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Shan?” Rendi said, putting his buckets down. “What are you doing here?”
    Mr. Shan did not seem to hear him and continued to look into the well. Rendi saw the toad, also at the well’s edge, its bulging eyes gazing into the hole. Rendi kneeled by them and tried to see what they were looking at. All he saw was darkness and the slight shimmer of light on the deep water.
    “Is something wrong with the Half-Moon Well?” Rendi asked.
    “Half moon, it was not a half moon,” Mr. Shan mumbled, as if he hadn’t heard. “It was a full moon. I need a full moon to see.”
    And still without looking at Rendi, Mr. Shan put his hands on the wall that split the well in half and pushed down with a surprising force.
Crack! Crack!
The remains of the dividing wall crumbled and fell. Dry dust misted up into the air like steam, and the splashing noises of rocks falling filled the air. When all was quiet, the well was a round circle.
    Rendi’s mouth was also a round circle. He had struck that same wall with all his might, cracking his stick and breaking his buckets. All his efforts had not even loosened a single stone, yet Mr. Shan had knocked it down with a single push of his wrinkled, aged hands.
    But Mr. Shan did not seem to be aware that he had done anything extraordinary. He peered again into the well. The reflections on the dark water sparkled up beams of light. The toad croaked a groan.
    “Did you drop something down there?” Rendi asked after taking a deep breath and hiding his surprise.
    “No, it’s not in this water,” Mr. Shan said, his eyes clouding over. “It’s in a different water.”
    He’s confused again
, Rendi thought, and before he could be annoyed, he remembered Madame Chang’s patient smile. “Mr. Shan,” Rendi said, more gently than he ever had before, “I don’t think there’s anything in there.”
    Mr. Shan put the toad in his pocket and pushed himself up with his walking stick. “Yes, now there’s nothing,” he said, nodding in his absentminded way. “Don’t jump in.”
    “Don’t worry,” Rendi said, amused. “I won’t.”
    Mr. Shan’s eyes seemed to clear, and he peered at Rendi,the power of his gaze hitting Rendi like a falling stone. Rendi’s smile faded, and a strange, discomforting feeling came over him, as if he had walked into a gray, clammy mist.
    “Good,” Mr. Shan said, nodding. He gently patted Rendi’s shoulder. “Make sure you do as you say.” And then Mr. Shan turned away.
    Rendi stared at Mr. Shan slowly shuffling away, looking as ancient and as feeble as he always did. Rendi looked back at the well. A cold, icy wind seemed to blow through him. Suddenly, he had a vision of someone, something—a dark green blur—leaping into the gaping hole of the well, angry roars echoing upward. Rendi shivered.
    Then he shook himself. The hot summer sun shone down, and its bright yellow light burned away any imaginings. He began to gather the water, which, now, with the partition gone, he was able to do faster than he ever had before.
    However, when Rendi returned to his room at the inn, he still felt the weight of Mr. Shan’s words.
Make sure you do as you say.
Rendi had said that he would tell a story for Madame Chang. They had an agreement. If he left now,he would be a liar and a cheater.
Like my father
, Rendi thought, and the sinking sun cast a dark shadow on his face.
    Finally, he opened his drawers and took out his belongings, carefully folding them into his plain cloth bag. His last item was a smooth, blue-and-white rice bowl. It was thin and delicate, with faint traces of gold paint and a fineness that stood out in the poorness of his surroundings. Cupping it in his hands, Rendi gazed silently for a long moment.
    “Why not?” he said.



CHAPTER
17
    Rendi set down the chopsticks and the rice bowl, the thick, dark pottery of the bowl making a dull thud. While he waited for everyone else to finish dinner, he tried to look unconcerned and relaxed, even though he felt