At the far end of the courtyard, in front of the carved lotus blossom fountain, Su Yi’s simple black teakwood casket rested on a marble dais surrounded by orchids. In a nearby alcove, Nick, his parents, and many members of the extended Young clan stood in an informal receiving line. Nick was dressed in a white button-down shirt with black trousers, and Rachel noticed that all the men present—Nick’s father, Alistair Cheng, and a few other men she didn’t recognize—were dressed in the same manner.

“Rachel, why don’t you go to Nick first. We don’t want to disrupt your reunion,” Peik Lin suggested. Rachel nodded and descended the few steps into the courtyard toward the receiving line, feeling her stomach tense up in a sudden wave of anxiety. Nick was hugging Lucia Shang and was just about to be introduced to the president of China when he saw her approach. He quickly stepped out of the receiving line and dashed to her.

“Darling!” he said, sweeping her into an embrace.

“Oh my, did you just dis the president of China?” Rachel asked.

“Did I? Oh well, who cares? You’re far more important.” Nick laughed, and taking Rachel by the hand, led her to the receiving line and announced proudly, “Everyone—my wife has arrived!”

Rachel immediately felt every eye in the room turn to take her in. Philip and Eleanor welcomed Rachel and the avalanche of introductions began. Nick’s uncles, aunts, and cousins from all the various branches greeted her far more warmly than she had expected, and suddenly Rachel found herself face-to-face with the president of China. Before she could say anything, Nick stepped forward and announced in Mandarin, “This is my wife. I believe her father, Bao Gaoliang, serves on your standing committee?”

The president looked momentarily startled, and then he broke into a wide grin. “You’re Gaoliang’s daughter? The economics professor from New York? It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. My God, you look just like your brother, Carlton.”

“He’s right over there,” Rachel replied in perfect Mandarin, waving her brother over.

“Carlton Bao, you seem to be everywhere these days! Didn’t I just see you at my daughter’s birthday dinner two nights ago? I hope you’re flying on air miles,” the president said in mock seriousness.

“Of course, sir,” Carlton replied. He beamed at the gathered group, making sure to catch Scheherazade’s eye.

Alfred Shang, who had observed the whole scene silently, looked at Rachel and Carlton with a newfound curiosity.

Rachel turned to Nick and said in a quiet voice, “Can I pay my respects to your grandmother?”

“Of course,” he said. They walked up to the casket, which was surrounded by exquisite orchids in delicate celadon pots. “My grandmother was most proud of her prizewinning orchids. I don’t think I ever saw her happier than the day the National Orchid Society named one of her hybrids after her.”

Rachel peered into the casket a little hesitantly, but she was surprised by how splendid Su Yi looked. She lay majestically swathed in a robe of shimmering yellow silk intricately embroidered with flowers, and her hair was crowned by the most spectacular Peranakan headpiece made of gold and pearls. Rachel bowed her head for a moment, and when she looked up at Nick, she saw that his eyes were brimming with tears. Placing her arm around his waist, she said, “I’m so glad you got to see her before she passed. She looks very peaceful.”

“Yes, she does,” Nick said, sniffing quietly.

Rachel noticed something glistening between Su Yi’s teeth. “Um, what’s that in her mouth?”

“It’s a black pearl. It’s an old Chinese custom…the pearl ensures a smooth transition into the afterlife,” Nick explained. “And do you see the Fabergé case beside her?”

“Yeah?” Rachel noticed a small rectangular bejeweled box next to the pillow.

“Those are her glasses, so she can have perfect vision in her next life.”

Before Rachel could make another comment, a strange, whimpering sound could be heard echoing from one of the alcoves. They turned to see Alistair and his father, Malcolm, holding up a frail man as he limped toward them slowly. Rachel realized with a start that the man was Nick’s cousin Eddie, and behind him walked his wife, Fiona, and their three children, all dressed in matching black linen and silk bespoke outfits.

“Kaiser Wilhelm has arrived,” Oliver pronounced, rolling his eyes.

Eddie collapsed into a heap dramatically at the foot of the casket and began to convulse and emit deep, hacking sobs.

“Ah Ma! Ah Ma! What will I do without you now?” he wailed, flailing his arms wildly, almost knocking over one of the orchid pots.

Felicity Leong whispered to her sister Alix, “He better not break any of those vases! They’re worth a fortune!”

“What a devoted grandson!” the president of China observed.

Hearing this, Eddie cried out even more bitterly, “How can I go on living, Ah Ma? How will I survive?” Tears poured down his face, mixing with lines of dangling snot as he continued to prostrate himself beside his grandmother’s casket. Eddie’s two younger children, Augustine and Kalliste, knelt on either side of their father and began to rub his back soothingly. He elbowed the kids quickly, and they started to cry on cue.

Standing at a distance, Alistair whispered to Peik Lin, “I guess we didn’t need to hire any professional mourners.”*2

“Well, your brother can certainly do this professionally! The kids are doing a great job too.”

“I’m sure they were forced to rehearse a million times,” Alistair said.

Eddie suddenly turned around and glared at his other son. “Constantine, my firstborn! Come! Give your great-grandma a kiss!”

“No fucking way, Dad! I don’t care how much you say you’ll pay me, I’m not going to kiss a dead body!”

Eddie’s nostrils flared in rage, but since everyone was staring at them he simply gave his son a big you’re-gonna-get-your-ass-wupped-later smile and sprang up from the ground. He smoothed out his Mandarin-collared linen suit and announced, “Everyone, I have a surprise in honor of Ah Ma. Please follow me.”

He led the group of relatives out to the walled rose garden that bordered the east wing of the house. “Kaspar, we’re ready!” he shouted. Suddenly, a bank of floodlights illuminated the darkened garden, and everyone gasped. In front of them was a three-story structure made out of wood and paper. It was an intricately constructed scale model of Tyersall Park, with every pillar, eave, and awning painstakingly replicated down to the last detail.

“Kaspar von Morgenlatte, my personal decorator, had a whole team of artisans working on this for weeks,” Eddie proudly announced, bowing to the crowd that had by now gathered in front of the house replica.

“I am not a decoratur! I am an interieur arkitect und art konsultant!” declared a tall, exceedingly thin man with slicked-back white-blond hair, dressed in a white turtleneck sweater and high-waisted white linen trousers. “Ladies und gentlemen, pleazzze pay attention! The interieur of this maknificent schloss opens up…”

Four equally blond assistants scurried out from the shadows. They unfastened a few hinges along the side columns, allowing the entire front façade of the house to open and reveal interior rooms that had been decorated to excruciating detail, but unfortunately did not replicate the real interiors of Tyersall Park.