The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

Astrid had to resist rolling her eyes. This particular Mainland Chinese guard already knew her—how many times had she been here in the past few months? It made her understand how the Wus came to develop a particular reputation among Singapore’s establishment when Charlie’s father, Wu Hao Lian, first made his fortune in the early 1980s. The Wus did seem pretentious—there was no avoiding that fact.

At a time when the moneyed crowd preferred to populate elegant bungalows tucked away in the leafy enclaves of Districts 9, 10, and 11, Wu Hao Lian had bought a large parcel of land off one of Singapore’s busiest thoroughfares and built a sprawling family compound right there for all the world to see. He had erected a tall white stucco wall around the property, and at the top of the wall, sharp red-glazed tiles undulated up and down like the scaley curves on a dragon’s back, ending at the main gates with twin carved dragon heads in bronze. Rectangular gold plaques placed in niches at thirty-foot intervals around the wall were engraved in an ornate calligraphy script with the words:

To ordinary Singaporeans—the ninety percent who lived in public-housing apartments—it seemed like the Wus were the richest family in the land. The family was seen being driven around in a fleet of ever-changing Rolls-Royces, always accompanied by security guards in a Mercedes wherever they went. They were one of the first families on the island to flaunt their private jet, and spent all their holidays touring Europe, where Irene Wu and her daughters developed a voracious appetite for haute couture and haute jewelry. Whenever Irene appeared in public, she was always clad in the most ornately festooned frocks and laden with so much jewelry that all the other socialites nicknamed her “Christmas Tree” behind her back.

But all this was so long ago, Astrid thought as the tall steel gate embossed with the ornate W seal began to slide to one side and she sped up the short driveway to the Palladian-style house with a white columned portico covered in bougainvillea. The Wus had receded into the background, especially after Charlie’s father passed away and a new generation of brash billionaires burst onto the scene in the early 2000s, building even more ostentatious pleasure domes and vying for visibility in the society pages. Only Charlie’s mother remained in Singapore these days, reluctant to give up her house.

Astrid pulled up behind a gray Mercedes SUV already parked underneath the portico. She saw Lincoln Tay, her distant cousin, emerge from the driver’s seat and walk around to the trunk of the car. “Ah Tock! Fancy seeing you here,” Astrid said as she got out of her car.

“What can I tell you? You’re always hanging around the rich and famous, and I just work for them,” he joked. “Now Astrid, tell me why are you still driving that old Acura? Does it even pass inspection anymore?”

“This is the most reliable car I’ve ever owned. I’m going to drive it until I’m forced to scrap it.”

“Come on lah, you are so loaded, at the very least you should upgrade to the ILX. Or maybe Charlie can buy Acura the company for you and have them design you a car from scratch.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Astrid said. It occurred to her that every time she saw this distant cousin, he would make some sort of r

eference to her money.

“Hey, come and see something very special,” Ah Tock said, as he opened the trunk of the SUV. A large Igloo cooler was strapped to one side of the spacious rear, and Ah Tock carefully lifted out a large plastic bag that had been inflated with oxygen. Inside was a dragon-like fish about two feet in length.

“Oh, it’s an arowana,” Astrid said.

“Not just any arowana. This is Valentino, Mrs. Wu’s prized super red arowana. It was worth at least $175,000 and now it will be worth $250,000, minimum.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just took Valentino to his plastic surgeon. He was beginning to develop a droopy eye, so we gave him an eye lift. And he even got a very slight chin job. See how handsome he looks now?”

“There’s a plastic surgeon for fish?” Astrid asked incredulously.

“The best in the world, right here in Singapore! He specializes in arowanas.”*1

Before Astrid could properly soak in this fabulous bit of trivia, the front door opened and Irene Wu came running out. A round-faced woman in her early seventies, she was dressed in a bright orange Moroccan-style tunic top embroidered with tiny mirrored glass pieces and sequins, white capri pants, and fluffy white bedroom slippers embroidered with the Four Seasons Hotel logo. On her fingers sparkled an emerald ring; another ring consisting of three interlaced bands of diamonds set in white, yellow, and rose gold; and a pear-cut diamond ring that was nearly as big as the real fruit itself.

“How is he? How’s my baby Valentino?” Irene asked breathlessly, rushing toward Ah Tock and the plastic bag.

“Mrs. Wu, he’s doing very well. The surgery was a success, but he’s still a bit sluggish at the moment from being drugged. Let’s get him acclimated back in his tank.”

“Yes, yes! Aiyah, Astrid, I didn’t even see you. Come in, come in. Sorry-ah, I am so kan jyeong*2 today because of Valentino’s procedure. My goodness, don’t you look lovely. Who are you wearing today?” Irene asked, admiring Astrid’s floral kimono-inspired wrap dress.

“Oh, this is a dress that Romeo Gigli made for me years ago, Auntie Irene,” Astrid said, leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek.

“Of course it is. So pretty! And don’t you think it’s high time you started calling me Mama instead of Auntie Irene?”

“Come on, Mum, lay off Astrid!” Charlie said, standing at the front door. Astrid beamed at the sight of him and rushed up the steps to give him a tight hug.

“Aiyah, I’m going to tear up and ruin my mascara. Look at my two lovebirds!” Irene sighed happily.

As the group entered the house, Charlie steered Astrid towards the sweeping Gone with the Wind–style double staircase instead of the living room.

“Where are you two going?” Irene asked.

“I’m just taking her upstairs for a little while, Mum,” Charlie said in a slightly exasperated tone.

“But Gracie has spent all day making so many types of nyonya kueh. You must come and have tea and nyonya kueh with me in a little while, okay?”

“Of course we will,” Astrid said.