The China Bride Read Free Page B

than Cantonese, and there might be other differences.
    Since Jin's expression gave nothing else away, Kyle turned his attention from his guide to his surroundings. Beyond the wharf area, a floating village of boats was moored together like clusters of houses, leaving just enough water between the rows for a sampan to pass. Each houseboat had a little cookstove at the stern, and often squawking fowl were slung over the sides in wicker cages, awaiting their future as dinner. Whole families lived in a space that made an English laborer's cottage look large.
    Kyle was about to turn away when a small child tumbled over the edge of the nearest houseboat. He caught his breath, wondering if the fall had been noticed, then realized that a wooden buoy was tied to the child's back in anticipation of such accidents.
    Hearing the splash, an older sister materialized and fished the child out, scolding ferociously. "That little girl was fortunate to have that floating device," Kyle remarked.
    He didn't expect a response, but Jin Kang said, "Boy, not girl." It was the first thing the youth had volunteered since they'd been introduced.
    "How can you be sure it's a boy?"
    "No floaters for girls," Jin said flatly. "Not worth it." Thinking he'd misunderstood, Kyle said, "Daughters aren't worth saving?"
    "Raising a daughter only to marry her off is like fattening a hog for someone else's banquet." Jin sounded as if he was quoting an old proverb. Even by the callous standards of Asia, that was harsh. God help Chinese women, Kyle thought.
    Turning away from the boat people, Kyle walked to the square, the open area between the waterfront and the hongs. The space resembled an English fair, teeming with beggars and fortune-tellers, food sellers and loiterers. Kyle attracted glances, but they were brief. This was the one place in China where a European was not an unusual sight.
    A line of blind beggars lashed together on a rope shuffled into the square, wailing mournfully and banging sticks and pans together. The clamor was enough to raise the dead. His expression exasperated but unsurprised, a European emerged from one of the hongs and gave a pouch to the lead beggar.
    The leader bowed, then turned and led his fellows back toward the city. Kyle wondered how large a gift was required to get rid of the rackety crew.
    "These fellows could teach the London beggars a thing or two." Jin said, "Beggars belong to Heavenly Flower Society. Very old guild."
    "Ah, a guild. Of course." A few weeks in Canton would seriously damage Kyle's capacity for surprise.
    Ahead, a large crowd had gathered around a juggler, who was swinging a rock on a rope to clear people away enough for him to perform. There wasn't much space to spare in the square. Kyle cut around the crowd, moving to the river's edge. His gaze was on a brightly flagged mandarin gunboat when he heard a high-pitched shout: "Sir!"
    An instant later he was wrenched sideways as a net full of tea chests fell from a crane and smashed down where he'd been standing. He and Jin ended up in a heap on the ground as dust and wood fragments sprayed them.
    Kyle pushed himself up with one arm, and for an instant his gaze met Jin's. The young man's eyes were medium brown, not black, and showed sharp intelligence.
    But the color wasn't what riveted Kyle. On a handful of occasions he'd met someone and felt an instant, powerful sense of connection. Most recently there had been a ragged holy man in India, who with one glance had seemed to see into Kyle's soul. The same had happened with Constancia at their first meeting. That bond had lasted until she died, and beyond. Now, strangely, something in this young Chinese man resonated intensely.
    Jin Kang dropped his head as he started to scramble to his feet. As soon as he placed weight on his right ankle, it turned under him and he gasped with pain.
    A crowd had gathered, the stevedores babbling in pidgin what sounded like apologies for the broken rope that had caused the