The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

Looking through the crowd, Araminta asked Colin, “Do you see your cousin Astrid anywhere?”

“I saw her brothers, but I haven’t spotted her yet,” Colin answered.

“Let me know the minute you spot her—I need to know what she’s wearing tonight!”

“I spy Astrid disembarking from the third ferry,” Colin reported.

“Alamak, she’s wearing a cheongsam! Why didn’t she wear one of her fabulous couture creations?” Araminta sighed.

“I think she looks lovely, and that cheongsam was probably handmade—”

“But I was waiting to see what designer she would turn up in! I go to all this trouble, and she doesn’t even bother to make the effort. What’s the whole fucking point of this wedding?” Araminta moaned.

When the last boatload of guests had disembarked, the illuminated crystalline façade of the banquet hall suddenly morphed into an intense shade of fuschia. Haunting New Age music boomed from the surrounding forest, and the trees were bathed in golden light. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, golden cords descended from the thick foliage. Wrapped cocoon-like in these cords were acrobats with bodies that had been painted gold. “Oh my goodness—I think it’s Cirque du Soleil!” the guests began murmuring excitedly. As the acrobats started to unfurl and spin around the cords as effortlessly as lemurs, the crowd broke into rapturous applause.

Kitty jumped up and down like a hyperactive child.

“You seem to be having a good time,” Oliver said, sidling up next to her and noticing that her breasts didn’t seem to jiggle naturally inside that lacey turquoise gown. He also noticed that she had a thin sheen of body glitter on. Bad combo, he thought.

“I love Cirque du Soleil! I’ve gone to every single one of their performances in Hong Kong. Now, I must have these acrobats at my wedding too.”

“My goodness, that will be costly,” Oliver said in exaggerated awe.

“Oh, Alistair can handle it,” Kitty replied breezily.

“You think so? I didn’t realize Alistair was doing that well in the movie business.”

“Hiyah, don’t you think his parents will pay for the wedding?” Kitty said as she stared at the gold-painted acrobats while they began to form a human arch.

“Are you kidding me?” Oliver lowered his voice, continuing, “Do you have any idea how cheap his mother is?”

“She is?”

“Haven’t you been to that flat of theirs on Robinson Road?”

“Er … no. I was never invited.”

“That’s probably because Alistair was too embarrassed to show it to you. It’s a very basic three-bedroom flat. Alistair had to share a bedroom with his brother until he went to college. I went to visit in 1991, and there were these yellow floral bath mats in the toilet. And when I went again last month, the yellow floral bath mats were still there, except that they are grayish floral now.”

“Really?” Kitty said in disbelief.

“Well, look at his mother. You think she wears those old eighties dresses on purpose? She wears them to save money.”

“But I thought Alistair’s father is a famous heart doctor?” Kitty was confused.

Oliver paused. Thank God she didn’t seem to know about the Chengs’ massive real estate holdings. “Do you have any idea how much malpractice insurance costs these days? Doctors don’t make as much money as you think. Do you know how much it costs to send three children to study overseas? Eddie went to Cambridge, Cecilia went to UBC,‡ and Alistair—well, you know how long Alistair took to graduate from Sydney University. The Chengs spent most of their savings on their children’s education.”

“I had no idea.”

“And you know how Malcolm is. He’s a traditional Cantonese man—what remaining money he has will all go to his eldest son.”

Kitty went quiet, and Oliver prayed he hadn’t laid it on too thick.

“But of course, I know none of that is important to you,” he added. “You’re in love, and you don’t really need Cirque du Soleil performing at your wedding, do you? I mean, you’ll get to stare at that cute puppy-dog face of Alistair’s every morning for the rest of your life. That’s worth all the money in the world, isn’t it?”

* * *

* The custom at Chinese weddings is for guests to contribute a cash gift meant to help defray the cost of the lavish banquet, and it is usually the task of some unfortunate second cousin to collect and keep track of all these cash-stuffed envelopes.