Ah Ma said she could tell if the mooncakes she was making that year for the Mid-Autumn Festival would be perfect or not just by the feel of the yolk. She had peeled the salted duck egg and weighed it with her hand. It was a good egg. She passed the golden middle to her granddaughter.
‘Oh no,’ said Peijing. Eager not to drop it into the sink, she had held on too tight. Now the yolk lay misshapen in her palm, no longer a miniature full moon.
Peijing looked out the kitchen window at the real full moon, hanging so yellow and round that it almost sat on top of all the apartment buildings surrounding their own. She felt as if the moon would drop out of the sky if she so much as breathed wrong.
The Guo family were very superstitious. There were things forbidden during the festival. Don’t point at the moon or the Goddess living there will cut your ear. Don’t stare at the moon if you have recently given birth, got married, done a bad deal in business or have too much Yang energy in your body.
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