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Aditya got up very early the next morning.

He had been woken by the noise. Dipti had gotten up early to cook.

Aditya splashed well water over his face in the courtyard. The chill seeped through his skin into his head, leaving him mostly awake.

The scent of ginger tea drifted from the kitchen. Dipti had already brewed the morning tea.

Aditya woke his uncle Madan, who was lingering in bed, and the three of them ate breakfast around the table.

After breakfast, Aditya drove the jeep with the two of them aboard. He would take Madan to Kanpur station first, then go to the Diya Textile Factory with Dipti.

There were more sacred cows than cars on Kanpur's streets that morning. A white cow stood brazenly in the middle of the road, while several rickshaws obediently went around it.

Refusing to give up, Aditya honked several times. The cow did not even blink.

Fortunately, the roadside vendors had opened for business. Drawn by the vegetables on a stall, the sacred cow went over and began eating.

Aditya dropped Madan off at the station, then hurried straight to the factory without stopping.

Outside the Diya Textile Factory, workers who had come for interviews had already formed a long line.

Raju stood at the entrance, shouting through a tin megaphone:

"Form two lines! No one without experience, no one over thirty-five, and no one who can't work nights. Helpers on the left, weavers on the right! Anyone who keeps pushing won't be hired!"

The entrance was a noisy jumble. Aditya watched for a while, then turned to Dipti and said:

"I'm heading out to take care of something in town. Go back into the factory first."

Dipti was following behind him. At that, she looked up and asked, "What are you going into town for?"

"I'm going to the post office to send something."

"Oh. Will you be back at noon, then?" Dipti asked.

"Depends. I should be able to make it back."

Aditya reached the entrance, then turned back to add, "Have Paro and Usha keep a closer eye on recruitment too. Don't let any rotten fish and spoiled shrimp get hired."

"I know." Dipti nodded.

Aditya drove to Kanpur's main post and telecommunications office. Even at this hour, the post office still had not opened.

More than a dozen people were already squatting outside, some holding documents, others carrying oilpaper packages. A man in a gray shirt was arguing with the guard, saying he had already lined up yesterday and had to be served first today. The guard was so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open, and only repeated, "Wait until we open."

Aditya did not push his way forward. He found some shade under a tree and sat down to wait.

The sun slowly rose, and the ground began to grow hot. After a wait of about twenty minutes, the iron gate rattled open, and the crowd surged inside.

Aditya followed them in and found the international services counter. No one was waiting in front of it. He walked over, only to find no one behind it either.

Aditya was so angry he laughed. He went straight to the person in charge. After glancing at the sacred thread across Aditya's chest, the man pressed his palms together and apologized repeatedly.

The man in charge pulled over a middle-aged man and said, "Serve this gentleman first."

Aditya handed over Wang Changgui's business card and said, "I want to send a fax to Hong Kong."

The middle-aged man took the card and glanced at it, then looked at Aditya and asked respectfully, "Sir, what would you like to send?"

Aditya pushed over a sheet of paper he had prepared. Written on it in English was:

"Aditya Mishra. We met in Mumbai. Have business to discuss in detail. Please reply."

After reading it, the clerk nodded and said, "I'll adjust the format for you. Fill out the form first, and write the reply number clearly."

Aditya filled out the form and paid. The clerk fed the sheet into the fax machine and dialed.

The fax machine let out several piercing noises, then began transmitting slowly. About half a minute later, it stopped.

"It didn't connect." The clerk dialed again. This time it connected. The page was slowly swallowed up, and after buzzing for a while, the machine spat out a confirmation slip.

"It's sent. Come back this afternoon to check for a reply. At this hour, they haven't started work in Hong Kong yet. You'll have to wait."

Aditya nodded. He took the confirmation slip, folded it, and put it in his shirt pocket.

Aditya drove straight back to the Diya Factory and called Raju over to ask about recruitment.

Raju said more than thirty workers had registered that morning, all experienced. He had already had Abid take them to the workshop for a trial.

Aditya also made a round of the warehouse. Paro and Usha were squatting on the floor, labeling bolts of cloth. Thirty thousand units of finished cloth were to be shipped to Allahabad that day.

Both women's faces were flushed from the heat. Seeing him approach, they stood up together to greet him.

Aditya waved a hand and said, "Carry on. I'm just looking around."

He went to the post office again that afternoon. The clerk behind the counter flipped through a ledger and said, "Sorry, sir. There's no reply from Hong Kong."

Aditya chose not to wait at the post office. He had already made up his mind. Tomorrow he would go straight to Mumbai and contact Wang Changgui once he arrived, while also taking care of the bank loan.

When he returned to the office that evening, Dipti was checking the accounts.

Seeing Aditya walk in, she stood and said, "Uncle Madan just called. He said he's met with Boss Suen in Allahabad and signed the supply contract. He'll be back tomorrow."

"Good. Give Allahabad priority for these five days' finished cloth. Nothing can go wrong with this big, fat order. Lucknow can take its time."

Aditya poured a glass of water, but before he could bring it to his lips, the telephone on the desk rang.

He picked it up. There was static on the line, and a woman was speaking.

"Is Mr. Aditya Mishra there?"

The voice sounded a little familiar, but the static made it hard to hear clearly.

"This is Aditya. Who's this?"

"Aditya, it's me." The caller paused. "Mary Cohen."

Aditya put down his glass and asked in confusion, "Mary? How did you come to call me here?"

"My father isn't doing very well today. He said he wants to see you." Mary's voice was low.

Without the slightest hesitation, Aditya said, "Then I'll come back to Varanasi right now. How is he?"

"He's stable for now. The doctor just left."

"All right. Wait for me. I'll drive back right away."

After hanging up, Aditya explained to Dipti, "Solomon is nearing the end. I have to go back to Varanasi."

Dipti froze for a moment, the pen in her hand coming to a stop. "Then hurry and go."

"I might not be back tomorrow. Tell Uncle Madan to return to the factory early. Keep recruitment going according to plan. If you're unsure about anything, put it on hold."

"I know. Go, don't worry. I'll keep Diya safe," Dipti said.

Aditya strode out and jumped into the green jeep. The engine roared to life. He shifted into gear and stepped on the gas, and the jeep shot out through the factory gates, raising a trail of dust.

This was not Aditya's first time taking the road from Kanpur to Varanasi.

Yet traveling this road again today, he found it felt especially long. Solomon's face kept surfacing in his mind.

The old Jewish man probably really could not hold on any longer. Aditya had no idea why he had specifically asked to see him.

Aditya pressed the accelerator to the floor. The jeep's engine howled, and its green shape flashed past.