‘Ah, there you are.’ Another mirror of Lord Black joins us.
My eyebrows rise of their own accord. Three of the four dragon kings attending the Mahjong Council is an unprecedented honour. The third dragon uncle, either Lord Bai or Lord Chun, has the same face, same aquiline nose as the other two, but that’s where the resemblance ends. Slicked-back hair and a sharp widow’s peak gives this dragon uncle a severe air. He carries himself with the utmost status and authority that, were I the type to care about such things, I’d probably be cowed. While most Celestials love nothing more than to preen and show off, during Council they dress with great care: fancy enough not to dishonour their ministry, but never so fancy as to eclipse other ministers, especially those of higher rank.
This dragon king has no qualms about that. He wears ceremonial silk robes so resplendent we rarely see their like during Council. The heavy gold brocade robe sports a triple-layered jiaoling cross-collar – an inner robe of palest gold, a contrasting bronze middle robe, and the wide outer lapel is a pale gold silk edged in bronze and embroidered with a moon-silver dragon.
‘Lord Bai,’ Lord Aengus whispers, and immediately folds again in two. ‘Ten thousand years of good health to the mighty and esteemed Lord Bai, Dragon King of the West!’
I hurriedly offer my greetings, my gaze sliding to Lord Aengus. How did he know?
‘Jun,’ Lord Black says, ‘perfect timing as always. You can be our fourth.’
Lord Bai casts a haughty glance at the table and sucks his teeth. ‘Surely it would be more congenial to discuss the fishing quotas over tea. I have some wonderful Da Hong Pao from one of the mother trees.’
‘We can have tea anytime, whereas we so rarely play. Why, it must be at least a hundred years since we were at a mahjong table together!’ Lord Vermilion flips a mahjong tile around his fingers.
There’s something in the studied casualness of his movements, and the way he and Lord Black aren’t looking at each other that makes me feel like they’re setting Lord Bai up.
‘I hear Lady Jing is a formidable player,’ Lord Vermilion continues.
‘Is that so?’ Lord Bai eyes me dispassionately as he twists a thick jade ring on his thumb. The ring is a startling cyan blue, one of the rarest of jade colours, with swirls of jet, vermilion and translucent ice white. After a moment, he sweeps his outer robe behind him. The silk billows on an unseen wind and he gracefully lowers himself to his seat. ‘So you are the infamous Lady Jing, the one with Meimei’s dragon pearl. What mafan that gift has caused. Would that she never got it into her head to gift it in the first place.’
‘It is not for us to question the Way of the Cosmos, Jun,’ Lord Black says.
Lord Bai rolls his eyes. ‘If not us, then who? Not everything should be accepted without question.’
‘You may question what you wish, Elder Brother,’ – Lord Vermilion waves a frayed yellow sleeve – ‘but that will notstop others from doing what they wish. That is the Way of the Cosmos.’
Lord Bai juts his chin, pouting. ‘You’re such a pig-dog, Qin. You always side with Ming.’
This childish asshole side to Lord Bai makes me like him a lot more. I duck my head to hide my smirk and focus on washing the mahjong tiles in preparation for play. The tilestinkandclinkas I move them in circles beneath my hands.
A small smile plays at the corners of Lord Black’s lips. ‘Nothing to say, noble Lady Jing?’ he asks.
‘I am embracing the Cosmos, as you so wisely taught me.’
Lord Black chuckles but says no more. Thank Tian. With the three dragon uncles together, I won’t have a better opportunity to ask about my dragon pearl. If they don’t know how to fix it, no one will. Still, I hesitate. Lying isn’t an option, not with creatures rumoured to be older than the Cosmos who possibly can read minds. But I also am loath to admit the reason it doesn’t work the way it should is probably because I used the dragon pearl in a last-ditch attempt to win at marbles. In my defence, I’d had five bottles of baiju and countless cocktails before that. It wasn’t one of my better life choices.
The attendant returns with two bottles of Maotai and five jade cups filled with the clear liquor. I down mine immediately, needing to dull the edge of anxiety and embarrassment as I wait for an opening to discuss the dragon pearl.
We draw tiles, forming them into tidy walls. Lord Aengus stands slightly behind me. I organise my tiles into pairs and triplets, pleased to see Lady Fortune smiling on me today. Lord Aengus thinks so too, as he makes an appreciative sound. I bite my tongue so I don’t yell at him and trigger another ridiculous round of kowtowing.
After I’ve counted to ten three times, I say, ‘Lord Aengus, let me teach you the cardinal rule of mahjong.’
He gasps in delight. I take a deep breath and grip the smile on my face so it doesn’t run away. Lord Black makes a noise that is very close to a snigger.
‘The most important skill is a strong mahjong face. Every good player has one, and uses it to keep their tells well hidden. Excitement, joy, disappointment, fear – your mahjong face must keep your opponents from learning what is in your heart and your hand.’
Lord Aengus nods, oohing and ahhing. He assesses the dragon uncles as if in a new light. ‘Benevolent Lady Jing! I have opened my ears and received your wisdom,’ he says, bright blue eyes shining with such earnestness I want to poke them out.
‘Don’t let me know when you’re thankful or if you’re interested in something. Don’t comment on other people’s hands. Still and silent, okay?’
The envoy nods.
Lord Black’s cheeks quiver. ‘Brother Yang, Lady Jing gives excellent advice,’ he says. ‘Her mahjong face is second to none. Well, perhaps only to our esteemed Yan Luo Wang. You are fortunate indeed to receive her gems of wisdom. They are rarer than a dragon pearl.’
This is my opening. Keeping my tone light and casual, I say, ‘Speaking of dragon pearls, do they ever break down or need special maintenance?’
Lord Bai sucks his teeth. ‘Dragon pearls cannot be broken, little fox.’
