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of doing. She wanted to bring good luck and fortune to the family, and not be the bad luck daughter Grandmama had always declared her to be. Her four sisters sat behind the wall in the other room of their hut, probably huddled together on the shelf bed that Mama and Papa slept on while the five of them slept on the floor.
    At least the dress Mei Ling wore was pretty, made from sturdy flax and dyed a deep purple. It wasn’t new, of course—she had four older sisters. But it was clean, and Mama had spent many nights fixing it so it fit well.
    At the end of the meal, long after even the crumbs had been cleared away and the good tea had been served on borrowed china, the adults finally got down to business.
    The trader promised Mei Ling’s parents that she would have fine robes and plenty of food for the rest of her life, if they sold her to him. He promised to keep her away from the new war, the one brewing with Korea.
    Mei Ling knew he lied. She’d work harder than all of them did now, probably to her death, like Xi Ban in the story of the ungrateful daughter. She’d clean floors in great houses only if she was lucky.
    While Mei Ling wanted to live, she also knew that the gods had long ago set the path she was to walk along. Prayer and sacrifice might alter the course a little, but her fate, in many ways, was already written in stone.
    However, Mama and Papa didn’t know how sharp Mei Ling’s teeth grew at night.
    Grandmama had always declared that Mei Ling had evil in her soul.
    Mei Ling felt like she had a twin swimming inside her, closer now than ever before.
    In a little while, her other soul would rise.
    Then the trader would have to beware.
    # # #
    Mei Ling knelt still and unmoving in the line with the other girls. The floor of the dingy warehouse was hard, cold concrete, and dust lay thick on the wooden shelves behind them. Electric lights buzzed far above them—the first Mei Ling had seen. She’d also used a toilet for the first time, and had been unashamed when the trader had had to show her how it worked.
    The other girls also sat unmoving; however, many of them smelled like sweet poppies and their eyes were hazy.
    Mei Ling had never cried or tried to run away. She’d always tried to do what the trader had said, so she sat with her senses still clear. The trader hadn’t tried anything with her either; maybe he sensed her twin, or her bad luck.
    Fear ran through Mei Ling as she knelt, but she trembled only a little, and only when no one was looking.
    The trader had left her at the warehouse, and she’d seen more money change hands. That was all right, though. Mei Ling, and her twin, would always remember his scent. She would find him again later, when she was grown and her teeth were even sharper.
    Half a dozen men and women, dressed in fine silk robes of brown, red, and blue, walked up and down the line. Though they looked closely at the girls next to Mei Ling, none asked her to stand, or asked her questions.
    Was she marked with such bad luck that others could see it? What would the new trader do with her if none of these city people wanted her?
    A tall man wearing a light-gray, Western suit and black tie came in as the others drifted away, their choices made. He glanced around the room, then walked directly toward Mei Ling.
    His cheeks were pocked, and his beard grew in patchy across his jaw. But his hair was ink black, his eyes burned with intelligence, and his forehead was as broad as the sages in the stories Mama had told Mei Ling.
    â€œYou, girl. Stand,” he commanded.
    Mei Ling looked up, startled. His voice was more beautiful than any she’d heard. She wondered what he sounded like singing in the fields, then told herself not to be silly—this man had never worked in the fields, not a single day of his life.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” he asked, not unkindly as she rose steadily.
    â€œMei Ling, honorable sir,” she replied, finally