Bullhead starts. ‘Aiya, it’s nearly dinner. How is it riru already? I need to head back, Lord Ma will be expecting me.’
Gigi says, ‘Jing, did you say Queen Mother of the West is here?
‘Yes – she was here this morning. I’m not sure if she’s still at the hotel.’
Gigi stands too, patting her hair and her clothes. ‘It’s been years since I last saw her – she never leaves Mount Kunlun. Baba would be angry if I missed the chance to pay my respects. Lord Nioh, I’ll come with you.’
Tony is the next to stand. ‘I should head back to the Cathay Hotel as well. I have matters to discuss with Yan Luo Wang regarding the Bank of Hell. I’ll see you tomorrow morning Jing, bright and early.’ He bows deeply to Old Zao. ‘Abundant gratitude for the meal, Zao Shen. Stay your noble steps.’
Bullhead and Gigi head out, but Tony hangs back. Old Zao busies themself in the kitchen, leaving Tony and me alone in the tearoom. Tony leans down, kisses me.
When he pulls away, it’s like he’s stolen all the air from my lungs.
‘Sleep well, my heart,’ he says, before leaving.
In the quiet of the tearoom, leaning against the window, I watch my Tony lope across the zigzag bridge with the grace of a panther, easily catching up to the others. Long after they all disappear from view, I’m still smiling and giggling to myself, giddy for our Paris trip and being able to spend all my days, maybe even all night, with my favourite person in the world.
Nine
Bon Voyage
The next morning, one of Big Wang’s Packards, an oversized black and chrome beast, idles in Fang Pang Road, one of the wider streets near Lake Heart Pavilion. The Packard would get stuck in the narrow streets if it tried to get closer.
Bullhead opens the back door. I’m about to climb in, but realise the back seat and the floor well is filled with suitcases. ‘You can sit in the front,’ he says, shoving my suitcase in a small gap near the roof.
‘What about Gigi and Ah Lang?’
‘Another car is taking them since Lady Gi needed more space for her luggage. Lord Ma and Big Wang are accompanying Tony and Lord Aengus. We’ll meet them there.’
We wind through the narrow lanes of the Old City, past the ornate the three-storey wooden townhouses favoured by senior ministers. Occasionally a bejewelled facade glitters in the blue shadows of early morning. The lanterns that light Gigi’s elegant home are doused, leaching the honeyed silkwood white. Finally we pass through the North Gate of the Old City, a quiet moment where time seems to stand still before we are thrust into Henan Road and its frenzy of banners and neon light.
Bullhead isn’t much of a talker so we sit for a while in companionable silence. The great stone buildings lining the Bund flash by, gleaming gold from electric lights.
The Immortal Express is already at the platform, gently steaming in the early morning gloom. Big Wang stands by the train chatting with Gigi and Tony. Ah Lang and Lord Aengus aredeep in conversation, while Horsey stands to the side, looking surprisingly relaxed. Bullhead gives my luggage to the porters carrying Gigi’s convoy of trunks into the train.
The lustre has returned to Lord Aengus’s blond hair. He inclines his almost completely restored head. ‘Beauteous Lady Jing, this humble one basks in your noble glory.’
I smile, pleased that he’s looking so much better. ‘You can move your head! Queen Mother of the West’s treatment really helped.’
‘This humble one is honoured beyond compare! To bask in the glory of the venerable Great Goddess, Queen Mother of the West herself!’ Lord Aengus’s blue eyes go dreamy. ‘She embodies the balance of the five virtues with perfect harmony.’
Horsey and I share a look. I hurriedly cut in to avoid Lord Aengus reciting another epic poem. If that happens, we’ll never get on the train. ‘Lord Aengus, I see you’ve met Tony and Ah Lang.’ I offer a fist-palm salute to Ah Lang. ‘Noble Ah Lang, it’s good to see you again.’
Ah Lang offers me a fist-palm salute in return, and a gentlemanly bow. ‘Lady Jing. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to visit yesterday. I promised Brother Zhu I would bring his gifts to Lord Yang first. We got to chatting and lost track of time. Contain my apologies.’ He hands me a small silk brocade box. ‘Brother Zhu bade me bring you this token of friendship.’
I rarely get presents, so Brother Zhu’s small gesture moves me more than I care to admit. With both hands I accept the box. The brocade is finely woven, a soft wisteria purple offset with silver. There’s a lump in my throat, and I stumble a little over my words. ‘Heartfelt gratitude for Brother Zhu’s thoughtfulness.’
‘Open it,’ Ah Lang says. ‘I promised to relay your reaction to Brother Zhu.’
I glance at Big Wang. Normally it’s considered rude to open a gift right away, but Big Wang nods.
‘If you insist,’ I say, excited to see what’s inside.
Nestled on a bed of purple silk is a jade bangle. Even in the low light it gleams, as if lit from within. Its colours are reminiscent of da bai cai, the humble cabbage: the luminous white of the leaf ribs and the crisp bright green of the tips. The bangle also carries rich seams of purple, in the same delicate shade as the brocade.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I whisper.
‘Brother Zhu will be so happy you like it,’ Ah Lang says.
