4

RIVERSIDE VICTORY TOWERS

SHANGHAI

For many Shanghainese who had been born in Puxi—the historic city center—the glittering new metropolis on the other side of the river called Pudong would never be part of the real Shanghai. “Puxi is like Pu-York, but Pudong will always be Pu-Jersey,” the cognoscenti snidely remarked. Jack Bing, who hailed from Ningbo in Zhejiang Province, had no time for such snobberies. He was proud to be part of the new China that built Pudong, and whenever guests came to his triplex penthouse at Riverside Victory Towers—a hulking trio of ultra-luxurious apartment complexes that he had developed on the riverfront of Pudong’s financial district—he would proudly walk them around the sprawling rooftop garden of his 8,888-square-foot penthouse and point out the new city that stretched as far as the eye could see. “A decade ago, all this was farmland. Now it is the center of the world,” he would say.

Today, as Jack sat on the titanium and Mongolian gazelle lounge chair Marc Newson had custom designed for him, sipping his glass of 2005 Château Pétrus on the rocks, his thoughts lingered on the memory of an afternoon spent alone at the Palace of Versailles at the end of a business trip, where he delighted in stumbling upon a small exhibition devoted to Chinese antiquities in the court of Louis XIV. He was admiring a portrait of the Emperor Qianlong in a small gallery tucked behind the Hall of Mirrors when a large tour group of Chinese tourists crowded into the space. A man in head-to-toe Stefano Ricci pointed at the portrait of the emperor dressed in a Manchu-style fur cap and murmured excitedly, “Genghis Khan! Genghis Khan!”

Jack left the gallery hastily, afraid he might be associated with this group of ignorant Chinese. Imagine these heathens not knowing one of their greatest emperors, who ruled for more than sixty years! But as he strolled along the grand canal that bisected the majestic gardens of Versailles, he began to wonder whether the French themselves might today recognize a portrait of their own king who had built such an impressive monument to his power. Now, as Jack stared out at the curving crescent of golden lights along the Pudong waterfront, counting the buildings that belonged to him, he pondered his own legacy, and how the people of this new China might remember him in centuries to come.

The familiar click-click of his daughter’s high heels soon broke the silence, and Jack quickly removed the ice cubes from his wine and tossed them into the potted tan hua plant nearby. He knew Colette would scold him if she saw them. A couple of ice cubes missed the Ming ceramic planter and skidded across the floor, leaving faint red streaks along the Emperador marble.

Colette barged into his study all a-huff. “What’s wrong? Is Mother okay? Is Nainai okay?”

“Your grandmother is still alive as far as I know, and your mother is at her reflexology appointment,” Jack said calmly.

“Then why did you need me so urgently? I was in the middle of a very important dinner with the world’s most acclaimed chefs!”

“And that’s more important than seeing your own father? You come back from Paris and you would rather dine with the help?”

“This top truffle dealer was about to offer me his prized white Alba truffle when you called, but now I think that sneaky Eric Ripert has snagged it. I was going to surprise you with the truffle.”

Jack let out a snort. “What really surprises me is the way you keep disappointing me over and over again.”

Colette stared at her father quizzically. “What have I ever done to disappoint you?”

“The fact that you don’t even know is so telling. I went to such lengths to help Richie Yang orchestrate the perfect proposal to you, and look what you did in return.”

“You were part of that whole scheme? Of course you were—if I had planned the affair, it would have been so much more tasteful!”

“That’s not the point. The point is that you were supposed to say yes, like any normal girl who is being serenaded by one of the most expensive singers in the world.”

Colette rolled her eyes. “I like John Legend, but even if you had paid John Lennon to rise from the grave and sing ‘All You Need Is Love’ to me, the answer would still be no.”

Colette saw something move out of the corner of her eye and turned to find her mother standing by the doorway. “What are you doing skulking in the shadows? Have you been home all this time? You knew Dad was involved all along, didn’t you?”

“Aiyah, I couldn’t believe it when you turned Richie down! We have both wanted this for you ever since you started dating him three years ago,” her mother said with a deep sigh, planting herself down on the gilded settee.

“It’s not like I’ve been seeing him exclusively. I’ve been dating many other men.”

“Well, you’ve had your fun, and now it’s high time you got married. I had you by the time I was your age,” Mrs. Bing chastised.

“I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation! Why did you send me to the most progressive schools in England if all you expected out of me was to get married at such a young age? Why did I bother studying so hard at Regent’s? I have so many goals, so many things I want to accomplish before I become anyone’s wife.”

“Why can’t you accomplish your goals while you’re married?” Jack argued.

“It’s not the same, Father. Besides, my situation is so different than when the both of you were young. Sometimes I wonder if I even need to get married at all—it’s not like I need a man to look after me!”

“How long do you intend to make us wait until you are ready for marriage?” her mother demanded.

“I think I won’t be ready for at least another decade.”

“Wo de tian ah! You’ll be thirty-three. What will happen to your eggs? Your eggs will get old and your babies might be born retarded or deformed!” Mrs. Bing screeched.

“Mother, stop being so ridiculous! With all the damn doctors you see every day, you should know that such things don’t happen anymore. They have special genetic tests now, and women are having babies well into their forties!”

“Listen to her!” Mrs. Bing said incredulously to her husband.

Jack leaned forward in his chair and remarked wryly, “I don’t think this has anything to do with age, actually. I think our daughter is in love with Carlton Bao.”

“Even if I was, I wouldn’t want to get married to him right now,” Colette shot back.

“And what makes you think I would ever approve of your marrying him?”

Colette looked at her father in exasperation. “Why is Richie so much more special than Carlton? They both have degrees from top universities, and both come from respectable families. Why, I’d even say that Carlton comes from a higher-status family than Richie.”

Mrs. Bing harrumphed. “I don’t like that Bao Shaoyen. Always acting so uppity, like she’s so much better and smarter than me!”

“That’s because she IS smarter than you, Mother. She has a PhD in biochemistry and runs a multibillion-dollar company.”

“How dare you say that to me! Don’t you think I’m partly responsible for your father’s success? I was the one who spent all those years—”

Raising his voice to be heard over his arguing wife and daughter, Jack interjected, “CARLTON BAO’S family has two billion dollars at most. The Yangs are on a whole other level. Our level. Don’t you see that this is the perfect dynastic match? The two of you together would make our families the most powerful and influential in China. Do you not see the unique position that you are in to be part of history?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that I was a chess piece in your plan for world domination,” Colette shot back sarcastically.

Jack banged his fist on the desk and stood up from his chair, pointing at her angrily. “You are not my chess piece! You are my prized possession. And I want to see that you are treated like a queen and married off to the best possible man in the whole world!”

“But the fact that I don’t agree with your idea of the best man means nothing to you!”

“Well if Carlton Bao is the best man for you, then why hasn’t he proposed to you?” Jack challenged her.

“Oh, he’ll propose whenever I want him to. Don’t you understand? I keep telling you, I’m just not ready! WHEN I want to get married and IF I choose Carlton, you can be sure he will exceed your expectations. The Baos might have more money than the Yangs by then. You have no idea how smart Carlton is! Once he really devotes his attention to his family’s business, there’s no telling how well he can do.”

“Is that going to happen in my lifetime? Your mother and I are not getting any younger—I want to see my grandsons grow up while we are still healthy enough to enjoy them!”

Colette’s eyes narrowed as she stared at her father, seeing things in a whole new light. “So this is what it’s really all about…you are just dying for grandsons, aren’t you?”

“Of course! What grandparents wouldn’t want lots and lots of grandsons?” Mrs. Bing said.

“This is just too funny…it’s like I’m trapped in some time warp.” Colette laughed to herself. “And what if I only produce girls? What if I don’t want any children at all?”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” her mother snapped.

Colette was about to argue back when it hit her—her mother’s very name, Lai Di, meant “hoping for a son.” Her mother couldn’t escape her mind-set—it had literally been branded on her since the day she was born. Colette looked at her parents squarely and said, “The two of you might have grown up like peasants, but I am not a peasant, and you did not raise me to be one. It is 2013, and I am not going to get married and pump out babies just because you want a barrel full of grandsons.”

“Ungrateful child! After all we’ve given you in life!” Mrs. Bing blurted out.

“Yes, thank you, you’ve given me a great life, and I intend to live it!” Colette declared, storming out of the room.

Jack gave a sharp little laugh. “Let’s see how she intends to live her life once I put a freeze on her accounts.”