The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

Mrs. Bing sighed dramatically. “Hiyah, you don’t know my latest suffering.” She took off her sunglasses and revealed puffy, swollen eyes. “I can’t open my eyes properly anymore. See, see? I think I have this very rare disease called mayo…mayonnaise gravies.”

“Oh, you mean myasthenia gravis,” Rachel offered.

“Yes, yes! You know it!” Mrs. Bing said excitedly. “It affects the muscles around your eyes.”

Rachel nodded sympathetically. “I’ve heard it can be very debilitating, Mrs. Bing.”

“Please, call me Lai Di,” Colette’s mother said, warming up to Rachel.

“You do not have mayonnaise gravy, or whatever you call it, Mother. Your eyes are all swollen because you sleep too much. Anyone would look like that if they slept fourteen hours a day,” Colette said disdainfully.

“I have to sleep fourteen hours a day because of my chronic fatigue syndrome.”

“Another disease you do not have, Mother. Chronic fatigue syndrome does not make you sleepy,” Colette said.

“Well, I’m going to see a specialist for mayonnaise-athena gravies next week in Singapore.”

Colette rolled her eyes and explained to Rachel and Nick, “My mother keeps ninety percent of all the doctors in Asia employed.”

“Well, she’s probably seen quite a few of my relatives, then,” Nick quipped.

Mrs. Bing perked up. “Who are your doctor relatives?”

“Let’s see…the one you might know is my uncle Dickie—Richard T’sien, he’s a GP who has many society clients. No? Then there’s his brother Mark T’sien, an ophthalmologist; my cousin Charles Shang, a hematologist; my other cousin Peter Leong, a neurologist.”

Mrs. Bing gasped. “Dr. Leong? Who shares a clinic in K.L. with his wife, Gladys?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“Aiyah! Small world—I went to see him when I thought I had a brain tumor. And then I went to see Gladys for a second opinion.”

Mrs. Bing began rattling away excitedly to her husband in a Chinese dialect that Nick couldn’t recognize. Jack, who had been listening to Richie describe the special off-road vehicle he was designing with Ferrari, immediately circled back to Nick. “Peter Leong is your cousin. So Harry Leong must be your uncle?”

“Yes, he is.” Now he thinks I’m a Leong. My market value is rebounding again.

Jack eyed Nick with renewed interest. My God, this boy is one of the Leong Palm Oil people! Ranked number three on The Heron Wealth Report’s list of richest families in Asia! No wonder he can afford to be a teacher! “Is your mother a Leong?” Jack asked excitedly.

“No, she’s not. Harry Leong married my father’s sister.”

“I see,” Jack said. Hmm. Family name Young. Never heard of them. This kid must come from the poor side of the family.

Mrs. Bing leaned toward Nick. “What other doctors are in your family?”

“Er…do you know Dr. Malcolm Cheng, the Hong Kong cardiologist?”

“Oh my God! Another one of my doctors!” Mrs. Bing said excitedly. “I went to see him for my irregular heartbeat. I thought maybe I had micro-valve relapse, but it turned out I just needed to drink less Starbucks.”

Richie, who was getting increasingly bored of all the doctor talk, turned to Colette. “When’s dinner?”

“It’s almost ready. My Cantonese chef is making her famous parchment chicken with white truffles.”*1

“Yum!”

“And as a special treat, I’ve also asked my French chef to make your favorite Grand Marnier soufflé for dessert,” Colette added.

“You sure know the way to a man’s heart, don’t you?”

“Only certain men,” Colette said, lifting one eyebrow.