I laugh, plunging all my fingers through the streaks, waving my hands and creating a web of gleaming gossamer. ‘I’m a spider!’
‘Eat, Lady Jing.’ Mr Lee holds out a chocolate-glazed profiterole.
His hands glimmer. Mr Lee gives me an encouraging smile. Even his teeth are limned with gold. I try to touch them, but he backs out of my reach. With my arm outstretched, I notice my own body exudes that same golden lustre.
‘Wah! I sparkle,’ I say, giggling as I look at my hands and wrists. I push my sleeves up to see more, to see if I shimmer all over.
‘Open up—’ Mr Lee is trying to feed me a profiterole.
‘You are a nice man,’ I say, and bite into the soft pastry, the whipped cream a cool cloud on my tongue.
His golden glow pulses – is he pleased? I can’t stop laughing. I raise my shimmering arms over my head, swaying them back and forth and watching the air streak with gold. I start to unbutton my shirt, but Mr Lee’s hands are on mine.
‘What are you doing?’ His voice has gone all squeaky.
I slap his hands away. ‘My arms sparkle,’ I say. ‘I bet I sparkle everywhere!’
‘Wait!’ Mr Lee’s hands close over mine again. ‘You should eat more. Have some strawberries. And another profiterole. I brought moretoo seerolls and caramels. Let me unwrap them for you,’ Mr Lee says, shifting my hands so he can hold both in one. With the other hand, he picks up another profiterole.
‘Do you sparkle everywhere? Can I see?’ I reach for the buttons on his shirt, but his hand goes to his throat, like a delicate maiden. It makes me giggle even harder.
Before he can catch my hands again, I leap up and start backing away. He tries to grab me, but I turn and run, circling the pink armchair and giggling as Mr Lee gives chase.
‘Please, Lady Jing.’
I snort and laugh. ‘Big Wang’s guards could never catch me. You definitely can’t!’ I unbutton my shirt and pull it over my head. I catch sight of myself in the mirror hanging on the bedroom door and stop running. I sparkle everywhere! I run my hands up and down my arms, over my pale belly. My cropped dudou, a pretty embroidered slip of silk, covers my breasts. I peek under it and bark a laugh.
‘My ta-tas sparkle too!’
Mr Lee keeps trying to put my shirt back on, and I keep shrugging it off.
‘I bet my legs sparkle.’ I drop my trousers.
Mr Lee makes a strangled kind of sound. ‘Please, Lady Jing. Put your clothes on.’
I look down at my dudou and tap pants. ‘I am wearing clothes.’
When I look up, Mr Lee is facing the wall, his back to me. The nape of his neck all the way to the tips of his ears are bright red.
‘Lady Jing, there is more blood. How about another glass?’
I stop patting my sparkling skin. The rush isn’t quite so strong now. ‘You have more?’
‘Yes. I’ll pour you another glass, but you must first put your clothes back on.’
‘I told you, Iamwearing clothes.’
Mr Lee’s head tilts back, like he’s staring at the ceiling. ‘More clothes.’ His voice is wobbly.
‘Are you alright? You don’t sound well.’
‘Clothes, Lady Jing.’
‘So tetchy. I’ve run through the whole of Shanghai wearing less than this.’
He makes another choking sound. He takes three laboured breaths. ‘No more blood until you putallyour clothes back on.’
I make a horking sound in my throat. ‘You’re as bad as Horsey.’
