The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

Goh Developments had been building a new complex of semidetached houses along Dunearn Road, and Dr. Gu’s little plot of land was the sole obstruction to the project getting under way. His neighbors had been bought out under extremely favorable terms, but Dr. Gu refused to budge. After all of his lawyers had failed in their negotiations, Wye Mun drove to the house himself, armed with his checkbook and determined to talk some sense into the old fart. Instead, the brilliant old curmudgeon convinced him to alter his entire scheme, and the revised development turned out to be even more of a success because of his recommendations. Wye Mun now found himself visiting his new friend to offer him a job. Dr. Gu refused, but Wye Mun would keep coming back, enthralled by Dr. Gu’s encyclopedic knowledge of Singapore history, his acute analysis of the financial markets, and his wonderful Longjing tea.

Wye Mun and Peik Lin drove over to Dr. Gu’s house, parking Wye Mun’s shiny new Maserati Quattroporte just outside the rust-corroded metal gate.

“I can’t believe he still lives here,” Peik Lin said, as they walked down the cracked cement driveway. “Shouldn’t he be in a retirement home by now?”

“I think he manages okay. He has a maid, and also two daughters, you know,” Wye Mun said.

“He was smart not to sell out to you thirty years ago. This little piece of land is worth even more of a fortune now. It’s the last undeveloped plot on Dunearn Road, we can probably even build a very sleek, narrow apartment tower here,” Peik Lin commented.

“I tell you lah, he intends to die in this shack. Did I tell you what I heard from my stockbroker Mr. Oei many years ago? Dr. Gu is sitting on one million shares of HSBC.”

“What?” Peik Lin turned to her father in amazed shock. “One million shares? That’s more than fifty million in today’s dollars!”

“He started buying HSBC shares in the forties. I heard this tidbit twenty years ago, and the stock has split how many times since then? I tell you, old Dr. Gu is worth hundreds of millions by now.”

Peik Lin stared with renewed wonder as the man with a shock of unruly white hair came hobbling out onto his porch in a brown polyester short-sleeve shirt that looked like it had been tailored in pre-Castro Havana and a pair of dark green pajama bottoms. “Goh Wye Mun! Still wasting money on expensive cars, I see,” he bellowed, his voice surprisingly robust for a man of his age.

“Greetings, Dr. Gu! Do you remember my daughter, Peik Lin?” Wye Mun said, patting the old man on the back.

“Aiyah, is this your daughter? I thought this pretty girl must surely be your latest mistress. I know how all you property tycoons are.”

Peik Lin laughed. “Hello, Dr. Gu. My father wouldn’t be standing here if I was his mistress. My mum would castrate him!”

“Oh, but I thought she did that a long time ago already.” Everyone laughed, as Dr. Gu led them to a few wooden chairs arranged in his small front garden. Peik Lin noticed that the grass was meticulously mowed and edged. The fence that fronted Dunearn Road was covered in thick intertwining vines of morning glories, screening the bucolic little patch from the traffic along the busy thoroughfare. There isn’t a single place like this left along this entire stretch, Peik Lin thought.

An elderly Chinese servant came out of the house with a large round wooden tray. On it was a ceramic teapot, an old copper kettle, three clay teacups, and three smaller snifter cups. Dr. Gu held the well-burnished kettle high above the teapot and began pouring. “I love watching Dr. Gu do his tea ritual,” Wye Mun said to his daughter quietly. “See how he pours the water from high up. This is known as xuan hu gao chong—‘rinsing from an elevated pot.’ ” Then, Dr. Gu began to pour the tea into each of the three cups, but instead of offering it to his guests, he flung the light caramel-colored tea dramatically from each cup onto the grass behind him, much to Peik Lin’s surprise. He then refilled the teapot with a fresh batch of hot water.

“See, Peik Lin, that was the first rinse of the leaves, known as hang yun liu shui—‘a row of clouds, running water.’ This second pouring from a lower height is called zai zhu qing xuan—‘direct again the pure spring,’ ” Wye Mun continued.

“Wye Mun, she could probably care less about these old proverbs,” Dr. Gu said, before launching into a clinically precise explanation. “The first pouring was done from a height so that the force of water rinses the Longjing leaves. The hot water also helps to acclimate the temperature of the teapot and the cups. Then you do a second pouring, this time slowly and near the mouth of the pot, to gently coax the flavor out of the leaves. Now we let it steep for a while.”

The sound of screeching truck brakes just beyond the fence interrupted the serenity of Dr. Gu’s tea ritual. “Doesn’t all this noise bother you?” Peik Lin asked.

“Not at all. It reminds me that I am still alive, and that my hearing is not deteriorating as quickly as I had planned,” Dr. Gu replied. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to hear all the nonsense that comes out of politicians’ mouths!”

“Come on, lah, Dr. Gu, if it weren’t for our politicians, do you think you would be able to enjoy this nice garden of yours? Think of how they’ve transformed this place from a backward island to one of the most prosperous countries in the world,” Wye Mun argued, always on the defensive whenever anyone criticized the government.

“What rubbish! Prosperity is nothing but an illusion. Do you know what my children are doing with all this prosperity? My eldest daughter started a dolphin research institute. She is determined to rescue the white dolphins of the Yangtze River from extinction. Do you know how polluted that river is? This bloody mammal is already extinct! Scientists haven’t been able to locate a single one of these creatures for years now, but she is determined to find them. And my other daughter? She buys old castles in Scotland. Not even the Scottish want those crumbling old pits, but my daughter does. She spends millions restoring them, and then no one comes to visit her. Her wastrel son, my only grandson and namesake, is thirty-six years old. Do you want to know what he does?”

“No … I mean, yes,” Peik Lin said, trying not to giggle.

“He has a rock-and-roll band in London. Not even like those Beatles, who at least made money. This one has long oily hair, wears black eyeliner, and makes horrible noises with home appliances.”

“Well, at least they are being creative,” Peik Lin offered politely.

“Creatively wasting all my hard-earned money! I’m telling you, this so-called ‘prosperity’ is going to be the downfall of Asia. Each new generation becomes lazier than the next. They think they can make overnight fortunes just by flipping properties and getting hot tips in the stock market. Ha! Nothing lasts forever, and when this boom ends, these youngsters won’t know what hit them.”

“This is why I force my kids to work for a living—they are not going to get a single cent out of me until I am six feet underground,” Wye Mun said, winking at his daughter.

Dr. Gu peeked into the teapot, finally satisfied with the brew. He poured the tea into the snifter cups. “Now this is called long feng cheng xiang, which means ‘the dragon and phoenix foretells good fortune,’ ” he said, placing a teacup over the smaller snifter cup and inverting the cups deftly, releasing the tea into the drinking cup. He presented the first cup to Wye Mun, and the second cup to Peik Lin. She thanked him and took her first sip. The tea was bracingly bitter, and she tried not to make a face while swallowing it.

“So, Wye Mun, what really brings you here today? Surely you didn’t come to hear an old man rant.” Dr. Gu eyed Peik Lin. “Your father is very cunning, you know. He only comes calling when he needs to get something out of me.”

“Dr. Gu, your roots go deep in Singapore. Tell me, have you ever heard of James Young?” Wye Mun asked, cutting to the chase.

Dr. Gu looked up from pouring his own tea with a start. “James Young! I haven’t heard anyone utter that name in decades.”

“Do you know him, then? I met his grandson recently. He’s dating a good friend of mine,” Peik Lin explained. She took another sip of the tea, finding herself appreciating its silky bitterness more and more with each sip.