Crazy Rich Asians (49 page)

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Authors: Kevin Kwan

Tags: #Literary, #Retail, #Humor, #Nook, #Fiction

BOOK: Crazy Rich Asians
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“Oh, that thing costs way more than forty million,” Charlie said.

Araminta, in a pleated white chiffon-silk gown with long straps of hammered gold and
diamond links that crisscrossed her bodice, greeted her guests. Her hair was piled
high into a mound of intricate braids and festooned with diamonds, baroque pearls,
and moonstones. As the gown billowed around her in the ocean breeze, she could have
been mistaken for an Etruscan goddess. Standing at her side, looking a little worn
out from the day’s festivities, was Colin in a white linen tuxedo.

Looking through the crowd, Araminta asked Colin, “Do you see your cousin Astrid anywhere?”

“I saw her brothers, but I haven’t spotted her yet,” Colin answered.

“Let me know the minute you spot her—I need to know what she’s wearing tonight!”

“I spy Astrid disembarking from the third ferry,” Colin reported.


Alamak
, she’s wearing a
cheongsam
! Why didn’t she wear one of her fabulous couture creations?” Araminta sighed.

“I think she looks lovely, and that cheongsam was probably handmade—”

“But I was
waiting
to see what designer she would turn up in! I go to all this trouble, and she doesn’t
even bother to make the effort. What’s the whole fucking point of this wedding?” Araminta
moaned.

When the last boatload of guests had disembarked, the illuminated crystalline façade
of the banquet hall suddenly morphed into an intense shade of fuschia. Haunting New
Age music boomed from the surrounding forest, and the trees were bathed in golden
light. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, golden cords descended from the thick foliage.
Wrapped cocoon-like in these cords were acrobats with bodies that had been painted
gold. “Oh my goodness—I think it’s Cirque du Soleil!” the guests began murmuring excitedly.
As the acrobats started to unfurl and spin around the cords as effortlessly as lemurs,
the crowd broke into rapturous applause.

Kitty jumped up and down like a hyperactive child.

“You seem to be having a good time,” Oliver said, sidling up next to her and noticing
that her breasts didn’t seem to jiggle naturally inside that lacey turquoise gown.
He also noticed that she had a thin sheen of body glitter on.
Bad combo
, he thought.

“I love Cirque du Soleil! I’ve gone to every single one of their
performances in Hong Kong. Now, I must have these acrobats at my wedding too.”

“My goodness, that will be costly,” Oliver said in exaggerated awe.

“Oh, Alistair can handle it,” Kitty replied breezily.

“You think so? I didn’t realize Alistair was doing
that
well in the movie business.”

“Hiyah, don’t you think his parents will pay for the wedding?” Kitty said as she stared
at the gold-painted acrobats while they began to form a human arch.

“Are you kidding me?” Oliver lowered his voice, continuing, “Do you have any idea
how cheap his mother is?”

“She is?”

“Haven’t you been to that flat of theirs on Robinson Road?”

“Er … no. I was never invited.”

“That’s probably because Alistair was too embarrassed to show it to you. It’s a very
basic three-bedroom flat. Alistair had to share a bedroom with his brother until he
went to college. I went to visit in 1991, and there were these yellow floral bath
mats in the toilet. And when I went again last month, the yellow floral bath mats
were still there, except that they are grayish floral now.”

“Really?” Kitty said in disbelief.

“Well, look at his mother. You think she wears those old eighties dresses on purpose?
She wears them to save money.”

“But I thought Alistair’s father is a famous heart doctor?” Kitty was confused.

Oliver paused. Thank God she didn’t seem to know about the Chengs’ massive real estate
holdings. “Do you have any idea how much malpractice insurance costs these days? Doctors
don’t make as much money as you think. Do you know how much it costs to send three
children to study overseas? Eddie went to Cambridge, Cecilia went to UBC,

and Alistair—well, you know how long Alistair took to graduate from Sydney University.
The Chengs spent most of their savings on their children’s education.”

“I had no idea.”

“And you know how Malcolm is. He’s a traditional Cantonese man—what remaining money
he has will all go to his eldest son.”

Kitty went quiet, and Oliver prayed he hadn’t laid it on too thick.

“But of course, I know none of that is important to you,” he added. “You’re in love,
and you don’t really need Cirque du Soleil performing at your wedding, do you? I mean,
you’ll get to stare at that cute puppy-dog face of Alistair’s every morning for the
rest of your life. That’s worth all the money in the world, isn’t it?”

*
The custom at Chinese weddings is for guests to contribute a cash gift meant to help
defray the cost of the lavish banquet, and it is usually the task of some unfortunate
second cousin to collect and keep track of all these cash-stuffed envelopes.


The traditional Singaporean toast, which literally means “finish drinking.”


University of British Columbia in Vancouver, commonly referred to by locals as “University
of a Billion Chinese.”

8
Pulau Samsara

OFF THE SOUTHERN COAST OF SINGAPORE

At nine o’clock sharp, the wedding-ball attendees were led into the vast banquet hall
set amid the indigenous tropical rain forest. Along the south walls were archways
that led to grotto-like alcoves, while the curved north wall consisted of a curtain
of glass that overlooked a man-made lagoon and a dramatic waterfall tumbling over
moss-covered boulders. All along the edge of the lagoon, a profusion of exotic flowers
and plants seemed to glow in iridescent colors.

“Did they build all this just for the wedding banquet?” Carol Tai asked in astonishment.

“No,
lah
! Those Lees always have business on their mind—this building is the centerpiece of
a new luxury eco-resort they are developing—Pulau Samsara, they’re calling it,” her
husband revealed.

“What, are they going to try to sell us condos after the wedding cake is served?”
Lorena Lim sniggered.

“They can give this resort some fancy new name, but I know for a fact the island used
to be called
Pulau Hantu—‘Ghost Island.’
It was one of the outlying islands where the Japanese soldiers took all the young
able-bodied Chinese men and had them shot during World War II. This island is haunted
with ghosts of the war dead,” Daisy Foo whispered.


Alamak
, Daisy, if you truly have faith in the Lord, you won’t believe in such things as
ghosts!” Carol admonished.

“Well, what about the Holy Ghost, Carol? Isn’t he a ghost too?” Daisy retorted.

Minutes after Rachel and Nick were seated, the dinner began with military precision
as a battalion of waiters marched in with glowing LED-domed trays. The engraved menu
card indicated that it was
Giant South Sea Scallop Consommé with Washington State Ginseng Vapors and Black Mushrooms,
*
but Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to do when the white-gloved waiter at her side
lifted the shimmering dome off her plate. In front of her was a bowl, but encasing
the surface of the bowl was what appeared to be a pinkish, membrane-like bubble that
wobbled on its own accord.

“What are we supposed to do with this?” Rachel asked.

“Just pop it!” Nick encouraged.

Rachel looked at it, giggling. “I’m afraid! I feel like some alien creature is going
to burst out of it.”

“Here, stand back, I’ll pop it for you,” Mehmet, who was on her right, offered.

“No, no, I’ll do it,” Rachel said bravely. She gave it a jab with her fork, and the
bubble immediately collapsed on itself, releasing a burst of pungent medicinal steam
into the air. As the filmy pink membrane met the surface of the soup, it created a
beautiful marbleized pattern across its surface. Rachel could now see an enormous
poached scallop in the middle of the bowl and thinly julienned black mushrooms artfully
positioned like sun rays around it.

“Hmm. I gather the bubble was the ginseng,” Mehmet said. “It’s always guesswork when
you’re eating molecular cuisine, even more so when it’s Pacific Rim fusion molecular
cuisine. What is the name of this culinary genius again?”

“I can’t remember exactly, but supposedly he trained with Chan Yan-tak before going
to do an apprenticeship at El Bulli,” Nick replied. “It’s really quite yummy, but
I can see from my mum’s expression that she’s having a fit.”

Four tables away, Eleanor was turning as red as the coral-beaded
bolero jacket she wore over her intricately pleated Fortuny silk gown, but it had
nothing to do with the soup. She had been in shock ever since she spotted Rachel on
the promenade wearing the Grand Duchess Zoya sapphire necklace. Could her disapproving
mother-in-law really have loaned the necklace to Rachel? Or, even more unthinkable,
had she
given
Rachel the necklace? What sort of black magic was Rachel doing at Tyersall Park?

“Are you going to drink your soup or not?” Philip asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“If you’re not going to have it, hand over the bowl before it gets cold.”

“I’ve lost my appetite tonight. Here, swap seats with me—I need to talk to your sister
for a minute.” Eleanor took her husband’s seat and smiled prettily at Victoria, who
was huddled in conversation with her cousin Dickie.

“Wah, Victoria, you should really wear jewelry more often—you look so pretty in these
cognac diamonds.”

Victoria wanted to roll her eyes. Eleanor had never once in three decades given her
a compliment, but now, when she had this heap of vulgar stones on her chest, Eleanor
was suddenly gushing. She was like all her other Sung sisters, so vain and materialistic.
“Yes, isn’t it fun? Mummy gave them to me. She was in a good mood today after the
wedding and was doling out heaps of jewels to everyone.”

“How nice for you,” Eleanor said breezily. “And isn’t that Mummy’s sapphire necklace
on Rachel Chu’s neck?”

“Yes, doesn’t it look
marvelous
on her? Mummy thought so too,” Victoria said with a smile. She knew perfectly well
that Fiona had been given the necklace and had loaned it to Rachel (after that delicious
scene on the stairs with Eddie that Ling Cheh had breathlessly reenacted for her),
but she chose not to share that detail with Eleanor. Far more amusing to see Eleanor
get worked up over nothing.


Alamak
, aren’t you the least bit concerned about Rachel?” Eleanor queried.

“Concerned about what?” Victoria asked, knowing full well what Eleanor meant.

“Well, her dubious family background, for starters.”

“Oh, come on, Eleanor. You need to stop being so old-fashioned. Nobody cares about
that kind of stuff anymore. Rachel is so well
educated and down-to-earth. And she speaks perfect Mandarin.” She took care to mention
all the things Eleanor was not.

“I didn’t know she spoke perfect Mandarin,” Eleanor said, getting more worried by
the minute.

“Yes, she’s very accomplished. Why, I had the most fascinating conversation with her
this morning about the importance of micro-lending in sub-Saharan Africa. You should
feel lucky that Nicky has a girlfriend like her, and not someone like that spendthrift
Araminta Lee. Can you imagine what the Khoos must be thinking right now, sitting here
in the middle of this mosquito-infested jungle eating this absurd food? I’m so bloody
sick of this Chinese fusion trend. I mean, it says on this menu card that this is
Caramelized Peking Duck y Chocolat Molé
, but it looks like peanut brittle. Where’s the duck, I ask you? Where’s the damn
duck?”

“Will you excuse me a moment?” Eleanor said, getting up from the table abruptly.

Francesca was just about to take a pensive first bite into her
Hawaiian Suckling Pig Truffle Tacos
when Eleanor interrupted her. “Will you please come with me at once?”

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