The music makes me feel reckless, and I venture one more question, one I would never normally ask. ‘Do vampires ever come to Shanghai?’
A hard glint flashes in Brother’s Zhu’s eyes, quick as a firefly, and it’s gone again. ‘Not for a long time, my fragrant blossom. There was a diplomatic incident.’
The music ends just as I am about to ask what happened. Brother Zhu grins at me. ‘Time’s up, beautiful.’ He leads me back to our table where Mr Lee is nursing an empty champagne flute, still wearing that pinched bao face.
Most of Brother Zhu’s info was steamed dog-fart in my opinion – especially the titbit that dragon pearls supposedly can never be bought or sold. Even so, I’m not too annoyed. For introducing me to the joy of dancing, I won’t carve out his tongue. The music starts up again and I feel like there’s an invisible cord pulling me back to the dance floor. My cheeks are sore from smiling.
‘Dance with me, Mr Lee. It’s so fun.’
Mr Lee swirls the champagne in his flute, not looking at me. ‘You seemed to be enjoying yourself.’
‘It’s my first time. I’ve never heard music like this. Brother Zhu called itswing.’
Mr Lee crosses his arms and legs. ‘I’m sure Brother Zhu would know.’
His tone is all off. I sit down, peer at him. ‘If you’re not feeling well, let’s head back to the hotel.’
The dance floor calls me, but it doesn’t feel right to have fun when Mr Lee seems so unhappy. I nudge him with my shoulder. ‘The concierge told me they get their xiao long bao from a lady on the Bund. We can see if she’s there, get a midnight snack and watch the sunrise from my hotel room.’ I smile, trying in some small way to return his many kindnesses to me.
He stares intently at me, then bows his head. When he looks at me again, that hard edge is gone. ‘No, I’m just— Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I think I would like to dance with you.’
I smile. ‘Really?’
He nods; I grab his hand and drag him to the dance floor.
‘You liked swing that much?’ he asks.
‘Shut up and dance with me.’ I wrap his arm around my waist, then hop from one foot to the other, finding the beat. He shakes his head, the sour expression eclipsed by a bright dimpled smile. ‘Here, follow my lead. It’s not about jumping, it’s more about stepping. Watch.’
He shows me the steps, and I move in time with his counting. We dance until my feet are sore and then dance some more. Ah Lang and Gigi stand there the whole time just staring into each other’s eyes. Mr Lee and I spin around them, crowding and leaning into them, trying to force a reaction and then spinning out of reach whenever Gigi tries to slap us. At some point, Brother Zhu brings a tray of Lady Jings, and we take a break to try them.
They taste like a combination of oranges and limes – Brother Zhu says it’s from a citrus fruit called calamansi, and there’s a fiery kick from the chillies.
‘I smell like this?’ I ask, not daring to believe.
‘Yep,’ Brother Zhu says, leaning close. ‘Intoxicating and addictive. Even better than the mortal.’
I giggle, inordinately pleased that I don’t stink like a corpse. He promises to let me know tomorrow who made and packed the talisman and I feel much friendlier towards him than before.
Mr Lee refuses to dance with me after our break, claiming fatigue, so I dance with Brother Zhu until Gigi drags me away saying it’s time to head home.
Twenty-One
Rain, Rain, Go Away
We tumble out of the Paramount in the wee hours, feet sore, hearts still dancing to the music. The muggy air wraps around us. I gaze up – no stars to be seen, but it doesn’t matter. The dancing and the music were stars enough for me tonight. I touch my hair pin, feeling like I’m sparkling from the inside out. We stand under the neon awning and it slowly dawns on me that the streets are deserted. My Shanghai is never this quiet. There’s always ghosts or yaojing about. But here, the tram line in front of the ballroom is silent. The three-storey red brick building opposite is completely dark. There are no taxis or rickshaws to be had.
‘We could walk back,’ Ah Lang says.
Gigi looks at her feet. ‘Only if you carry me. There is no way I am walking.’
I wriggle my toes in the borrowed shoes. Away from the dance floor, my feet are starting to complain. I shake my head. ‘I don’t think I’ll make it back if I have to walk.’
The men glance at each other – but they are saved by movement at the end of the road.
‘There’s a rickshaw!’ Ah Lang sprints away and manages to catch the coolie’s attention. This rickshaw is one of the more modern ones, pulled by a bicycle.
‘You and petal take the rickshaw. Mr Lee and I will get the next one,’ Ah Lang offers as the rickshaw driver pedals towards us. Mr Lee nods, but Gigi makes meaningful eyes at me.
