Once Upon a Time in China by Nashstheory

A Fan Fiction Story Based on Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Series

Rated M for Mature

***

Chapter: 1

Age of Edward Contest

Title: Once Upon A Time in China

Your pen name: Nashstheory

Type of Edward: Chinese Civil War (1920's Nationalist China)

Disclaimer – All characters belong to SMeyer's. Any resemblance of characters to real
people living or dead is purely a coincidence and not the intent of the author.

Author's Note - I've nominated Pears as the patron saint of editting people. This woman is
amazing in so many ways and none of my work would ever actually get out without her. Not
only does she have a complete life of her own, she writes amazing stories like Revolve, the
Fan, and Shadows, then she still has the time to overhaul my crazy work and make it
readable. She did this sucker in 1 day. No seriously 40 pages are now readable after less than
1 full day. I told you she was a saint. Or maybe a superhero. That's it. Suggestions are now
being taken for Pear's superhero theme song.

Sunday, March 6, 1926 7 a.m.

"Zaidu, Meiling," Edward tried to sound encouraging to the young woman giving birth in front of
him. "Yi zai tui."

He glanced at the elderly midwife who had demanded he be summoned and saw that she was
biting her lower lip nervously. The fourteen year old girl lying in front of them had been in labor
for two days before the midwife demanded that her assistant run for the 'Meiguo Xiansheng', the
American doctor, and he'd been in the tiny hut with them now for a third day. The girl was pale and
cold, covered in a clammy sweat as she moaned weakly. He glanced between her legs, ignoring the
bright red, bloody mess, and saw that she'd dilated no further since his last inspection. He pressed
his thumbs into the flesh beneath her pelvis and felt the child squirm again against both of them.
His rough measurements earlier hadn't been wrong - as if her heavily distended stomach hadn't told
him the same thing when he'd first entered her hut. The baby was large and the young girl giving
birth to it was not. He shook his head at the midwife and knew she understood the silent message
he was passing her. Meiling would not deliver this baby on her own.

Edward watched as the midwife stepped outside, leaving him along with the barely conscious,
moaning child in front of him. He watched in sick fascination as her stomach contracted again, the
child inside of her fighting to reach the outside world. He glanced backward as the crone of a
midwife returned with four large men and a litter. Carefully setting the litter on the floor the men
each made their way to a corner of the mat Meiling was lying on and looked at him expectantly.

"Right," Edward nodded as he realized what the midwife had already recognized. He would need
an equipped surgical area if either the girl or her child was to survive and even then he knew the
odds were slim. "Yi, er, san, tai!"

The men lifted the now unconscious girl smoothly and transferred her to the litter, lifting it and
looking at him expectantly. Grabbing the battered black bag his father had given him - new -
before he left for China, Edward motioned for them to follow him toward the tiny clinic he worked
from. Hurrying them as much as he could, Edward directed the men with curt Chinese and hand
motions to lay the girl on the examination table as one of the French nuns who worked as his
nurses came forward.

"Monsieur Doctor," the young woman ducked her head and then looked at him for directions.

"We'll need to do surgery Sister Terese," Edward said brusquely and stepped backward as two
more nuns rushed forward to begin draping the girl. Sister Terese hooked a mask around his face
before bringing him the basin of diluted alcohol that they used for disinfectant. "Sister Marguerite,
I'll need you to begin preparing the ether," Edward continued as he quickly waved his hands so that
they air dried.

"We are prepared Monsieur Doctor," the older nun, Sister Anne, announced and he glanced away
from his patient to find all three nuns masked and at their respective stations. When he nodded
sharply at Sister Marguerite she gently placed the ether mask over Meiling's face and began to
count the droplets necessary to anesthetize the girl.

After one shuddering breath he watched the girl's limp form slump into unconsciousness and
nodded again at the nun. She stepped away from the mask, which she left in place in case they
needed to administer more ether, and reached for Edward's stethoscope to monitor the girl's
heartbeat. When she nodded at him again, to let him know that Meiling's heartbeat was steady, he
reached for the cloth to disinfect her distended stomach. Once done, he dropped the rag back into
the bowl of disinfectant and reached for the scalpel to begin the incision that may save at least one
of the two lives in his care.

Sunday, March 6, 1926 11 a.m.

He hated when they showed him gratitude. The gratitude only made him feel worse about his
failures. It was worse when families like this one tried to scrounge up something to pay him with,
Edward thought, as he looked down at the basket full of eggs, the freshly killed chicken carcass,
and the piglet trailing behind him on a homemade leash. He would deliver them to the nuns, he
decided. The nuns were kind enough to feed him dinner each night before he returned to the clinic

and whenever he was paid in foodstuffs he turned it over to the convent and the attached
orphanage.

He still hated when they showed him gratitude, even if the payment they gave him would help feed
the orphans that the nuns had graciously taken in. The payment reminded him that he had failed
today. He had given Meiling's mother-in-law her newest grandson and had tried to apologize for
failing to deliver Meiling as well. The woman had been saddened at the girl's loss but had still
taken joy in the birth of another male child to help around their tiny farm - especially with so many
young men gone to join the CCP or the other Nationalist militias.

"Monsieur Doctor," he heard a raspy voice announce as he made his way through the gate to his
clinic, and he glanced up to see Mother Superior Antoinette sitting in one of his porch chairs.

"Mother Superior," he slumped his shoulders and let his head fall back down.

"It has been a tough morning?" Mother Antoinette suggested. "The mother and her child did not
survive?"

"The child survived but the mother did not," Edward sighed.

"The life of one child for another," Mother Antoinette clucked her tongue. "The Lord works in
mysterious ways, I know, but it is difficult when those ways are also so cruel."

"The child is healthy," Edward said consolingly. "A very large son, they've named him Niu."

"Niu," Mother Antoinette chuckled ruefully, "it is fitting to name him 'Ox' if he is such a large
child. Hopefully he will be strong enough to survive during these turbulent times."

"Let's hope," Edward sighed and ran his fingers through his disheveled bronze locks.

"It is a hard day for you," Mother Antoinette sighed as she reached for the bottle of whiskey sitting
next to her chair. "We will have a drink to commemorate the life of a brave girl and how you
helped her."

"I didn't help her," Edward contradicted as he slumped onto the porch and allowed the nun to pour
both of them a glass of whiskey. "I failed her . . . I would have expected wine, Mother, not Irish
whiskey."

"My mother is from Dublin," Mother Antoinette informed him, "wine is a fine companion for our
food and for our prayers but nothing consoles like a good whiskey. And, for the record, Monsieur
Doctor, you did not fail the girl."

"She's dead isn't she?" Edward replied bitterly as he swallowed down the glass of whiskey in one
drink and then reached again for the bottle.

"Do you think she would have asked you to do anything different if you had given her the choice?"

Edward shook his head and gulped down his second glass. Mother Antoinette took another sip of
her own and then reached down to pat him on the head as if he were a small boy. He sighed and let
his shoulders relax slightly from the whiskey and the comfort of her consolation. "Her life and fate
belonged to God, not to you. You must not take the blame for her death on yourself. You did all
that you could to help her, yes?"

"Yes," Edward sighed. "I tried everything to save them both. We even attempted a blood
transfusion between her and Sister Anne because she was a universal donor."

"I will make sure to order that she rests then," Mother Antoinette nodded. "We will not allow her
bravery to result in illness."

"Make sure she has some meat as well," Edward answered as he poured himself a third glass and
reached it up to clink against her own, still almost full one. "She'll need the protein."

"Who is our newest foundling?" Mother Antoinette inquired as she nodded at the piglet that
Edward had left tied to the fence.

"Part of my payment," Edward snorted. "They sent me home with a dozen eggs, a chicken, and the
piglet. Given that they had to pull him out of the barn squealing and everyone looked relieved
when I took him, I think that Emmett may have been the troublemaker of his litter. They worked
much too hard to give me this specific hog."

"Emmett?"

"I always wanted a pet," Edward mumbled. "Somehow the name Emmett seemed fitting."

"You were not raised on a farm were you, Monsieur Doctor?"

"Nope," Edward shook his head as the whiskey continued to relax him. "I grew up in South
Chicago. Have you ever heard of it Mother?"

"I have," she nodded. "I have heard that Chicago is very dangerous. That is where Al Capone and
his ruthless gang live, is it not?"

"That's true," Edward nodded, "but where I grew up was very nice. I was lucky to have a very nice
childhood. Very blessed, I realize that now."

"It is hard to realize how blessed you are until you see how little that others have," Mother
Antoinette agreed. "But it is obvious you have never been to a farm. If you had then you would
know that you should never name your food. It will only make it harder to butcher it. Given that
you are a city boy, Monsieur, I guess that job will fall to either myself or Sister Catherine."

"My apologies," Edward shrugged.

"Mother Superior! Doctor Cullen!" Edward jerked his head up and felt his brain slosh slightly.
Mike Newton from the American Enclave waved enthusiastically toward them as he opened the
gate, uninvited, and then led in a grizzled older man in a cheap, severe suit and a beautiful young
woman in an attractive, but simple, cotton dress.

"Mr. Newton," Mother Antoinette nodded her head politely. "Who is your company?"

"This would be the Reverend Swan and his daughter Isabella," Mike inclined his head toward the
two strangers. "It seems you will have some competition here Mother."

"There is no such thing as competition when you are helping people to find comfort in the
Almighty," Mother Antoinette replied patiently and Edward wondered at the level of piety that
prevented her from having the urge to slap the idiot. Whatever that level was Edward was certain
that he would never reach it, regardless of the faith.

"There is only saving the Chinese from their heathen ways and preventing them from falling into
the false faith of Rome to be concerned about," the grizzled Reverend snapped and Edward felt his
ire rise to the surface. Mother Antoinette and her sisters had been kind enough to allow him to
build his clinic on the grounds of their convent, worked as his nurses when he needed them, cared
for foundlings, and worked tirelessly to help the villagers without any thought of kindness in return.
Unlike many groups, they had never pushed conversion upon the villagers of Angran dao.

"Have you been in China long Mr. Swan?" Edward snapped coldly.

"We arrived a week ago in Shanghai," the man glared back at him and Edward ignored him for a
moment to turn to Mother Antoinette.

"Mother, I shall be at the orphanage by five so that you may all retire to evening prayers. You'll of
course excuse me for not being available to do the same this morning?"

"Of course, Monsieur Doctor, and you will rest today. The past day has been tiring for you and it
will do none of us any good for our physician to become ill." She answered him in return before
reaching down to pat his head. "I shall take the chicken and her offspring to the kitchens and
Emmett to his new home."

Edward couldn't help but smile as she nodded politely to the three people still cluttering his tiny
yard and then stepped around them to retrieve the grunting piglet. "Come along Monsieur Emmett,
we shall see what scraps are available to give you. You really are quite a handsome hog aren't
you?"

Once she was gone, Edward sighed and noticed that the three people in his yard were staring at him
intently. "It was interesting to make your acquaintance Mr. Swan," he nodded in what he hoped
was a polite manner and hoped they would take the hint to leave so that he could bathe and then
collapse into his bed to sleep. "Miss Swan. Mr. Newton, you'll want to keep them on this side of
the river tonight."

"You weren't at the prayer service this morning," Mike broke in and Edward wanted to roll his eyes.
He never went to the insipid man's 'prayer services'. He never had and he had no intentions of
starting now to please others.

"I was somewhat busy," Edward motioned to his shirt, which held a few droplets of blood on it
still.

"A patient?" Mike inquired. "Hopefully it was nothing contagious. We'd hate to have a cholera
outbreak like the one in Meitanfu last winter."

"A delivery," Edward couldn't help but roll his eyes. If it were a cholera patient, did the imbecile
really think he would have been back so soon and then simply sitting on his porch instead of
making preparations to contain the sickness? Besides, Edward fumed, what would he know about
the cholera? Mike Newton and almost everyone else in the Enclave had locked themselves in and
hidden their heads in fear for the two weeks that the fevers had raged up and down the Yangtze.

"It couldn't wait until after services?" The woman, he could see now that she was a pretty brunette
with unfashionably long hair trailing down her back, asked.

"Strangely enough," Edward couldn't help the sarcasm in his voice, "no. The babe was quite
determined he was coming at his convenience and not at Mr. Newton's. Trust me, Miss Swan,
when you've found a nice young man and marry, you'll find that is often the way with children
being born. They're quite selfish about it."

"Well," he watched as her cheeks flooded with color at his snide comment about her marital status.
"And what of Mrs. Cullen?"

"I'm sure my mother is sleeping quite contentedly as it's the middle of the night still in Chicago,"
Edward retorted.

"I was referring to -"

"She's the only Mrs. Cullen," Edward retorted coldly, "and no others currently need apply."

"A godly man needs a good wife to help labor with his burdens," the Reverend intoned snidely and
Edward watched as toady Mike Newton nodded along as if the man had suddenly revealed the
secret meaning of life. Well, he certainly knew the game the Reverend was attempting to play as
well as the one in Mike Newton's mind. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought that both of
them would soon be disappointed. He had no intention of marrying the girl and he could see that
Mike Newton hadn't caught the Reverend's attention as a suitor for his shrew of a daughter.

"What this man needs," Edward retorted, "is to eat something, bathe and then sleep. I have had a
long and tiring day. Warn the rest of the Enclave to stay on this side of the river tonight Mr.
Newton. The villagers will be performing rituals tonight."

"Rituals?" He heard Miss Swan ask as Mike Newton led them from his yard and he moved toward

his clinic door. "Whatever for?"

"One of Doc Cullen's patients must not have made it," Mike explained. "The villagers will take
them tonight to be buried and then they'll perform rituals to scare away death."

"Scare away death?"

"The Chinese believe that once death is loose, he will continue to rampage unless the villagers
scare him away. He'll be even harder to scare now that he's taken a young woman or a child. They
say his taste only grows for more of the same."

"Silly superstitions," Edward heard the Reverend announce as Mike Newton led them back toward
the Enclave and he couldn't help but shake his head. The Reverend would learn and then he and his
silly shrew of a daughter would be gone.

Tuesday March 8, 1926

Edward looked up from his microscope as he heard someone knock loudly at his front door.
Sighing, he stood and made his way out of his laboratory and toward the front 'reception' area. He
wasn't expecting an appointment and because the day had been quiet, he'd allowed his helper today
- Sister Renee - return to the convent early. He doubted it was a patient now either, usually they
didn't bother to knock and wait politely for him to answer. The villagers knew he had an open door
policy and the residents of the Enclave were too self involved to consider it if they were ill. That
meant it was someone coming to annoy him.

Yanking the door open, he saw Miss Swan standing in front of him and holding a large wicker
basket. "Yes?"

"Aren't you going to ask me in?"

"Fine," Edward pinched the bridge of his nose. "What a surprise, Miss Swan. Would you like to
come in?"

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen, I would love to come in."

Edward mimicked a courtly bow as he waved her into his office and tried to resist his urge to
throttle the girl. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Swan?" He couldn't help but smile as he said
it because he was quite certain about exactly what he owed the pleasure and he intended to enjoy it.

"I thought we got off to a rocky start on Sunday," Miss Swan started, "and I wanted to apologize so
that we could start over. I even brought you some fresh bread."

"Thank you," Edward replied with a vicious smile. "I'll take it over to the convent after I do my
afternoon rounds."

"The convent?" She sounded piqued.

"The good sisters are kind enough to invite me to share their meals with all the other foundlings,"
Edward answered. "Afterwards I do any necessary medical checkups that the children need and
spend the evening helping out."

"That's very kind of them," he noticed that she managed to force out a smile as she said it. "If you'd
prefer to have dinner with us though, I'm certain I could arrange it."

"No, thank you," he kept his tone friendly as he attempted to usher her out the door. "My dinner
arrangements are quite suitable. Thank you for the bread."

"Well, Doctor Cullen," she started again and refused to budge. "I was hoping that we could be
friends."

"Look, Miss Swan, I'm sure somewhere in the speech you've got stored in your pretty little head
there will be the point where you tell me that your father is gruff but kind hearted and truly has
everyone's best interest at heart. Meanwhile, I'm not supposed to realize that this comes about
probably a day after you learned that I'm the only doctor until you reach the city of Wuhan, 20
miles from here. Whatever his health maladies, Miss Swan, simply send him to me and I'll treat
him. It's not essential that I share similar opinions with my patients about things other than their
health. No bribes of bread are necessary."

"I wasn't trying to bribe you!" She protested but the tale-tell blush flooding her cheeks gave her
away.

"Now on to the second part of what I'm sure is a very pretty speech. I am not normally inclined to
be unfriendly to those around me, Miss Swan, so you need not worry about having an acrimonious
acquaintance with me. I realize that you are new to China, and I'm quite sure that your opinions
about things will change as your time here broadens your horizons. That being said, while we may
have a friendly dialogue, I am not now, nor will I ever be, interested in attending a prayer service.
If you are looking for an escort may I suggest Mr. Newton, he seems quite taken with you."

"Why don't you live inside the Enclave?" She asked suddenly.

"Because I live here," he retorted. "It's easier to live at my clinic so that if I have a late night call I
can begin work immediately."

"Why is your clinic here then?"

"It was already here when I arrived," he answered. "Besides, it is the most equitable arrangement."

"Equitable?"

"I am approximately half way between the Enclave and the village of Angran dao. Both groups are
required to walk the same amount for treatment."

"Oh," she looked puzzled. "Mr. Newton made it sound as if there might be other reasons."

"Mr. Newton and some of the others inside of the Enclave attempted to have me move my clinic to
the house you now occupy. Of course they had demands before they would confer such an honor
upon me as becoming their own personal physician." Edward snorted in derision.

"Demands?"

"Chinese patients would be seen only at this clinic and never inside the Enclave, of course," he
shrugged. "They would be given priority in care and because we all apparently have the same goals,
I could no longer see as a patient anyone who was a part of the Nationalist movement."

"You help the Nationalists?" Miss Swan gasped. "But they're -"

"I'm a doctor," he shrugged. "And I don't see a particular logic flaw in their arguments. A China
run by the Chinese doesn't seem like too far fetched of a notion to me."

"How can you say that? The Nationalists hate foreigners!"

"No," Edward pointed out. "They hate the foreigners inside the enclaves who make a profit off
Chinese workers being forced into slave-like working conditions. They hate the laws that make
them second class citizens in their own country. And for your own safety considerations, they hate
the missionaries as well. Me, they seem to like me and the nuns well enough."

"I thought you said the Nationalists hated missionaries?"

"The nuns aren't missionaries," Edward countered. "They have no priest closer than Shanghai
since the last Monsignor in Wuhan died last fall. Even before that, these nuns were purely a
charitable order. They work as nurses, run the orphanage and also the school."

"And you?"

"I," Edward shrugged, "am a doctor. I care for any sick or injured person that needs my help. I don't
bother to look at their skin color or ask their political and religious affiliations first. In return, the
Nationalists have no quarrel with me and when they have surplus supplies they make their way
here to be distributed."

"While I agree that as a doctor you must see patients regardless of their political affiliations, I
cannot believe you are so, so -"

"So, so?"

"Permissive in your beliefs regarding the Nationalist."

"Like I said, Miss Swan -"

"Bella," she corrected.

"Like I said, Bella - I'm Edward, by the way - I don't think their ideas are all that exceptional. It
doesn't take a genius to see that any philosophy that has Mr. Newton superior to another human
being must be flawed."

"You don't care for Mr. Newton?"

"I don't," Edward nodded sharply as he reached around her and opened the door. "Now, Miss Swan,
thank you for the bread, the invitation to your prayer services that you didn't get the chance to
extend, and if you'll excuse me I am quite busy."

"Wait," she looked at him exasperatedly. "That isn't what I wished to speak with you about."

"I'll of course care for your poor, frail father regardless of his gruff manners."

"Thank you but -"

"Yes, Miss Swan?"

"What is there to do here?"

"To do?" He repeated.

"Yes," she nodded forcefully. "To do."

"I'm sure I wouldn't know what a well brought up young lady would do here," Edward replied.

"Well," she rolled her eyes, "if yesterday was any indication, I would be forced to go to tea with the
other three well brought up young ladies in the compound and one of their mothers. It was the most
dreadfully boring afternoon of my life."

Edward couldn't help but laugh at the petulant expression she was wearing. "Don't laugh!" She
snapped. "I was forced to spend four hours discussing the latest fashion of dresses that I saw in
Shanghai and fielding inquires about the latest fashions in hair styles!"

"What stimulating conversation," Edward snorted.

"It was horrible," she replied. "Then I was escorted home by Mr. Newton, who simply bored me to
tears within the two short blocks between Mrs. Stanley's parlor and my own!"

"So you've come here because?"

He noticed that she immediately blushed. "Mr. Newton said that you had quite an extensive library
and so did the nuns. I'm sure most of your books are of a medical nature but I was hoping that you
could ask the Mother if I might borrow something from them."

"Why don't you call upon the convent and ask her?"

"After Sunday," he noticed she had the good grace to blush again. "I didn't think she would receive
me."

"Right, well," he shrugged and then quickly stepped from the room to retrieve the book he'd just
received from his personal quarters. "Here, my father sent this in his last packet of letters. It was
released a few months ago in America. When you've finished it, if you like, I'll take you to the
Mother Superior so that you can ask permission to peruse their library if mine doesn't suit your
tastes."

"Thank you," she bobbed her head at him. "Is there anything you need help with here in your
practice?"

"Are you a trained nurse, Miss Swan?" He couldn't help the slight note of hope in his voice.

"No," she shook her head. "I trained to be a school teacher. When Mr. Newton wrote to my father
and asked him to consider mission work here, he made it sound as though there would be a need for
a teacher as well. That's why my father brought me along. Mr. Newton hinted at many things that
we've found aren't quite so."

"Really?" Edward didn't bother to conceal his amusement. "Such as?"

"He made it sound as if the local warlord not only knew of our arrival but was anxiously awaiting
it. He promised my father a fine church from which to preach the Word to the Chinese with a
school connected for the children. He told us that the warlord in Wuhan was a Christian and eager
for our presence."

"Really?" Edward shook his head at the audacity of the outright lies the other man had told the
Reverend and his daughter.

"We arrived in Wuhan to find that the warlord had no idea that we were coming, he most certainly
is not a Christian and has no intention of becoming one as he pointed out rather harshly when my
father tried to bring him to the Word."

"I can imagine," Edward murmured as he thought about how Li Dan Chu would have taken to a
foreign missionary attempting to convert him and his Nationalist friendly forces.

"Now," Bella continued. "We've been told that we're restricted in our activities to the Enclave only.
He continued to enlighten us to our situation by explaining that there would, under no condition, be
a church set up at Angran dao, the Sisters ran a successful school and would not need our
assistance, and that if we were caught doing mission work in his villages then dire consequences
would be the result. I simply cannot understand how Mr. Newton could have read the situation so
poorly."

"You obviously do not know Mr. Newton well," Edward replied.

"My father met him on the revival circuit. He said Mr. Newton seemed like a sincere young man
and when the offer came to work here, my father saw it as a sign."

"So," Edward broke in. "As interesting as this history lesson has been, how do you propose to help
me? You have no nursing skills."

"Well," she bit her bottom lip and looked up at him sheepishly. "I write a fair hand so I could keep
your records and inventory. I'm smart, good with children, and I'm very willing to learn. Please, Dr.
Cullen, I think I shall die of boredom if I'm forced to remain in the Enclave taking tea each day."

"I'll see what I can do," Edward nodded and then ushered her towards the door. "Perhaps the sisters
can find a task for you."

"But," she started.

"And what you tell your father about it will be your business alone," he added. "Enjoy the novel."

"Thank you," she sighed as she let him push her out the door. Once it was closed, he couldn't help
but laugh at the expense of the girl and her father. How could Mike Newton have read the signals
wrong, she wondered? Well, if she would have known Mike Newton then she'd have known it was
a simple thing - he rarely, if ever, left the Enclave and never interacted with anyone other than his
manager, a devout Nationalist sent to do petty damage as needed. What Mike Newton had been
looking for was the prestige of having secured a preacher for the Enclave and himself a more
beautiful bride than the ones currently on offer.

Wednesday June 23rd, 1926

"Doctor Cullen!" He gritted his teeth as he heard her call out to him. He should have known that he
would run into her today. Turning around he tried to smile politely.

"Yes, Miss Swan," he tried to remain professional in his dealings with her inside the convent.

"Today isn't your day for examinations is it?" She sounded accusatory.

"No," he grit his teeth. "I came today to give the children their inoculations. Its flood season so
you'll need to bring your children over to the infirmary so that I can inoculate them against
cholera."

"Oh," she smiled flirtatiously at him. "I'll bring them along after lunch. I was afraid that I had
forgotten you were coming and wasn't prepared for you. I'd hate to keep you waiting on my
account."

"Don't concern yourself with it," Edward said brusquely as he turned to leave her. Miss Isabella
Swan, he ground his teeth together. He'd been true to his word three months ago and spoken to the

Mother Superior about her boredom. Within a week she'd been installed as the newest teacher at
the convent - he still didn't know what she'd told her curmudgeon of a father about it - and had
plagued his life ever since. The sisters, he thought bitterly, the sisters adored her. Mother
Antoinette clucked after her as if she was a foundling herself and constantly admonished him to
treat the girl nicer.

Meanwhile, he couldn't help but hate her more and more; her flirtatious smiles, the thinly veiled
contempt in her banter, the way she seemed to chastise him in even the most innocent conversation.
Then he was forced to deal with Mike Newton each day as he both escorted her to and from
Edward's clinic to keep "dangerous elements" away from her. Dangerous elements, he snorted.
The most dangerous thing she might encounter was Mr. Van Hynek's goat, Jasper, or Emmett
between feedings - if she was carrying a basket of food with her.

To make matters worse, Mother Antoinette had brought up the ludicrous idea that he might wish to
court the girl! As if he'd desire to court anyone - especially a sharp–tongued, annoying shrew like
Miss Swan. No thank you, Edward decided. He'd be better off alone for the rest of his days than to
spend one day more than strictly necessary with the shrewish Miss Swan and her intolerant bastard
of a father. Edward pinched the bridge of his nose when he thought about the sheer idiocy of the
idea.

Even if she was pretty, and he had to admit she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, it didn't change
that she was a shrew. Nor did her intoxicating scent make up for her narrow minded political views.
He could only concede that her enticing blush made up for the company she kept and only then
because it wasn't as though better social options were available.

Edward tried to push the infuriatingly beautiful shrew from his mind as he stalked back to his
clinic to prepare for the inoculations he would give shortly. Fresh hypodermic needles, vials of the
vaccine, antiseptic, and a large bowl of hard candies for his patients were all set in place. He
glanced up as Sister Rosalie entered the clinic quietly, head down and her eyes red rimmed.

"Is everything well Sister?" He inquired politely.

"I am fine Monsieur Doctor," the youngest of the nuns - barely 18 - replied and sniffled.

"I think you are perhaps unwell?" Edward suggested gently and reached for the small bottle of pain
relievers he kept at the front of the clinic to deal with simple injuries. "Are you in any pain?"

"No, Monsieur Doctor," she sniffled and then broke into a sob. Instinctively, Edward reached
forward to embrace the young woman as she cried against his chest.

"Now, now," he consoled. "What is all this?"

A trembling hand reached into her habit and retrieved a folded piece of paper, handing it to him.
"My brother has died," she sniffled and Edward saw that was indeed the case as he briefly read the
letter she handed him. Her youngest brother had been killed in a swimming accident a few weeks
before.

"Shh," Edward soothed as he wrapped his arms back around her and tried to console the young
woman. "I'll retrieve you a sedative and we'll arrange for Mother Antoinette to let you rest for a
few days. In your condition, you shouldn't be working."

"Edward!" He heard a feminine voice gasp. Looking up, he saw Bella staring at him in horror.
Sister Rosalie pulled away from him and fled past Bella toward the convent. "What are you
doing?"

"What did it look like I was doing?" He snapped.

"Making advances toward that woman!"

"Please," Edward snorted. "She's a nun! Besides, why is it any of your concern?"

"It's not!" She shouted. "Nor is her apparent condition, but it seems to be yours!"

"Of course it is," Edward retorted. "She's my friend."

"Apparently a very close one," Bella snapped. "Seeing as she now has a condition to be concerned
about."

A condition? Edward almost wanted to laugh at her speculations. She actually thought he had done
something inappropriate with one of the Sisters? As if he would dare! As if Mother Antoinette ever
allowed her sisters the opportunity for him to dare!

"You, Bella Swan are a very stupid little girl," he taunted. "Sister Rosalie is not pregnant, she's in
mourning. That is her condition. She found out today that her youngest brother died in a swimming
accident. The condition I was referring to was grief, Miss Swan. Not everyone has the loose morals
of your friends inside the Enclave."

"Oh," he noticed that she had the grace to look ashamed of her accusation. "I am sorry. But what
did you expect someone to think when they come into your clinic and find you embracing a crying
young woman?"

"That she is in obvious need of comfort," Edward seethed. "Now what do you want?"

"I have the first group of children for the inoculations. Mother Antoinette wanted me to find out if
you were prepared to begin."

"I'm short a second helper," Edward answered. "Sister Rosalie isn't in any condition to work and
Sister Alice can't do both jobs at the same time."

"Is it very technical?"

"Why?"

"If one of the jobs isn't technical then I could assist you," she suggested calmly. "After all, you're in
need of an assistant and I owe you an apology for my actions."

"Fine," Edward fought back the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose at the idea of being forced to
spend the day with Miss Bella Swan. "I assume you're capable of wiping a child's arm with an
antiseptic cloth?"

"Obviously," she rolled her eyes at him.

"That is your job then," he answered. "The Sister in charge of the children will put them on the
examination table, you will wipe their arm with antiseptic as I'm filling the syringe, I will give
them the inoculation, and then Sister Alice will give them a piece of hard candy. Is that too
technical, Miss Swan?"

"No," she smiled at him and he could see that it was forced. "Wait for child to be put on table, wipe
arm with cloth, and step out of your way so that you can give them a shot. Do I have the way of it?"

"Let's hope," Edward retorted dryly.

She did have the way of it, he was forced to admit. In fact, before long she had taken over more of
the work, keeping the table stocked with syringes and vials of inoculate as well as wiping each
child's arm. With Sister Alice working as the 'comfort brigade', as his mother always called that
position in an inoculation stream, they moved through the children at a lightening pace. Within
two hours he was finished inoculating the last of the new nuns to China and they were finished. He
watched as Sister Alice handed Sister Aline a peppermint with a merry twinkle in her eye before
popping one into her own mouth. Edward couldn't help but laugh - the nuns lived modest lifestyles
and only ate sweets at holidays or when there were inoculations taking place.

Once the two nuns had scurried off, giggling, Edward began to clean up his examination room and
noticed that Miss Swan had already began to put away his remaining supplies. "You know," she
said conversationally, "you can't blame people for taking away the wrong idea about you when you
act like such a dandy."

"A dandy?" Edward snorted. "How so, Miss Swan?"

"I can see giving the children a sweet to stop their crying," she answered. "But the Sisters? Surely
they don't need a sweet after they've been given an inoculation."

Edward felt his temper flare. The infernal bitch was suggesting that he was once again behaving
inappropriately. How dare she pretend to know how he practiced medicine and pass judgment on
him! "You haven't been inoculated for cholera have you, Miss Swan?" He asked sharply and
grabbed her by the elbow, spinning her around to face him before lifting her onto the examination
table.

"No," she looked at him in incomprehension.

"Well then," Edward took one hand off of her waist and reached for the last syringe of inoculate.
"Don't presume to tell me how to practice medicine."

"I wasn't -"

"You were," he cut her off abruptly. "Now," he dabbed her arm with antiseptic. "There are three
major side effects to a cholera inoculation. The first is a burning sensation at the injection site," he
plunged the syringe into her upper arm and watched as her eyes widened at the searing heat
coming from the injection. "The second is that it causes a dip in blood sugar and the third is that it
can cause pain in the patient's lower jaw." He removed the syringe and stood glaring at her. "I've
found that a peppermint is useful for all three side effects. The sucking required for a hard candy
prevents jaw pain, the sugar in the candy keeps patients from fainting, and the peppermint acts as
an anti inflammatory for the injection site. Besides that, a little sweet after something painful never
did anyone any harm."

He deftly reached for the bowl of hard candies and palmed one. When the insufferable bitch
opened her mouth to argue he thumbed a peppermint into her mouth and then tapped the bottom of
her chin with his thumb, causing her mouth to shut involuntarily around the candy. "Now, don't tell
me how to do medicine. Good day, Miss Swan." He spun around then and prepared to walk out of
the examination room. He heard the piece of candy clatter across the floor and turned to look at
her.

"You are an insufferable ass!" She announced as she hopped down from the table.

He was an insufferable ass? She was accusing him of being insufferable? That wouldn't do at all.
"Well," he felt himself stutter like a school boy, "you are a nagging, self righteous harpy of a
woman!"

"Arrogant," she accused as she stalked toward him.

"Self involved," he threw back at her.

"Conceited!"

"Spoiled!"

"I hate you," she seethed. They were so close together now that he could feel her breath against the
collar of his shirt.

"I loathe you," he spat back in return.

"I detest you," she countered and grabbed his shirt collar.

"Well I abhor you," Edward growled and reached out to tangle his fingers in her thick mahogany
hair.

He wasn't sure who moved first but soon their lips were crushed against each other, tongues
tangling and teeth nipping at each other's mouth. "You're a cad," Bella panted as they stumbled
backwards to the examination table and his lab coat was pushed off his shoulders and dropped onto
the floor.

"You are an absolute shrew," he groaned as she pushed him back against the table and pressed
herself against him.

"I hate you," she moaned as he began to lap at the skin on the side of her neck.

"No you don't," he gasped as her fingers began to trail along the waistband of his trousers.

"No, I don't," she agreed as he pulled both of them onto the examination table so that she was
resting on top of him, wiggling into his straining erection as she worked the buttons of his clothes
desperately between her fingers. "I hate that I'm in love with you though."

"The feeling is entirely mutual," Edward moaned as he let his hands trail up her silky thighs and
noticed that she had forgone wearing stockings because of the insufferable heat. He stifled his
groan at the feel of her lithe body pressed against him and then realized that he'd just confessed to
loving Miss Swan, which he certainly did but wasn't ever intending to admit to himself - much less
to the insufferable shrew.

Before he could contemplate his gaffe further, she'd managed to maneuver his trousers loose and
somehow, he wasn't sure exactly who was responsible for it, her panties had come off. He reached
up to run his fingers over her face, tracing her lower lip with his thumb, and felt her slide against
him and then gasp.

"Are you," he groaned as he felt himself slip inside her.

"Oh my," she whimpered as she lifted herself slightly and slid further onto his length. A third
movement and he found himself pressed against her barrier and had to resist the urge to press
upward and make the beautiful harpy his.

"Bella," he managed to gasp as he grabbed her hips to hold her still. "Are you sure?"

"Sure about what?" A gruff voice asked and Edward felt Bella jerk backwards suddenly with a
startled cry and he felt her barrier break at the movement. Reaching hurriedly for his own trousers
he began to hastily tug them up and glanced up to find Charles Swan grasping his daughter's
forearm and shaking her roughly.

"There's no need for that," he tried to step between the Reverend and his daughter.

"Isn't there?" The other man raged and turned to face him fully. Edward reached out to move Bella
so that she was behind him, her body blocked with his own. "I come in to find you've debauched
my daughter and turned her into a common harlot!"

"There's no cause to talk to her that way," Edward tried to stay calm and hoped it would diffuse the
very difficult situation he and Bella had found themselves in. "The situation looks bad, but name
calling isn't going to make it any better."

"Don't presume to tell me what the situation is," the Reverend sneered. "I could see it very well for
myself."

"I'm not presuming to tell you that you walked in on anything except what all three of us know was
happening," Edward answered calmly and reached out to lace his fingers with a now sobbing
Bella's. "What I am saying is that we need to handle this like three adults and calling each other
names isn't helping the situation."

"Handle this?" He noticed the vein in Charles Swan's head standing out prominently and worried
that the other man might be having a stroke. "I'll tell you how we're handling this Doctor Cullen -
you've had her and now you'll keep her. She's your concern now because I want nothing more to do
with her. She's no daughter of mine!"

He heard Bella begin to sob harder as the Reverend turned to stomp out of his clinic, slamming the
door so hard behind him that he shattered one of the glass panels. "That's going to be a hassle to
replace," Edward muttered to himself and then pushed the inane thought from his mind as he
pulled Bella out from behind him and wrapped her in his arms. "It's going to be all right Bella," he
said soothingly before he kissed the crown of her head, threading his fingers through her hair. "He
didn't mean it."

"He did," she sobbed into his chest. "He did mean it. You don't know Father, he's very strict and
now," she sobbed even harder then, gasping for breath, "now I can't ever go home again. I'll have
no where to go, Edward."

Glancing down, he noticed that where the Reverend Swan's hand had been was already starting to
darken. Seeing the bruise that the other man had put on her only strengthened his resolve on the
decision he'd made before her father had ever walked into his clinic. His vague plan had involved
taking his time to woo her and gain her father's blessing; since that was no longer an option,
another plan formed in his mind. Isabella Marie Swan, for all her insufferable qualities, was his
and he had no intention of ever letting go of her. Now that thought was combined with another
overriding urge - there was no way he would let his Bella go home to a monster that would put his
hands on her in anger.

"Did you really think I would just let you leave afterward?" He asked quietly. "Did you not want it
to mean something more?"

"It is something more," she whispered into his chest. "I just didn't want to presume that it was
something more to you."

"Silly girl," Edward couldn't help but chuckle at the woman wrapped in his arms. "Silly,
insufferable, demon of a little girl. You are the only person who has ever infuriated me this much.

You're the only person I've ever worked twice as hard to prove myself to, to prove that I was
someone worthy of your highhanded regard."

"I do hold you in high regard," she murmured. "I hold you in the highest of regard. Why do you
think I lied to my father to come here each day? Thankfully the orphans help me with my Chinese
or he would have found out weeks ago that you weren't giving me lessons and helping me in secret
missionary work in the village."

"Secret missionary work?" Edward laughed out loud then. "Me? The doctor who refuses to live
inside the Enclave, keeps his clinic on the grounds of the heathen Roman church, and routinely
treats Nationalists and their sympathizers? He thought I was helping you do missionary work?"

"I knew it was ludicrous but it kept him appeased," she sulked.

"It is ludicrous," he agreed and felt her stiffen. "To think I would ever let you risk your life by
intentionally violating an edict made by a warlord and also angering the Nationalists. Even when
you're at your most annoying I wouldn't let you endanger yourself."

"So what do we do now? My father won't listen to anything we say and I can guarantee that he'll
make sure everyone knows at the next prayer meeting."

"He wouldn't ruin your reputation that way," Edward consoled.

"He would," she shook her head, "especially if he thought it would ruin yours. Just because he lets
me be in your company doesn't mean he hates you any less, Edward. Especially now, because I
know he'll think we've been lovers from the beginning."

"And if we marry?" Edward suggested.

"It won't stop him, Edward," she sighed. "And I won't let you burden yourself with me to save my
reputation. People will still come to you as a doctor so you have nothing to fear and I won't take
your charity."

"Charity?" Edward couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity that was her pride. "Did you think what
was taking place between us on that table," he motioned to his exam table, "was charity? You're
mine, Bella, and I'm yours if you'll have me. The clinic isn't much of a proper home but I'm sure we
can add on to it or even take a house in the Enclave if you prefer."

"I don't," she stopped and bit her lip.

"You don't?"

"I don't want to live in the Enclave," Bella nuzzled her head into his shoulder then and wrapped her
arms around his waist. "It's better for you to live here at the clinic in case you're needed. What kind
of wife would I be to keep you from your work?"

"Wife?" Edward tilted her chin up with his finger so that they were looking at each other. "You're
willing to be my wife?"

"Yes," Bella nodded and leaned up to kiss him softly. Edward fought the urge to deepen the kiss
until they had finished discussing the situation. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his -
their - private quarters and show her how much he cared for her but he knew they needed to figure
out where they were going from here.

"And you don't mind marrying a poor country doctor? Living in the bachelor's quarters of a
medical clinic? I warn you that I have no fortune here and I can't provide you with luxuries. I work
long hours at times and often I'm paid in goats and eggs."

"I've never been accustomed to luxuries," Bella replied and he pulled her tighter against his body.
"I like eggs and small quarters just mean that I'll have more time in your company. Besides, I no
longer face a walk each day to teach my children at the school, and I have the unexpected pleasure
of having lunch each afternoon with my husband. Besides, I don't think I could stomach the
whispering and stares inside the Enclave when people find out the circumstances of our marriage."

"I'll never let anyone stare and whisper about you Bella," Edward kissed her forehead to reassure
her. "And the 'circumstances' of our marriage - as you call it - are open to interpretation. All anyone
will know is that your father walked in on us consummating our marriage. Only the two of us will
know that it was before our elopement and not after."

"You don't think they'll question that we eloped?"

"Your father is known to hate me," Edward countered. "I dare say that many will consider it a very
romantic scandal. The Reverend's daughter and the black sheep of a doctor eloping so that they
could be together despite her father's disapproval."

"Edward," she sighed.

"I'll not let anyone point and stare Bella," he reiterated as he led her from the examination room
and toward their private quarters. "Even if you decide to never go back into the Enclave I won't
allow anyone to tarnish my wife's reputation."

"Edward," she sighed as they made their way down the hallway. "I love you."

"I know silly girl," he chuckled. "I love you as well."

Monday October 18, 1926

He heard her moving about in their private quarters and attempted to focus on what Mr. Van
Hynek was telling him. She needed her rest and he definitely didn't want to take a chance of her
being exposed to anything in her delicate condition. "I'll be just a moment Bella," he called out
quietly and Mr. Van Hynek smiled.

"Edward?" He heard her answer and saw the door handle begin to twist as she opened it.

"Back to bed Bella," he tried to make his voice sound stern and hoped she would listen to him for
once.

"All right darling," she called through the door and he noticed that the handle quit jiggling
immediately. "Come back to bed soon though, you need your rest before making rounds at the
village tomorrow."

"Of course, love," he called out again and noticed the grin on Mr. Van Hynek's face grow wider in
response. Rolling his eyes at the old man, he tried to keep both of them focused on the man's reason
for waking him in the middle of the night and not on his pregnant bride.

If what the old man was describing to him was accurate then he needed to remain focused on the
sick and not being worried about Bella. Taking a deep breath he pinched the bridge of his nose and
made a snap decision about what to do. "All right, Mr. Van Hynek, here is what we need to do. I'll
go across the yard to the convent and wake the sisters. I'll send Sister Anne to the village to make
sure that they're not suffering from the same illness there. After that, I'll have them pass a message
along to Doctor Ching with the Nationalists, and he'll take over caring for everyone outside of the
Enclave. Once I have Bella settled inside the convent with the Sisters, then Sister Marguerite and I
will come into the enclave."

"What would you have me do while you're settling things here then?" Mr. Van Hynek nodded.

"Wake everyone. I need to know everyone who is ill so that I can examine them. Then the women
will need to start boiling every piece of cloth inside the Enclave. Everything cloth must be boiled,
no exceptions. Sister Marguerite and I will bring several casks of antiseptic and every hard surface
must then be washed in a mixture of antiseptic and boiling water. Then," he took a deep breathe,
"no one can leave. The gates have to be locked and everyone kept inside."

"They won't like that much," the other man warned him.

"There's no choice in the matter. If the symptoms you've told me about are what I expect then the
Enclave has to be quarantined. We can't risk the sickness spreading along the river."

"They're not going to care to heavily for whether or not the Chinese get sick," the other man
suggested.

"Well," Edward sighed. "You're the vice consul for the area and that means you're the law.
Everyone must be kept inside. If we don't want the wrath of the Nationalist to come down upon us
then we must do everything we can to keep the illness from reaching their stronghold at Wuhan."

"Didn't say they were going to get anywhere with their carrying on," Mr. Van Hynek answered.
"You're placing the Enclave under quarantine then under quarantine they'll go, Doctor Cullen.
We'll see you and the Sister soon?"

"Within the hour," Edward assured him. He grabbed an antiseptic cloth and wiped down the
counter and the door handle that Mr. Van Hynek had touched. Stripping off his clothes, he grabbed
another clean rag and sponged himself off quickly with antiseptic. Making his way, naked, into
their private quarters, he couldn't help but laugh as Bella wrinkled her nose. "You stink," she
giggled.

"It's better than the alternative, my darling," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"You need to get up now."

"Has Soushin gone into labor?" He couldn't help but chuckle at the eager sound in her voice as she
thought about their new amah, a heavily pregnant young widow just Bella's age.

"No darling, it's more serious than that."

"I doubt she'd think so," Bella murmured as she crawled out of bed, absently patting her own,
rounder, stomach.

"I need to go into the Enclave," Edward replied as he packed her a small bag of necessities. "I want
you to stay inside the convent."

"The convent?" She yawned. "Don't be silly, Edward. I'll be fine here until you return."

"No," Edward shook his head. "I want you to stay inside the convent. Dr. Ching from Wuhan will
be watching my clinic so it's best if you're not in his way."

"I won't be in his way," she argued tiredly and tried to move back to the bed.

"No," Edward wrapped his arms around her waist and kept her standing. "I'm quarantining the
convent so that you and the rest will be safe."

"Quarantining? Whatever for Edward?"

"That fool Newton went into Shanghai for some reason and somehow contracted Typhoid fever.
Probably visiting the pleasure palaces," Edward answered as he carefully pulled her dress over her
head.

"Typhoid?" She shook her head as it popped out of the neckline of her dress and she smoothed the
sleeves out over her arms.

"That's what it sounds like," Edward answered as he began to zip up the back of her dress.

"Has it passed to the village?" He could hear how worried she was as she smoothed her dress and
slipped her feet into the delicate leather slippers that she'd received as a wedding present from the
head of the Nationalist militia the last time they'd come through Angran dao.

"I don't think so," Edward reassured her. "I'll send Sister Anne to check the villagers and she'll act

as Dr. Ching's nurse while I'm gone. She and Sister Marguerite have both nursed in typhoid
epidemics before so if that's what this is they'll know what to do."

"What should we do at the convent?" He couldn't help leaning down to kiss her cheek as her mind
snapped into what he'd deemed 'military mode' as she began to plot all the necessary logistics.

"Stay inside the convent grounds. Don't even come across to the clinic until you hear that the
village is clear of the disease. Keep the children inside the grounds especially. Boil all the clothes,
bathe everyone, and scrub the surfaces from top to bottom with antiseptic and boiling water. That
is for the nuns though. You, my love, are to keep your feet up as much as possible, drink plenty of
boiled water and eat lots of fruit and vegetables. You need all the rest and good nutrition that can
be managed. Don't overexert yourself while I'm gone."

"Edward," she sighed.

"Repeat after me," he kissed her nose and then reached down for his battered black bag. "Lazy is
good."

"Lazy is good," she repeated sourly and then stepped around him to retrieve his lab coat and
stethoscope.

Monday, October 25. 1926

A week, Edward fought against the urge to wipe at the sweat he could feel collecting on his
covered brow. The only way to prevent contaminated lice from taking up residence on the skin was
frequent baths and covering as much of the body as possible. Since it wasn't possible for him to
bathe between patients, he had resorted to covering as much of himself as possible to prevent the
spread of the disease.

Twenty seven people had fallen ill with typhoid fever inside the Enclave in the past week. Newton,
Edward wished he'd strangled the man months ago instead of letting the typhoid kill him, had been
the first to die and twenty two others had followed him. Two patients, Angela Cheney and Eric
Yorkie, were recovering and he had hope that a third, Angela's husband Ben, would as well.

Edward checked the line on the bag of fluids he was currently giving Ben Cheney and then let out
another sigh. The man's fever had spiked and watching him now, Edward noticed a faint gleam of
sweat on his forehead. "Thank you," he glanced upward and smiled.

"He's better?" Angela Cheney croaked out from her spot on the cot next to her husband's.

"The fever's broken," Edward replied and couldn't keep the hope from his voice. "As long as we
can keep him hydrated and no infections set in he should recover."

"Thank you Doctor Cullen," he heard the young woman sigh and then the rustle of bed sheets as
she reclined back against her pillow.

"You need to rest Angela," he chided her. "It will do Ben no good to get better and find that you've
damaged your own health worrying about him."

"I know, Doctor Cullen," she answered and he could hear the relief in her voice. "I've just been so
worried about him. He got sick taking care of me after all."

"Well," Edward replied, remembering the haunted look that had been so similar between each of
them when the other had taken ill, "you're both on the mend now so worry less and rest more.
That's an order."

"Yes Doctor," he heard the other woman smile and turned to look at her. "So, are we still holding
steady then?"

"Thankfully," Edward replied. "Ben was the last person to fall ill and that means the spread of the
epidemic may be over."

"Then you'll be returning to your clinic?"

"If Ben continues to respond to treatment, I'll leave the day after tomorrow. I'll call on you both
until you've fully recovered but there'll be no need for you to stay in the infirmary."

"You should bring Bella with you one day," Angela announced and Edward froze.

"I don't," he started.

"Even if it's just to see me and Ben once we've fully recovered. I wouldn't dream of asking you to
bring her here before then. Not in her condition."

Edward stopped himself from refusing her outright. Bella hadn't been inside the Enclave since that
night three months earlier. Charles Swan had sent Angela out to bring her the two spare dresses she
owned and her shoes along with a witnessed letter to tell her that he no longer recognized her as his
daughter. He'd taken to the pulpit the next Sunday and done exactly as Bella had suspected he
would - denounced both of them for their behavior. Edward had endured the snide comments when
he went inside the Enclave and kept Bella at the clinic - away from the scandal.

Angela and Ben Cheney had been her friends though. They'd come often to the clinic in the first
weeks to check on her and though neither had said anything, Edward knew they'd stopped
attending prayer services in support of Bella - something he knew was a hardship for the preacher's
daughter. While Angela still seemed wary of him, he had to admit the other woman was warming
up to the idea that he wasn't the conscienceless, violent revolutionary out to destroy their way of
life and debauch their innocent daughters that Mike Newton and Charles Swan had made him out
to be.

"We'll see," he conceded guardedly.

"I hope," Angela Weber started coughing and he handed her a handkerchief, taking it back to

check for blood when she was finished. "I hope that now things will be easier for you, all things
considering."

Yes, Edward thought as he left the infirmary that had once been Charles Swan's church, all things
considering. Considering that Mike Newton had caught typhoid while taking Charles Swan to
Shanghai so that the other man could leave China - not even bothering to tell his daughter goodbye.
Considering that Mike Newton, her second biggest detractor, had fallen ill on the journey back to
Angran dao and hadn't mentioned it to anyone inside the Enclave - even giving the prayer service
that Sunday since they were now without a minister and exposing most of the residents to typhoid
fever. Considering that Newton had then tried to countermand Edward at every point he could until
his eventual demise, actually suggesting to the other patients that they shouldn't let Edward treat
them because he was a 'closet Nationalist' that wanted to kill them all. Considering that her scandal
of a husband had saved the few lives that were left. Yes, Edward thought, all things considering,
people should be much kinder to Bella now. He doubted that they would be though.

Two days, he thought to himself. Two days and then he would be home. He'd heard several
members of the Enclave debating whether or not to disband their factories and return home - the
illness and the increasing power of the Nationalists no longer made life in China as attractive as it
had been. Meanwhile, Dr. Ching had mentioned during their last discussion that he was
considering retiring from the Nationalists because of his advancing age, and setting up practice in
one of the villages on the river so that he could still act as an informant. Now that Charles Swan
had quit China, Bella would have no reason to stay and if the Sisters and Dr. Ching were amiable to
the arrangement, he could let the other man act as his replacement and the two of them could go
home.

Unless Bella decided that she wanted to stay in China, he amended. After all, he'd learned that
trying to fight off his headstrong wife was impossible - she'd always beat him in the end - and
besides, for Edward, home was anywhere he could love Isabella Marie Swan. No matter how
insufferable she could sometimes be.

Translations

Zaidu – Once More /Again

Yi zai tui – One more push

Meiguo Xiansheng – American Doctor

Yi, er, san, tai – One, two, three, lift

Niu - Ox