skin. Can you imagine the looks I've got, walking around town with this belly for five years? Family planning officers stop me in the street and tell me my bulge is bad for the town's image and that I should hurry up and give birth. But I tell them that little Heaven is living in my womb, eating my food. She's no burden to the state. She has a right to stay inside me as long as she likes. I told them that as soon as the government repeals the One Child Policy, I'll give birth to her. As soon as it promises that every child born in China will be given full legal citizenship, I'll tug her out with my own hands, if I have to.'

'You should be more careful. Haven't you read that in other parts of this county, women are dragged off the streets and given forced abortions? It happens every day.'

'I know. It happened to me too, once. The doctors injected poisons into my fetus hoping to kill it, but when he came out, he was still alive, so they strangled him to death right in front of me.'

'That's not an abortion,' Tang says, his face turning pale. 'That's cold-blooded murder! I had no idea you'd experienced such a terrible thing.' He rubs his chin and casts a concerned glance at Nannan.

'So, you see, until this government decides to stop killing children, Heaven is safer staying where she is. As her mother, all I can do is provide her with a warm home. Unless someone comes to demolish it and force her out, she can stay inside as long as she likes. She and I will just take each day as it comes.' She sprinkles some white pepper onto her congee and swallows a small spoonful.

'You're like the heroine of a Victorian novel, rebelling against oppressive convention in the pursuit of happiness! Yes, you have that air of stubborn defiance. Have you read Charlotte Bronte?'

Meili shakes her head, blushing at her ignorance. 'No, I haven't read that book. But do lend it to me, if you have a copy.'

Knowing she was coming out to lunch today, she had her white shirt washed at the New China Hotel, whose laundry is sent to Foshan and returns smelling not of burnt plastic but of roses and osmanthus. Despite her apprehension, she'd been looking forward to this meal, but now she wishes she could grab Nannan's hand and leave.

Instead, she serves Nannan some deep-fried squid and says, 'When I get to the office tomorrow, I'd like to go through last year's accounts and cross off all the bad creditors from our client list. What do you think?'

'Let's not talk about tomorrow. So, tell me, how did you see in the new year?'

'We just ate dumplings and watched the televised gala. Spring Festival was so much more fun when I was a child. At the crack of dawn, we'd walk round the village visiting our neighbours and they'd fill our pockets with boiled sweets.' She remembers tying a brand-new scarf around her head before setting off one new year's morning. The inky smell of the stiff cotton swirled around her all day.

'Have you taken any festive photographs with the digital camera I gave you for Christmas?' Tang asks.

'Not yet. I want the first photograph I take with it to be of little Heaven.' Meili notices Nannan drawing faces on her fingers with a ballpoint pen, and nudges her to stop.

'The camera will be out of date by then! Now we've entered the digital age, electronic products will become obsolete within months. Everyone wants to upgrade to larger screens, bigger hard drives, more memory, so e-waste is growing at an alarming rate. Did you know that Heaven received five times more e-waste this year than it did in the last three?' Seeing Meili's eyes begin to glaze over, he draws a red envelope from his pocket and hands it to Nannan. 'This is my New Year gift to you,' he says. 'There's some Lucky Money inside!'

Nannan opens the envelope. 'Wow! A hundred yuan! Cool! Lulu's mother only gave me one yuan. Thank you, Uncle Tang. Can I buy a plane ticket with it?'

Meili is embarra.s.sed that she's only put ten yuan in the red envelope for little Hong, so she excuses herself, sneaks off to the toilet and replaces it with a hundred-yuan note.

As Tang answers his phone on their way out of the restaurant, Meili takes the opportunity to say a brief goodbye, then hails a tricycle rickshaw which agrees to take them to Foshan for forty yuan. 'What's the point of going to see the Golden Flower Mother statue?' Nannan says grumpily. 'You think she can phone your baby and tell it to come out?' Some of the faces on her fingers are crying, some are laughing.

'Oh, shut up, and stop grumbling.' During the last few months, Meili has tried to be tolerant of Nannan's bad moods, but occasionally her patience snaps.

'Mum, can you put a red spot here between my eyebrows,' Nannan says as they approach the centre of Foshan half an hour later. 'It's called a "Lucky Dot". I read it can protect you from demons.'

'Wait a second, we're here now. Let's get off!' Meili takes out her lipstick as she climbs off the rickshaw, but just as she's about to dab some between Nannan's eyebrows, a large crowd pushes them forward, so she quickly drops the lipstick back into her bag.

They pa.s.s a line of food stalls with greasy mutton skewers smoking on charcoal braziers and semi-raw pigs' trotters simmering in woks, then enter the large temple and are hit by clouds of incense smoke. Meili sits down, and nearly retches from the oily stench and feels Heaven's stomach turn as well.

'Mum, is it true that Heaven won't come out unless I disappear?' Nannan asks, as Meili rises to her feet.

'No, no, what made you think that?' she answers, looking distractedly at the visitors jostling past.

'You said you're afraid of giving birth to Heaven because you've already got me.'

'No, it has nothing to do with you,' Meili replies, taking Nannan's hand and following the crowd into the main hall. When they reach the Golden Buddha, Meili prostrates before it like everyone else, but forgets what she should be praying for. On her left, she hears a young man pray for success in his university entrance exams, and on her right a taxi driver pray for a prolonged rainy season that will bring him more customers. Her mind clearing at last, she clasps her hands together, looks up at the Buddha and prays that her mother's cancer will be cured, that her brother will be released safely from the labour camp, and that Waterborn is not begging on a street corner but is being looked after by a nice family who give her good meals three times a day . . . The loud murmur of voices around her makes her lose her train of thought. She gets up, takes Nannan's hand and goes to look for the statue of the Golden Flower Mother.

'I don't want to see the statue,' Nannan moans. 'It's too crowded in here.'

'Wait for me over there, then,' Meili says, 'and don't go wandering off this time.' As Nannan heads to the entrance, Meili proceeds to the less crowded area at the back where the huge Golden Flower Mother statue stands. She lights an incense stick, goes down onto her knees, and performs repeated prostrations, turning to the side when she reaches the ground so as not to squash her belly. Then she sits down with legs crossed, takes a deep breath, and looks up at the Golden Flower Mother's scratched and childlike face. For a moment, she thinks she sees the painted mouth curl into a smile. Then she blacks out and sees a young girl walking down a dusty path on a sunny day, a hemp sack of autumn leaves swung over her shoulder. She can hear the girl laugh, but can't see her mouth moving. The girl has just crossed a dense forest, and her face is as scratched as the rosy cheeks of the Golden Flower Mother statue . . . Suddenly the stump of Meili's left index finger begins to throb like a sightless eye searching for light. Little Heaven stretches out and rams its head into Meili's lungs, then turns in a circle and punches her navel. After taking a few minutes to compose her thoughts, Meili addresses the statue, saying, 'Golden Flower Mother, your powerful eyes have seen the Five Lakes and Four Seas. I am a simple woman from Nuwa County, and am pregnant for the fourth time. Although the government doesn't want my child to be born, and my child doesn't want to be born either, as her mother, I think I should give birth to her, for a mother must not only conceive children, but also release them into the world and watch them grow. So I entreat you, Golden Flower Mother, tell me how this will end? What does the future hold for me? Good fortune or calamity?'

The Golden Flower Mother statue looks down impa.s.sively and says: 'Praise be to Amitabha, Buddha of Infinite Light. Life is a sea of suffering but turn your head and there is the sh.o.r.e. In time, you will cross the sea, transcend the cycle of birth and death, and reach the other side. But before then, you must deliver the child within you and allow it to acc.u.mulate its own karma.'

'Oh, Mother, I am an outcast. Wherever I go, people tell me this isn't my home. If I give birth to my child in a place where I don't belong, will she be destined to a life of misfortune?'

'You have journeyed through the red dust of illusion, and through suffering have achieved profound wisdom. But your sorrows cannot compare to mine: I have never known the happiness of marriage, the joy of motherhood. At fourteen years old I was s.n.a.t.c.hed from my parents and declared the G.o.ddess of Childbirth. After that, no man dared come near me. At the age of forty, still alone and unloved, I threw myself into Womb Lake and drowned. My bones are still lying on its muddy bed.'

'I never knew you drowned yourself! So you really have seen through the red dust! I thought about killing myself too, a few years ago, but realised that if I went ahead with it, I'd be killing my unborn child as well. But, Sacred Mother, things aren't so bad for you, surely? You must have ama.s.sed great karma through your work in this temple, helping bring new life into the world. And look at all the delicious offerings you've been given: chicken, wine, sesame oil, rice-'

'No, my life hasn't improved since I died. Don't be fooled by my sumptuous robes and ornate flower headdress. Since the foundation of the Communist Dynasty, I've been persecuted mercilessly. When Emperor Mao advocated later marriages and fewer children, I was dragged from the altar and locked in a storeroom, deprived of daylight. Then Emperor Deng brought in his One Child Policy, and my temple was converted into a grain depot. Now, two decades later, it's been demolished to make way for the Heaven Township Stock Exchange.'

'Well, at least you're in a nice place now.'

'You think it's nice having to squeeze myself into this dark corner, cheek by jowl with all the other G.o.ds, and rely on the offerings of strangers? I was only brought here on condition that I consent to be an amba.s.sador for the wretched family planning policies. Have you read the slogan they've hung above my head, threatening women with forced sterilisations and abortions? What a wicked disgrace! For thousands of years I was the G.o.ddess of Fertility and Childbirth, but this depraved dynasty has turned me into the G.o.ddess of Fewer Births. Before long I'll be the G.o.ddess of Abortions! I tell you, death is much worse than life.'

'Cheer up, Sacred Mother. You've been fortunate enough to experience the dual realms of life and death. Your blessings have protected countless expectant mothers and granted their babies safe births.' Sensing Heaven begin to writhe and kick again, Meili straightens her back to give it more room to move.

'Yes, I've tried to comfort myself with that thought. Although I've never been loved by a man, I've watched baby girls being born into the world, grow into women and then prostrate themselves before me, asking me to grant their own babies a safe birth. Seeing the joy that each new life brings to a family consoles my sad heart, but can't fill the void of having no children of my own.'

'Being a mother in this country isn't easy, Sacred G.o.ddess. If you returned to the world and fell pregnant, you'd soon start thinking you were better off dead.'

'Mortals may feel no shame slaughtering innocent life, but if they force us G.o.ds to endorse their barbaric acts, what will become of the world? Praise be to Amitabha, Buddha of Infinite Light. I have said enough. It's time for you to go.'

Just as Meili is about to get up and leave, she pauses and says to the statue, 'Just one more thing, Sacred Mother. Six months after we fled our village, my second baby, Happiness, was murdered by family planning officers. But the baby's spirit has followed me ever since, and has reincarnated a second and now a third time. It's a peculiar spirit that seems to have no gender or fixed ident.i.ty. Sometimes it seems to be lodged inside the fetus in my belly, sometimes it seems to be looking down at me from above. Sometimes I feel it's looking back at me from a future realm, as though my present is its past. And on some occasions, I've felt that it exists in a completely separate realm that somehow overlaps with ours. But when I try to put these feelings into words, my mind spins and time seems to go into reverse. This third reincarnation has been the strangest. I should confess to you now: the baby has been inside me for five years. I've read of a woman whose pregnancy lasted sixty years, but when she finally gave birth, the baby was dead and as hard as stone. I can't bear to think that I'll never hold this child in my arms. Please help me, Sacred Mother.'