Crazy Rich Asians

by Kevin Kwan

  This morning, however, with Rachel looking rather ashen-faced, Peik Lin began to wonder if the trip was a good idea so soon.

  “You didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?” Peik Lin observed.

  “I didn’t realize how much I’d miss having Nick next to me at night,” Rachel said softly.

  “His gorgeous, rock-hard body, you mean?” Peik Lin added with a wink. “Well, I’m sure he’d be happy to come over and climb back into bed with you in a nanosecond.”

  “No, no, that’s not going to happen. I know it’s over. It has to be,” Rachel declared, her eyes moistening around the edges.

  Peik Lin opened her mouth to say something, but then she stopped herself.

  Rachel looked at her intently. “Just say it!”

  Peik Lin put her tote bag down and perched on the velvet brocade settee in the entrance foyer. “I just think you need to give yourself some time before you make any final decisions about Nick. I mean, you’re going through so much right now.”

  “It sounds like you’re on his side,” Rachel said.

  “Rachel—what the fuck? I’m on your side! I want to see you happy, that’s all.”

  Rachel said nothing for a moment. She sat down on the staircase and ran her fingers along the cold smooth marble. “I want to be happy, but every time I think about Nick, I just go right back to the most traumatic moment of my life.”

  Trump, the fattest of the three Pekingese, waddled into the foyer. Rachel picked up the dog and placed him on her lap. “I guess that’s why I feel like I need to meet my father. I remember watching some talk show one night where adopted children finally got reunited with their birth parents. Every single one of these kids—all of them were adults at this point—talked about how they felt after meeting their birth parents. Even if they didn’t get along, even if their parents were nothing like what they expected, all of them somehow felt more whole after the experience.”

  “Well, in less than four hours, you’ll be sitting face-to-face with your father,” Peik Lin said.

  Rachel’s face clouded over. “You know, I’m dreading the drive up to that place. Dongguan Prison. Even the name sounds ominous.”

  “I don’t think they want it to sound like it’s Canyon Ranch.”

  “It’s supposed to be medium security, so I wonder if we’ll actually be in the same room together, or whether I’ll have to talk to him behind bars,” Rachel said.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? We really don’t have to do this today, you know. I can just cancel the flight. It’s not like your father’s going anywhere,” Peik Lin said.

  “No, I want to go. I want to get this over with,” Rachel said definitively. She ruffled the dog’s golden fur for a moment and stood up, smoothing out her skirt.

  They made their way to the front door, where the metallic-gold BMW, already loaded with their luggage, awaited. Rachel and Peik Lin got into the back, and the chauffeur pulled down the sloping driveway toward the gilded electronic gates of Villa d’Oro. Just as the gates were opening, an SUV suddenly pulled up in front of them.

  “Who’s the asshole blocking our way?” Peik Lin snapped.

  Rachel looked out the windshield and saw a silver Land Rover with tinted windows. “Wait a minute …” she began, thinking she recognized the car. The driver’s door opened, and Nick jumped out. Rachel sighed, wondering what kind of stunt he was trying to pull now. Was he going to insist on coming along to Shenzhen with them?

  Nick approached the car and rapped on the back window.

  Rachel lowered the window slightly. “Nick, we have a plane to catch,” she said in frustration. “I appreciate that you want to help, but I really don’t want you to go to China.”

  “I’m not going to China, Rachel. I’m bringing China to you,” Nick said, flashing a smile.

  “Whaaaat?” Rachel said, glancing at the Land Rover, half expecting a man in an orange jumpsuit and shackles to emerge. Instead, the passenger door opened and a woman in a pale orange trench-coat dress with pixie-cut black hair stepped out. It was her mother.

  Rachel flung open her car door and jumped out hastily. “What are you doing here? When did you arrive?” she said defensively in Mandarin to her mother.

  “I just landed. Nick told me what happened. I told him we had to stop you from going to China, but he said he wasn’t going to get involved anymore. So I said I had to reach you before you tried to meet your father, and Nick chartered a private plane for me,” Kerry explained.

  “I wish he hadn’t.” Rachel moaned in dismay. These rich people and their friggin’ planes!

  “I’m glad he did. Nick has been so wonderful!” Kerry exclaimed.

  “Great—why don’t you throw him a parade or take him out for oysters? I’m on my way to Shenzhen right now. I need to meet my father.”

  “Please don’t go!” Kerry tried to grab hold of Rachel’s arm, but Rachel jerked back defensively.

  “Because of you, I’ve had to wait twenty-nine years to meet my father. I’m not waiting another second!” Rachel shouted.

  “Daughter, I know you didn’t want to see me, but I needed to tell you this myself: Zhou Fang Min is not your father.”

  “I’m not listening to you anymore, Mom. I’m tired of all the lies. I’ve read the articles about my kidnapping, and Mr. Goh’s Chinese lawyers have already been in touch with my father. He’s very eager to meet me.” Rachel was adamant.

  Kerry looked pleadingly into her daughter’s eyes. “Please believe me—you don’t want to meet him. Your father is not the man in Dongguan Prison. Your father is someone else, someone I truly loved.”

  “Oh great, now you’re telling me I’m the illegitimate daughter of some other guy?” Rachel could feel the torrent of blood rushing into her head, and she felt as if she was back in that horrific drawing room in Cameron Highlands. Just when things were beginning to make sense to her, everything was turned upside down again. Rachel turned to Peik Lin and gave her a dazed look. “Could you ask your driver to step on his gas pedal and just run me over right now? Tell him to make it quick.”

  19

  The Star Trek House

  SINGAPORE

  Daisy Foo phoned Eleanor in a panic, telling her to come quickly, but Eleanor still could not believe her eyes when she entered the living room of Carol Tai’s mansion, the one everyone called the “Star Trek House.” Sister Gracie, the Taiwan-born Houston-based Pentecostal preacher who had just flown in at Carol’s request, circled around the lavishly appointed space as if in a trance, smashing up all the antique Chinese furniture and porcelain, while Carol and her husband sat in the middle of the room on the woven silk sofa, watching the destruction in a daze as two disciples of Sister Gracie’s prayed over them. Following behind the diminutive preacher with tightly permed gray hair was a full brigade of servants, some helping to break the objects she pointed at with her rosewood walking stick, others frantically sweeping up all the debris and putting it into giant black garbage bags.

  “False idols! Satanic objects! Leave this house of peace,” Sister Gracie screamed, her voice echoing throughout the cavernous room. Priceless Ming vases were smashed, Qing dynasty scrolls were torn up, and gold-dipped Buddhas were toppled to the ground as Sister Gracie decreed every object bearing the depiction of an animal or a face to be satanic. Owls were satanic. Frogs were satanic. Grasshoppers were satanic. Lotus flowers, though not an animal and faceless, were also deemed satanic because of their association with Buddhist iconography. But there was none more evil than the devilish dragon.

  “Do you know why tragedy has befallen this house? Do you know why your firstborn son, Bernard, has defied your wishes and run off to Vegas to marry some pregnant soap-opera harlot who pretends to be from Taiwan? It is because of these idols! Just look at the intricate lapis lazuli dragon on this imperial folding screen! Its evil ruby eyes have transfixed your son. You have surrounded him with symbols of sin every day of his life. What do you expect him to do but sin?”

&nb
sp; “What utter nonsense is she talking? Bernard hasn’t lived in this house for years,” Lorena Lim whispered. But Carol was looking at Sister Gracie as if she were receiving a message from Jesus Christ himself, and she continued to allow the wholesale destruction of antiquities that would have made any museum curator weep.

  “It’s been like this for hours. They started in the dato’s study,” Daisy whispered. Eleanor jumped a little as Sister Gracie tipped over a Qianlong funerary urn next to her. “Those snakes on that urn! Those snakes are descended from the one in the Garden of Eden,” Sister Gracie screeched.

  “Alamak, Elle, Lorena, come help me rescue some things from Carol’s bedroom before Sister Gracie gets in there. If she sees that ivory sculpture of Quan Yin, the goddess of mercy, she’s going to start convulsing! That Quan Yin has been around since the twelfth century, but it will have no hope surviving this one,” Daisy said furtively. The three of them backed slowly away from the living room and made a beeline for Carol’s bedroom.

  The ladies rushed about wrapping up any decorative objects that could possibly be at risk in towels and pillowcases and shoving them into their handbags and random shopping bags.

  “Those jade parrots! Grab those jade parrots!” Daisy instructed.

  “Is the water buffalo considered satanic?” Lorena wondered, holding up a delicate horn carving.

  “Aiyah, don’t stand there using eye power! Take everything! Put it all in your handbag! We can return everything to Carol once she comes to her senses,” Daisy barked.

  “I wish I’d used my Birkin and not my Kelly today,” Lorena lamented as she tried to fit the water buffalo into her stiff leather handbag.

  “Okay, my driver is parked just outside the kitchen door. Give me the first shopping bags and I will run them over to my car,” Eleanor said. As she grabbed the first two shopping bags from Daisy, a maid entered Carol’s bedroom.

  Eleanor knew she had to get past the maid with her suspiciously bulging shopping bags. “Girlie, fetch me a glass of iced tea with lemon,” she said in her most imperious tone.

  “Alamak, Elle, it’s me—Nadine!” Eleanor almost dropped her shopping bags in shock. Nadine was utterly unrecognizable. She was dressed in yoga sweats, and gone was the thick mask of makeup, the over-teased hair, and the ostentatious jewelry.

  “Oh my God, Nadine, what happened to you? I thought you were one of the maids!” Eleanor exclaimed.

  “Nadine, I love your new look! Aiyah, now I can see how Francesca used to look just like you, before her cheek implants,” Daisy gushed.

  Nadine smiled bleakly, plopping down on Carol’s Huanghuali bed. “My father-in-law woke up from his coma, as you know. We were all so happy, and when they discharged him from the hospital, we drove him home and had a surprise party waiting for him. All the Shaws were there. But we forgot the old man had never been to the new house—we bought Leedon Road after he had gone into a coma. Old man threw a fit when he realized this was our new house. He said, ‘Wah, who do you think you are, living in such a big mansion with so many cars and servants?’ Then when he got inside and saw Francesca all dressed up, he started to choke. He started screaming that she looked like a prostitute from Geylang.* Aiyah, she was wearing haute couture for her grandpa! Is it her fault that hemlines are so short this season? The very next morning, he made his lawyers take back control of Shaw Foods. He kicked my poor Ronnie off the board, and he froze all the bank accounts, everything. Now he has ordered us to return every penny we’ve spent in the last six years, or he’s threatening to disinherit all of us and give his whole fortune to the Shaw Foundation!”

  “My goodness, Nadine. How are you managing?” Lorena asked, gravely concerned. Nadine was one of L’Orient Jewelry’s biggest clients, and her sudden reversal of fortune would surely affect the quarterly numbers.

  “Well, you see my new look. For now, we are all trying to act kwai kwai. I mean, how many more years can that old man live? He’ll have another stroke in no time. I’ll be fine—I spent years living in that cramped shop house with him, remember? We put Leedon Road on the market, but the problem is Francesca. She doesn’t want to move back to a small house again. It’s so malu for her. She’s really suffering. Francesca was always Grandpa’s favorite, and now he’s taken away her monthly allowance. How is she supposed to live on her lawyer’s salary? Wandi Meggaharto and Parker Yeo have dropped her, and she’s had to resign from every charitable board. She just can’t afford the clothes for it anymore. She blames Ronnie and me. She comes into our bedroom every night and screams and screams at us. She thinks we should have pulled the plug on the old man when we had the chance. Can you imagine? I never realized my own daughter could ever say such a thing!”

  “I’m sorry to say this, Nadine, but this is what happens when you try to give your children everything,” Daisy sagely offered. “Look at what’s happened with Bernard. From the time he was a small boy I already knew he was a disaster waiting to happen. The dato’ spoiled him rotten, and never ever said no to him. And he thought he was being so clever, giving the boy that huge trust fund when he turned eighteen. Now look what’s happened. They’re getting Kitty Pong as a daughter-in-law. No amount of antique-smashing is going to change that.”

  Lorena giggled. “Poor Carol—she’s always been such a good Christian, but now she has to deal with having a satanic Kitty in her life!” The ladies all laughed.

  “Well, at least we succeeded in stopping that Rachel Chu from getting at Nicky,” Nadine commented.

  Eleanor shook her head sadly. “What’s the use? My Nicky has stopped talking to me. I don’t have a clue where he is—he’s even broken off contact with his grandmother. I tried calling Astrid to find him, but she’s missing too. Sum toong, ah. You love your children so much, you do everything to try to protect them, and they don’t even appreciate it.”

  “Well, even if he doesn’t want to see you right now, at least you succeeded in saving him from that girl,” Lorena said comfortingly.

  “Yes, but Nicky doesn’t realize how much damage he’s done to his relationship with his grandmother. I trained him to never, ever offend her, but he hurt her terribly in Cameron Highlands. You should have seen the old lady—she didn’t speak once all the way back to Singapore. And take it from me, that woman never forgives. Now all the sacrifices I have made will have been for nothing,” Eleanor said sadly, her voice cracking a little.

  “What do you mean?” Nadine asked. “What sort of sacrifices did you make for Nicky?”

  Eleanor sighed. “Aiyah, Nadine, my whole life has been spent protecting him within my husband’s family, and positioning him to be the favorite grandson. I know my mother-in-law never truly approved of me, so I even got out of the way. I moved out of Tyersall Park so there wouldn’t be two competing Mrs. Youngs. I always let her come first in Nicky’s life, and because of this he’s been closer to her. But I accepted that. It was for his own good. He deserves to be the heir to her fortune, the heir to Tyersall Park, but he no longer seems to care. He would rather be a bloody history professor. Hiyah, I always knew sending him to England would be a mistake. Why do we Chinese never learn? Every time we get mixed up with the West, everything falls apart.”

  Just then, Sister Gracie came walking down the lawn toward the bedroom pavilion with Carol and her husband trailing behind. She called out loudly, “Now, what demons lie in wait here? Exodus 20:3–6 says, ‘You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God.’ ”

  Daisy glanced at the other ladies and said urgently, “Everyone grab a shopping bag and run for the doors. Don’t look at them, just keep moving!”

  * * *

  * Singapore’s red-light district (sadly, not as picturesque as Amsterdam’s).

  20

  Villa d’Ora

&n
bsp; SINGAPORE

  Peik Lin sequestered Rachel and her mother in the library, shutting the boiserie doors behind her firmly. She then padded out to the terrace bar overlooking the pool and began mixing margaritas for herself and Nick. “I think we both deserve about a dozen of these, don’t we?” she said, handing him a tall frosty glass.

  Surrounded by bookshelves filled with gold-tooled leather volumes, Rachel perched on the cushioned bay-window seat and stared out at the rose garden angrily. All she wanted to do was get on that plane to China, but once again Nick had screwed things up. Kerry grabbed one of the dark green leather chairs by the reading desk and turned it around so she could sit facing her daughter. Even though Rachel wouldn’t look at her, she took a deep breath and began the story she had flown halfway around the world to tell.

  “Daughter, I have never told this story to anyone, and it is something I always intended to spare you from. I hope you will not judge me, and that you will listen with an open mind, an open heart.

  “When I was seventeen, I fell in love with a man who was six years older. Yes, it was Zhou Fang Min. His family was from Xiamen, in Fujian Province. He was one of those ‘Red Princelings’ and he came from a rich family—at least, for that time period, they were considered rich. His father was the general manager of a state-owned construction company. He was well placed in the Communist Party, and one of his older brothers was a high-level party chief in Guangdong Province. So the Zhous received the concession to build the new school in our village, and Fang Min was sent to oversee the construction. It was his summer job. Back then, I was in my final year of secondary school and working nights as a waitress in the only bar in our village, so that is how I met him. Now, up till this time I had spent my entire life in this small village outside of Zhuhai. I had never even left our province, so you can only imagine what it was like when this twenty-three-year-old man with slick black hair came into the bar, dressed in Western-style clothes—I remember his shirts were all Sergio Tacchini or Fred Perry, and he wore a gold Rolex. What’s more, Fang Min had an expensive motorbike and chain-smoked Kent cigarettes smuggled into the country by one of his cousins, and he would brag to me about his family’s big house and big Japanese car, and tell me tales of his holidays in Shanghai, Beijing, and Xi’an. I had never met a more handsome or sophisticated man, and I fell head over heels in love. Of course, back then, I had very long hair and fair skin, so Fang Min took an interest in me.