Brother Zhu gazes up at me through ridiculously long and lush lashes. He doesn’t look at all repentant, if anything it’s like I’ve offered him a challenge he can’t refuse. He gives me a fist palm salute instead, then playfully growls back, ‘Feisty Celestials are my favourite.’
Before I can respond, he turns to Mr Lee and grasps his hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. Mr Lee wears an expression I haven’t seen before. He reminds me again of a panther, still and dangerous. I stifle a laugh because dangerous is not a word I associate with Mr Lee.
‘Welcome, welcome,’ Brother Zhu says, completely oblivious to the way Mr Lee’s gaze has gone flat and predatory. ‘Come, you must sit at my table tonight.’
We follow Brother Zhu across the room. Our progress is halting as he pauses for one yaojing or another as they greet him. Lord Cai, the God of Money, in poppy red silks with gold chains dangling from his box hat, claps Brother Zhu on the shoulder as we pass. A few steps later, Ji Gong the God of Healing greets Brother Zhu with an energetic fist palm salute that ripples his plain cotton water sleeves, and right on his heels is Zhu Rong, the God of Fire, sporting a bright turquoise tuxedo, his hair slicked back like Brother Zhu’s. He nods at us, his gaze lingering appreciatively on Gigi. I glance around. Most of the deities here are high-ranking ministers.
‘Shouldn’t they be at the Mahjong Council?’ I mutter to Gigi as yet another senior minister claps Brother Zhu on the back.
‘They like to sneak out between rounds,’ Gigi says. ‘You’ll probably see all of them here at some point tonight.’
I had no idea. Ma Zhu, Goddess of the Sea, floats towards us, her sheer azure dress rippling around her bare feet. She slips an arm through Brother Zhu’s and whispers something in his ear. Whatever he says in return makes her blush and giggle.
Mr Lee walks stiffly beside me, his face like thunder. I wonder what has gotten into him. Brother Zhu leads us to the last table on the far side of the dance floor – a circular booth with a great view of the band.
‘Please, make yourself at home. Order anything you like.’ He thumps himself on the chest. ‘Brother Zhu takes care of his own.’
Gigi slides onto the white leather seats, followed by Ah Lang. There’s an awkward moment when Mr Lee tries to slip in beside me, but Brother Zhu is quicker. Mr Lee has no choice but to sit on the other side, next to Ah Lang. He looks as angry as he did when Gigi almost strangled him. I glance quickly at Gigi in case she might have threatened Mr Lee like last time, but all her attention is on Brother Zhu. I dismiss Ah Lang as a threat. He’s too upright to torment mortals. I watch Brother Zhu who, of all of us, seems the most at ease. He casually stretches his arm along the back of the broad booth so that his arm rests against my shoulders. I shift so I’m not touching him. His scent – classic Celestial – is layered with an artificial odour, cologne Gigi called it. Many of the yaojing and even the mortals here seem to like it. It makes my nose itch.
‘How lucky are we to be in the company of the two most beautiful women in all of Shanghai?’ Brother Zhu says.
Ah Lang beams at Gigi who is still ignoring him, while Mr Lee glares at Brother Zhu. I try to get Mr Lee’s attention so I can signal for him to stop behaving so bizarrely but he won’t look my way. A waitress dressed in a slinky qipao brings us crystal flutes and a fat bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket. When she leaves, Brother Zhu leans forward.
‘It is really great to see you, Ah Lang. But—’ He glances around the table. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Well, uh, we—’ Ah Lang stammers.
‘Look, I’m no idiot. When Big Wang’s ward and the Jade Emperor’s daughter are here in Shanghai together, with you and a random mortal’ – he nods his head at Mr Lee – ‘no offense, it’s not a regular jaunt over to yang Shanghai.’
I clear my throat and lay my cards on the table. ‘We’re here on a private matter and wondered if you might help.’
A corner of Brother Zhu’s mouth quirks up. ‘It would make my day to help you, my beautiful plum blossom.’
Mr Lee makes a choking sound. He seems fine though, if a bit red.
‘Do you still courier the talismans from Turquoise Hills?’ I ask.
‘I do.’ He appraises me, then leans in close. I block his approach, my hand on his forehead to keep him from coming any closer. He chuckles, and takes my hand in his, raising it to his lips.
I try to snatch my hand away, but he’s prepared this time and holds me tight. ‘I won’t hurt you, my spring vision,’ he says and grazes the back of my hand with his nose.
‘The lady wants you to let go.’ Mr Lee almost snarls as he glowers at Brother Zhu.
Brother Zhu doesn’t let go of my hand, but he leans back, relaxed and unbothered by Mr Lee’s outburst. ‘You can calm down loverboy, I only wanted to know if Lady Jing smelled as good as she looks.’ I yank my hand from his grip, face burning. ‘And you do,’ he says gently. ‘Spicy and feisty, like Szechuan chillies and the sweetest mandarins.’ His eyes sparkle with mischief and I blink in surprise. No one has ever told me I smell nice. ‘I’m going to have the bartender make a special cocktail in your honour.’ He spreads his hands in the air. ‘The Lady Jing.’
Gigi leans forward, turns her back on Ah Lang. ‘What about me, I want a cocktail named after me too.’ She holds her hand out and Brother Zhu delicately sniffs her, at a more respectable distance since Ah Lang is watching, his doe eyes sad. ‘You, Ah Lang’s petal, smell of cinnamon and ginger and immortality peach. I’ll have the bartender make a new drink called Ah Lang’s Petal.’
Gigi pouts. ‘I want one named afterme. Not some no-good boyfriend.’
Ah Lang’s face falls, but Brother Zhu doesn’t miss a beat. ‘How about The Goddess Gi.’ This makes Gigi preen and wiggle with delight. He certainly knows how to please the ladies. He turns his attention back to me. ‘Why do you ask about the talismans?’
‘There was a switch. Mr Lee got a fake, not one made of yin silver. Was there anything strange or different about the batch of talismans that contained Mr Lee’s?’
‘Bad luck, old boy,’ Brother Zhu says to Mr Lee with a broad grin. ‘Lucky you kept your qi; I imagine the yaojing would enjoy snacking on you. You too smell quite delicious, you know.’ At that Brother Zhu flashes a smile so wolfish I want to hide Mr Lee from his gaze. Big Wang’s protective mark is no longer visible here in yang Shanghai.
‘I will carve out your tongue if you so much as lay a hand on him,’ I hiss. ‘Mr Lee is under Big Wang’s protection.’
At Big Wang’s mention, Brother Zhu glances at Mr Lee with an appraising light in his gaze. His smile slips for a second but snaps right back again. ‘Your wish is my command, my golden orchid. I would never do anything to upset such a treasure.’ His gaze sharpens on me. ‘So, you wish to know if the hulijing had anything to do with the swap, am I right?’
