Chapter Six: Stay Tonight

Dinner was more sumptuous than ever before, so much so that even Tan Xue, who was used to her mother’s cooking at home, felt a twinge of jealousy. Even during the New Year, her mother had never prepared such a lavish spread. Chu Dong, though unfamiliar with the family’s customs, was stunned by the sheer abundance of dishes covering the table. After a few polite exchanges with Uncle and Aunt Tan, he paid no mind to the sisters’ sidelong glances and, like a gust of wind, began his conquest of the meal.

There were crab roe tossed with chives, steamed shrimp, tomato-braised beef, braised twin carp—at first, the elder couple served Chu Dong with their chopsticks, but soon they couldn’t keep up with his pace. He ate as if he hadn’t seen food in ages, arms swinging, devouring everything in sight. By the end, the four members of the Tan family could only watch in astonishment as Chu Dong swept the table clean.

When Chu Dong was finally full, burping contentedly, he noticed everyone was staring at him. Somewhat embarrassed, he wiped his mouth. “Aunt Tan, your food is incredible. Now I understand why, as a child, I was always reluctant to leave your house. Your cooking has conquered me.”

“Well, my mom’s cooking has conquered you, and you’ve conquered the whole family’s eyes. Big brother, can’t you show a little restraint? I’m still growing, you know. Couldn’t you at least leave some scraps so I could have rice soaked in the sauce?” Tan Yuer put down her chopsticks, pouting with visible displeasure.

“How can you talk to your brother Dong like that? I’ll make you more later. Have you ever gone hungry?” Aunt Tan gently patted Yuer’s hand.

“I don’t think my sister is wrong. We haven’t seen each other in years, couldn’t you show a little decorum? Look at the table—what’s left now?” Tan Xue set down her chopsticks as well, clearly annoyed by Chu Dong’s lack of manners.

“A real man eats heartily. Should we all pick at our food like cats? Ha! Nephew, I like you just the way you are, just like when you were a boy. That’s how it should be,” said Old Master Tan with a hearty laugh, clapping Chu Dong on the shoulder and pulling him aside to play chess.

“Mom, I want sweet and sour ribs too—just as big a plate!” Little Yuer clung to her mother, pleading coquettishly.

“All right, I’ll make them for you. Why aren’t you this easy to please on ordinary days? Clearly, food tastes better with more people around.” Without even removing her apron, Aunt Tan headed back into the kitchen.

“Dongzi, now that your family’s business rests on your shoulders, what are your plans?” Tan Songhai asked casually as they played chess.

“What can he do? If not for what Uncle Chu left behind for him to squander, the Chu family’s business has been shrinking these past two years. I don’t see any potential for growth under his management. A company that once had abundant capital is now reduced to a small hotel that keeps losing money,” Tan Xue interjected, pursing her lips as she poured tea. After graduating, she had joined the family business and now managed a department. For reasons unknown even to herself, she paid close attention to the Chu family’s affairs.

Of course, Chu Dong wasn’t about to air the family’s dirty laundry—how the company was on the brink when he took over and how, by scaling back and focusing on promising ventures, he kept things afloat. He certainly wouldn’t mention how his father’s optimistic misjudgment of the economic climate had left him with an unwieldy, overextended business, only for the mess to be dumped in his lap when there was no turning back. All of this he had swallowed in silence, and now he could only grin sheepishly.

“What do you really know?” Old Master Tan chided his eldest daughter without reserve. “Last time, when copper prices plummeted, your Uncle Chu lost a lot in copper futures. I thought he wouldn’t pull through and was ready to help, but he refused, saying Dongzi could handle it. I still don’t know how he managed. Do you know all the details?”

“I…” Tan Xue started to argue, but found no words. She set the tea down beside them with a huff and sat watching her mother knit, bristling with indignation.

“Right, Dongzi, tell us how you managed the last crisis,” Tan Songhai asked, his interest piqued at the mention of business.

“It wasn’t much, really. I took advantage of the massive drop in copper prices, which devalued copper mines, and incidentally acquired an Australian copper mine. Then I made use of the Australian government’s support for non-ferrous metals to take out a loan using the mine as collateral. In effect, I was both buyer and seller—just paid a bit more in taxes, but the losses were much smaller,” Chu Dong explained, rubbing his hands, slightly embarrassed.

“Brilliant!” Tan Songhai exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Now that copper prices have soared, you must have made a fortune.”

“It’s all right, I suppose,” Chu Dong replied with a modest laugh.

In truth, Chu Dong’s maneuver had been masterful. Australia is a major copper producer, and the price drop had been a temporary move by international speculators. When the storm passed, copper prices skyrocketed. Thanks to Chu Dong’s strategy, the Chu family not only recovered the losses from his father’s miscalculation, but also acquired a large mine with an annual output worth over fifty million US dollars—almost effortlessly turning misfortune into gain.

“You acquired Tiger Minerals?” Tan Xue asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yes, though it was more luck than skill,” Chu Dong replied, deciding that humility was the best course.

It took a while for Tan Xue to recover. “A blind cat catches a dead mouse. But in the end, didn’t you sell it off? Nothing to boast about.” When she’d heard that Tiger Minerals was acquired by a Chinese company, she had been frustrated, since copper prices soon hit historic highs, rising by more than ten percent.

Though her view of Chu Dong as a frivolous character hadn’t entirely changed, she clearly no longer found him quite so disagreeable. Still, reconciliation was not so simple. Arms crossed, she curled up on the sofa watching TV, occasionally glancing at Chu Dong with an air of haughty superiority.

Time ticked past ten o’clock. Tan Songhai and Chu Dong had played six or seven rounds of chess, but the clueless Chu Dong didn’t let the old man win once. Finding it less and less enjoyable—lacking the thrill of matching wits with an equal—Tan Songhai finally conceded. But his next statement made Tan Xue, who’d been yawning by his side out of politeness, leap up immediately.

“No way—there’s no room in the house, where would he sleep?” she objected.

“Who says there’s no room? You can squeeze in with your sister. It’s late, and Dongzi’s had some wine. I wouldn’t trust him to drive home,” Old Master Tan declared, his word final.

“Uncle Tan, I should really go home…” Chu Dong hadn’t planned to stay, but Tan Xue’s attitude made him change his mind, so he demurred somewhat insincerely.

“What’s with the hesitation? I’ve decided. Stay the night, go home in the morning.”