Professor Oon scanned the morning’s reports, his eyes widening. “My goodness…Bravo, Mrs. Young—I am amazed you are feeling so well this morning!”
Su Yi ignored the doctor, her eyes instead focusing on Eddie. “What an interesting place for you to sit,” she said mischievously.
“Oh, sorry,” Eddie said, getting flustered as he hastily got up from his chair at the head of the table, while Nick dutifully rolled Su Yi’s chair into place.
“Come, sit next to me,” Su Yi said to Nick, patting the table. One of the maids swiftly produced a chair, and as Nick took his seat beside his grandmother at the head of the table, he couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. For the first time since he had arrived in Singapore, he felt like he was home again.
Ah Ling entered the breakfast room and placed a cup and saucer in front of Su Yi. “Here’s your favorite da hong pao*2 tea.”
“Splendid. I feel like I haven’t tasted tea in ages. Ah Ling, did you get my message to see that Nicky’s room is made up? For some reason he’s been staying in Sentosa, of all places!”
“Yes, Nicky’s bedroom is all ready for him,” Ah Ling announced, trying to suppress a giggle as she noticed the veins in Eddie’s neck beginning to twitch.
“Is my little brother coming over tomorrow for Friday-night dinner?” Su Yi asked.
“Yes. We’re making Mr. Shang his favorite yen woh.”
“Ah, good. Astrid, be sure to invite Charlie tomorrow night.”
Astrid’s heart soared. “I’m sure he would love to come, Ah Ma.”
“Has everyone seen Astrid’s engagement ring?” Su Yi asked.
Catherine, Alix, and Victoria craned their necks to study the diamond on Astrid’s finger, realizing with a start that they were staring at their mother’s old engagement ring.
Alix, who had absolutely no interest in jewelry, quickly went back to devouring her crepe, but Victoria couldn’t hide her look of disappointment—she always thought that this ring would be hers one day.
“Astrid, it looks lovely on you,” Catherine offered, before adding, “Are you planning on having an engagement party?”
Su Yi cut in enthusiastically, “What a good idea. Ah Ling, will you call the T’siens and the Tans to come over tomorrow night? Let’s have a party!”
“Of course,” Ah Ling said.
“Mummy, I don’t think you should have so much excitement when you’re just beginning to feel better. You should rest,” Victoria said officiously.
“Nonsense, I’ll rest when I’m dead. Tomorrow, I want to see everyone. Let’s celebrate Astrid’s engagement and Nicky’s homecoming!” Su Yi decreed.
Fiona noticed that Eddie was turning purple. Elbowing him in the ribs, she said, “Eddie, loosen your ascot so the air can get in. And breathe, darling. Breathe deeply.”
* * *
*1 Cantonese for “How are you?”
*2 Grown in the Wuyi Mountains of China’s Fujian Province, da hong pao—which translates to “big red robe”—is one of the world’s rarest teas. It’s priced at $1,400 per gram, which makes the tea worth thirty times its weight in gold.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WU MANSIONS, SINGAPORE
“Your IC, please,” the security guard said sternly as Astrid rolled down the window of her car. Astrid dug into her purse for her wallet, took out her Singapore Identity Card, and handed it to the guard. He held the card up to his eye level to compare the semi-pixilated photograph to her face, squinting at every detail.
“It was a bad-hair day,” Astrid joked.
The guard didn’t crack a smile, but took her IC into the guardhouse and began to scan it through his computer system.
Astrid had to resist rolling her eyes. This particular Mainland Chinese guard already knew her—how many times had she been here in the past few months? It made her understand how the Wus came to develop a particular reputation among Singapore’s establishment when Charlie’s father, Wu Hao Lian, first made his fortune in the early 1980s. The Wus did seem pretentious—there was no avoiding that fact.
At a time when the moneyed crowd preferred to populate elegant bungalows tucked away in the leafy enclaves of Districts 9, 10, and 11, Wu Hao Lian had bought a large parcel of land off one of Singapore’s busiest thoroughfares and built a sprawling family compound right there for all the world to see. He had erected a tall white stucco wall around the property, and at the top of the wall, sharp red-glazed tiles undulated up and down like the scaley curves on a dragon’s back, ending at the main gates with twin carved dragon heads in bronze. Rectangular gold plaques placed in niches at thirty-foot intervals around the wall were engraved in an ornate calligraphy script with the words:
To ordinary Singaporeans—the ninety percent who lived in public-housing apartments—it seemed like the Wus were the richest family in the land. The family was seen being driven around in a fleet of ever-changing Rolls-Royces, always accompanied by security guards in a Mercedes wherever they went. They were one of the first families on the island to flaunt their private jet, and spent all their holidays touring Europe, where Irene Wu and her daughters developed a voracious appetite for haute couture and haute jewelry. Whenever Irene appeared in public, she was always clad in the most ornately festooned frocks and laden with so much jewelry that all the other socialites nicknamed her “Christmas Tree” behind her back.
But all this was so long ago, Astrid thought as the tall steel gate embossed with the ornate W seal began to slide to one side and she sped up the short driveway to the Palladian-style house with a white columned portico covered in bougainvillea. The Wus had receded into the background, especially after Charlie’s father passed away and a new generation of brash billionaires burst onto the scene in the early 2000s, building even more ostentatious pleasure domes and vying for visibility in the society pages. Only Charlie’s mother remained in Singapore these days, reluctant to give up her house.
Astrid pulled up behind a gray Mercedes SUV already parked underneath the portico. She saw Lincoln Tay, her distant cousin, emerge from the driver’s seat and walk around to the trunk of the car. “Ah Tock! Fancy seeing you here,” Astrid said as she got out of her car.
“What can I tell you? You’re always hanging around the rich and famous, and I just work for them,” he joked. “Now Astrid, tell me why are you still driving that old Acura? Does it even pass inspection anymore?”
“This is the most reliable car I’ve ever owned. I’m going to drive it until I’m forced to scrap it.”
“Come on lah, you are so loaded, at the very least you should upgrade to the ILX. Or maybe Charlie can buy Acura the company for you and have them design you a car from scratch.”