Because of Zhou Huaian's situation, the family usually avoided this kind of radio broadcast. If they did listen, it was only after Lin Xiaoxiao had left for school.

But today, with guests over, the nanny had turned on the radio to distract the babies—and later, busy with other things, she'd forgotten to turn it off.

The sensitive topic quickly caught the attention of both Zhou Zhennan and Zhou Xiaocheng.

They glanced almost simultaneously toward Lin Xiaoxiao.

Zhou Zhennan tried to reassure her, "Xiaoxiao, don't overthink it. These things happen from time to time along the border, but it won't lead to a full-scale war."

Lin Xiaoxiao swallowed hard and forced a smile. If she remembered correctly, the real large-scale conflict would come this winter and continue into the spring of 1979.

Her mind grew restless again. If that were the case, would Zhou Huaian be unable to return until it was all over?

And from what she'd read and seen in films, those conflicts were brutally difficult.

Zhou Zhennan offered his analysis: "It shouldn't be a major issue. Even if clashes break out, we're not afraid."

Zhou Xiaocheng added his reassurance, "Sis, don't worry. My brother is smart and experienced."

Lin Xiaoxiao sighed softly. "Being smart and experienced doesn't stop a stray bullet."

The next day was Sunday. Lin Xiaoxiao talked Zhou Xiaoling into going to a temple with her to pray.

It was a type of "feudal superstition" that had been banned for a decade—only in the last two years had temples begun to see worshippers return. Zhou Xiaoling didn't really believe in it, but she was still eager to help. "Should we go to Tanzhe Temple or Hongluo Temple? I've heard Tanzhe is very powerful—'first came Tanzhe Temple, then came Beijing.' But Hongluo is supposed to be good too."

Lin Xiaoxiao hesitated. Both temples were far out in the suburbs. Biking there would be exhausting, and there were no direct buses—they'd have to transfer multiple times. The trip could easily take all day.

"What about somewhere in the city? Like Lingguang Temple?"

Zhou Xiaoling thought for a moment. "That's not really in the city—it's near Fragrant Hills. We could bike there, but there aren't any real monks anymore. Not sure how 'powerful' it is now."

Lin Xiaoxiao didn't mind. "When it comes to praying, sincerity is what matters. Let's go."

Li Yunlan was supportive when she heard they were going to Lingguang Temple. "Go ahead. The flowers there should be blooming around now—it's beautiful. I'll have the nanny pack you some food."

Zhou Xiaoling had no objections. A day out was a day out. She dug out two army-green canteens, filled them with water, and handed one to Lin Xiaoxiao. "For when we get thirsty climbing."

The nanny boiled them a few eggs and made two green onion pancakes, slicing them neatly into a lunchbox.

Lin Xiaoxiao suddenly felt like they were going on a picnic. "It's too bad the babies are too small. Otherwise, we could've made it a family outing."

Li Yunlan waved her off. "You two go ahead. I used to work near Fragrant Hills—I've seen the sights. You go and have a good time with Xiaoling."

Zhou Liyun, holding Qianqian, watched them ride off. "I really envy the relationship you and Xiaoxiao have," she said to Li Yunlan.

Li Yunlan smiled. "Xiaoxiao is a good girl. She never complains, even with Huaian away. She always tries to keep our spirits up and never shows her sadness in front of us. I suppose I have my own selfish reasons for treating her well—so she'll always feel at home here, whether Huaian returns or not."

Zhou Liyun nodded slowly. Lin Xiaoxiao was beautiful and now a college student—she was bound to attract admirers.

She pushed the thought aside. "But Xiaoxiao doesn't seem like that kind of person."

"Exactly," Li Yunlan said. "That's why we should treat her even better. She has no other family here in Beijing."

Lin Xiaoxiao and Zhou Xiaoling cycled toward the Western Hills. Along the way, Zhou Xiaoling told lively stories—the kind you'd never find in books.

Before they knew it, they'd reached the foot of Fragrant Hills.

"We can't take the bikes up," Zhou Xiaoling said. "Let's find a shed to park them."

Lin Xiaoxiao looked around curiously. The area was filled with low, single-story homes. A few small shops stood here and there, their walls peeling with age.

Loudspeakers broadcast messages about the day's farm work and notices for the villagers.

It struck Lin Xiaoxiao that this was still the countryside—unchanged by land reform, still living collectively.

Zhou Xiaoling found a shop that charged twenty cents per bike for the day. "Highway robbery," she grumbled, but paid forty cents anyway.

Then they began their climb.

At this time, Fragrant Hills didn't require an entrance ticket. There was no grand gate, and the paths were made of gravel, not asphalt.

The scenery felt more natural—unmanicured and wild.

Zhou Xiaoling pointed. "Over there is Eyeglasses Lake. In winter, we sometimes come ice skating. It's not really our turf, though—local guys sometimes try to start fights. We've never lost."

Lin Xiaoxiao took in the views. Here and there, a few couples—clearly on dates—walked awkwardly, keeping a polite distance.

It was farming season, so the hills were quiet. Very few tourists were around.

They visited Lingguang Temple. Lin Xiaoxiao had brought incense from home and prayed sincerely to the Bodhisattva.

Zhou Xiaoling, in turn, bowed down and voiced her own wish: "I pray that my eldest brother comes home soon, safe and sound, so our family can be together again. I also pray that my sister-in-law will always be happy."

As they left the temple, Lin Xiaoxiao asked, "Didn't you pray for Lin Zihao? For his safety?"

Zhou Xiaoling winced. "Ouch, sis. That's a low blow. Lin Zihao is my cousin now—his father is my father's own brother."

"That doesn't mean you can't pray for him."

Zhou Xiaoling sighed dramatically. "Then I'd rather pray that I can forget all about him."

Bantering lightly, they started back down the mountain. At the bottom, a crowd had gathered where there had been almost no one before—noisy and restless, though it was unclear what was happening.