I don’t know the people you mean, I tell her. As far as we know, we are the only ones from our village to have ever come here.
Xiu Mei’s eyebrows rise at that. Where is your village?
On top of the mountain. The largest mountain, I amend.
Her face tells me our sign for mountain isn’t the same, and I draw it for her. It is a pattern we continue throughout our conversation. She is very quick to pick up on the differences, however, and soon needs little help.
I didn’t know there were people up there, she says. They’re all like you? All deaf?
Yes, I say, not bothering to enlighten her about my state.
The curtain rustles, and the grizzled man from the door appears. He says something to Xiu Mei, his voice deep and harsh. I find him intimidating, but Xiu Mei seems unfazed. She answers back cheerily, and after a brief exchange, the man returns to his post.
Who was that? asks Li Wei.
My father, she says. He wanted to know who you were. He is nervous about me talking to you, but he doesn’t agree with the . . .
Again, she writes out the word when we don’t understand it: decree. Seeing our confused expressions, she explains, There is a decree against your people—or, well, people like you. Those who can’t hear. A number of them live here in the township, but we are discouraged from communicating with them or doing business with them.
Do you know where they came from? I ask eagerly. If there are others like us, those who have made a home in this strange place, I’m suddenly hopeful they might be able to help us.
No, she says. The ones I’ve talked to have been reluctant to describe their past. Mostly I speak to them in order to learn the hand signs. I have an interest in languages. It was my specialty back when I was trying to get into one of the schools in the capital.
If you aren’t supposed to speak to us, why did you pull us aside back in the market? Li Wei asks suspiciously.
It was obvious you two were lost, she says. Outsiders. I watched you using the signs and was intrigued that yours were a little different from the ones I know. When I overheard some soldiers talking about finding two people who matched your description, I knew you needed help. It’s so strange that there are more of you—more without hearing. I wonder if all your ancestors started out with the same sign language and then it changed over time? That would explain why some signs are different. She strikes me as someone whose academic curiosity consumes her so much that it frequently takes her off-topic.
You still didn’t explain why you helped, Li Wei points out, steering her back.
She laughs. I suppose not. Sorry. This is all just so fascinating. I helped because . . . well, part of it’s just curiosity. But also, my father and I aren’t supporters of the king’s regime. Things weren’t so bad with the old king, but when Jianjun came to power, much changed.
Jianjun? I ask. Is that the current king? We’ve always known a king ruled in Beiguo, but our village long lost track of the successors.
Xiu Mei nods. Yes. He treats the army badly, which is why my father resigned—making a lot of enemies when he did. And then Jianjun stopped letting women into the academies, so we left the capital and ended up here in this poor excuse for a city.
Li Wei’s eyes widen. This place is huge!
This makes her laugh again. You really have come from the top of a mountain. This is nothing. There are bigger, grander cities out there, ones where you can go far if you have the right skills and connections. But for a dishonored veteran and his scholar daughter? The options are limited. The man who owns this place needs a bodyguard and someone who can balance the books. He’s not a friendly man, but at least he doesn’t care that I’m a girl.
It must be interesting work, I observe politely.