Chapter 40 #2
He tilts his head at my expression, frowning, and I plaster on a smile and bow my greeting before hurrying away, heading towards the far end of the Bund where a distinctive copper roof glows against the black velvet sky.
I stop and stare. Maybe it’s the stress, the effects of travel, maybe I’m just tired, but suddenly, I am in stitches.
Laughter pours from me in torrents. I gasp and whoop and snort, bent double because I can’t catch my breath.
Ghosts and yaojing side-eye me, some of them cross the street, others adjust course to give me wide berth.
For as long as I can remember, Big Wang has had to listen to me whine about yin Shanghai’s lack of stars.
Yet, only when I’m about to leave yin Shanghai do I finally notice that the Bund has its very own star.
No matter where I am in the city, the copper roof of the Cathay Hotel has always been my lodestar, guiding me wherever I need to go.
Head back, eyes closed, the sounds and smells of the city flow over me – from the lively music of the dancing halls, the high-pitched voices of Yueju opera singers, the clicking of mahjong tiles from the gambling dens, the street food hawkers with their steamed bao, stinky tofu, candied haw, to the ever present briny stench of the Whangpoo River.
A chaotic cacophony; my chaotic cacophony.
I make my way to the penthouse of the Cathay Hotel and head directly to Big Wang’s study, where I find him seated at the low table, teapots and cups at the ready.
‘Looks like you were expecting me,’ I say as I join him.
‘Mmmgh.’ He pours tea in a wenxiang cup, tops it with an upside-down pinmin cup and puts them on the table.
I flip the cups and lift the wenxiang cup to my nose, taking the time to savour the aroma. Another aged pu-erh, judging from the colour. The scent is multilayered: floral notes of honeysuckle and orchid, with hints of ripe persimmon and caramel. ‘This is nice.’
Big Wang nods. ‘It’s a pu-erh tea from the year you were born.’
‘Really?’ The deep amber tea shimmers in my cup as I swirl it, holding it at an angle to appreciate its rich colour. ‘How come we’ve never had it before?’
‘I have it every year.’
Making a face, I say, ‘Wow, thanks for sharing.’
He ignores my dig. ‘It was a gift from Lady Longnu when I adopted you. She told me to drink some every year. It would help me understand. What I was meant to understand, she wouldn’t say.
’ He shrugs. ‘As you well know, one does not demand answers of a dragon king. So all I could do was brew myself a pot every year and drink it.’
He takes the pinmin cup, and sips. I do the same.
My eyes widen. The flavour is complex and deep, lingering on my tongue with a wonderful mellow sweetness.
Under the floral notes and jammy fruit, there’s a nutty creaminess, not unlike a French macaron.
A touch of bitterness balances the whole and gives it extra depth.
‘This tastes amazing. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, Big Wang.’
He laughs. ‘The first time I brewed this tea, I thought Lady Longnu was playing a mean joke. The tea was so astringent, it was like eating an unripe persimmon. It stripped all the moisture from my mouth. Highly unpleasant.’
‘Gross,’ I say. ‘But the next year, surely the tea got better.’
Big Wang shakes his head. ‘It was just as disgusting the following year.’
I frown at my empty cup. ‘I wasn’t imagining the taste, was I? It was delicious, right?’
He too peers into his cup, nodding. ‘It took quite a few years before I figured out what she wanted me to understand.’
‘Okay, if you’re going to have conversations by yourself, I’ll come back later.’ I pretend to stand.
Big Wang calls my bluff. He tops up my tea. ‘After you tell me about Tony, I’ll tell you what Lady Longnu meant.’
He listens to the same prepared lines I recited for Old Zao, the red glint in his eyes growing more intense with every sentence. When I finish, he and I sit in silence.
‘Did he really say he didn’t want to be vampire?’ Big Wang asks gently.
I nod and whisper the words that haunt me every day, ‘He said, “I find them deeply abhorrent. I never want to be one of them.” ’
‘Mmmgh,’ he says. ‘I can tell he’s hurting. Give him time to adjust. But after that, if he still behaves like a lout, I will personally send him to the lower levels of Hell.’
‘He’ll come around, I’m sure.’ Though I’m not sure at all, I pretend for Tony’s sake.
When I was fourteen, I hit a rough patch and went off the rails.
I had no respect for anyone, much less myself, and took great pleasure in being destructive.
No threat or punishment had any effect. In desperation, Horsey hauled me off for a visit to the lower levels of Hell, a place where the wicked were forced to relive the pain they inflicted on others, over and over again.
I think Horsey only meant to frighten me a little.
But I came back and was catatonic for a week.
Big Wang was livid, forbade Horsey to ever take me down there again.
It was truly an unspeakable place I wouldn’t wish on anyone, not even the demon hunter who killed my parents.
Thankfully, Big Wang changes the subject. ‘I was surprised to hear from Zhong Kui, the Minister of Rites, that Lord Aengus was returning for another visit so soon after his last.’
‘He bumped into the Dagda in Paris while he was recovering. Apparently, the Dagda doesn’t like him to travel, and now he knows that Lord Aengus was ill, Lord Aengus was afraid his father would forbid him to travel anymore. So he ran.’
Big Wang lets out a long sigh as he brews us a fresh pot of pu-erh tea. ‘Sometimes the only way to learn how to get up, is to fall down. I don’t envy the Dagda. He was a broken man for many years after he lost three sons at once.’
‘Tony’s staying with Lord Aengus, I assume?’
A nod. ‘He seems to be on good terms with the Durands, despite what he said about vampires.’ He holds up the pinmin cup. ‘What do you think this tea has helped me understand?’
I don’t bother to question Big Wang’s dizzying conversation style; it’s easier to roll with it. ‘That you should trust Lady Longnu.’
He gives me a look that says, Try again.
‘I guess the tea changes as it ages? It started out astringent and unpleasant but mellowed into something complex.’
‘Mmmgh. Very good, Little Jing. When you were young, I often wasn’t sure of the choices I made, whether I was helping or hurting you. During’ – he sucks his teeth – ‘let’s call it your Angry Era—’
‘Basically the last ninety years, give or take?’ I quip, and earn myself a rare smile from Big Wang.
‘Thereabouts,’ he agrees. ‘During that time, you were highly unpleasant. Much like the first four years of this tea.’
‘Rude,’ I mutter under my breath.
Big Wang raises an eyebrow. ‘Year by year, the tea slowly revealed itself. Its layers, its sweetness and bitterness, its colour, changing with time. Just as you did. The tea taught me patience; that initial astringency bloomed into a sweet complexity. You were the same.’
It’s a nice metaphor, apart from the initial mouth-puckering astringency. He hands me a small cloisonné jar; inlaid on the front is a nine-tailed fox.
I take it reverently. ‘Is this . . .’
‘It is. The same pu-erh tea, but harvested this year.’
The smile drops from my face. ‘But, didn’t you say for the first however many years, the tea was disgusting and undrinkable?’
He nods happily.
‘Can’t I have some of the delicious aged stuff?’
‘I know things are hard between you and Tony, but I can tell he still cares for you, even if right now his anger leaves no room for anything else. Brew this tea once a year, it will help you understand as it helped me.’
The jar is heavy; enough to brew the tea for decades, if not centuries. ‘Thank you, Big Wang.’
‘About Yunnan . . .’
With everything that happened, I haven’t had the energy to think about my father. But now, facing the very real possibility we may find him . . . a small part of me has started to hope.
‘The Durands will go with you, as will Lord Aengus and Tony.’
‘They’re coming, too?’
Big Wang’s mouth presses into a grim line and his eyes glow red.
‘Tony made me a promise and I expect him to fulfil it.’ The angry light in his eyes fades as he says, ‘Lord Ma was about to have a breakdown at the thought of hosting Lord Aengus again; since he and Tony get on so well, I thought Lord Aengus could join the delegation. You don’t mind, do you? ’
I shake my head, glad Tony will have a friend to keep him company.
Clearing his throat, he says, ‘I’ve been in touch with Lord Black; he will meet you in Turquoise Hills and accompany you to Niang Niang. I have a hunch she knows where to find the shrine.’