Free A Concubine for the Family: A Family Saga in China by Amy Kwei Page A

made at Xian?” Strong looked to General Chin for an answer.
    General Chin raised his winecup, waving it in front of the guests. “We’re making far too much of this incident.” He assumed the cheerful mask of the diplomat.
    Glorious Dragon made a mental note. The generalissimo was trained in the Chinese classics — bound by the traditional ethics of a scholar. Should he honor his promise, and should the coalition become a reality, Japan surely would not accept a united China. If open warfare erupted between China and Japan, the foreign concessions would become sanctuaries of peace; real estate prices would skyrocket. A look into further investments in the area would not be amiss.
    The Englishmen also found the discussion intriguing, but the Kaoliang was warm and the chicken in garlic sauce was superb. That dapper Dragon chap would surely clarify everything for them in the morning. So ignoring Strong, they readily agreed to learn the finger-guessing game Glorious Dragon suggested.
    “You see, the game is quite simple,” Glorious Dragon explained in a cheerful voice, his face flushed from the Kaoliang. “Both of us must shout out a number together from one to five. The rhythm picks up as you become familiar with the game, but for now, let’s use this simple rhythm: one, two, three, shout . . . one, two, three, shout . . .” He smiled, waved his arms, and conducted the chorus of robust voices shouting numbers from one through five. “Now, as you shout, you throw out a fist for a zero, or a one, two, three, four or all five fingers.” He gesticulated with his right hand, throwing out a fist, then one finger or more to demonstrate. “If the added number of fingers on the two competing hands equals the number that one of us shouted, you win. The loser drinks the wine.”
    “Oh-ho.” Dunning laughed. “That’s insane! Why should anyone play to lose?”
    “It’s only a game. Let’s try.” Glorious Dragon smiled. “Three,” he shouted, throwing out two fingers while Dunning shouted “two” at the same time and threw out one finger. Glorious Dragon won and Dunning had to drink. A serving girl stood behind each guest and replenished the cup after each drink. Bright Crystal urged food on the guests.
    It soon became apparent that Wilson often shouted the same number of fingers as he threw out. He formed the numbers with his lips even before he shouted, so he was losing and drinking heavily. Bright Crystal quietly maneuvered herself next to Wilson. Twice, she squeezed his arm and soothed him with her soft eyes; flashing her sweet dimples, she purred, “I’ll drink for you.” She motioned her serving girl to pour, and while the guests cheered and hooted, she downed her drink in one toss. “
Kang-pai
,” she hummed. She drained her cup and held it in an upside-down position. The men cheered wildly; it was intoxicating to see a refined lady drink with such liberal gusto. Following her example, shouting “
Kang-pai, kang-pai
,” they drained their cups. The guests were soon rendered rosy-faced and hazy-minded. Even Strong joined in the merriment. “This is very similar to a finger game I played as a child in the U.S. I can’t remember what it’s called now,” he said.
    The Xian incident was completely forgotten.
    No one at the table, not even General Chin, was aware that although Bright Crystal and Glorious Dragon’s first few cups contained liquor, they had drunk nothing but colored tea the rest of the evening. Their serving girls had been instructed to pour only for them, and in the excitement of jovial carousing, no one noticed. The Westerners couldn’t tell one serving girl from another. They complimented Bright Crystal’s generous capacity for wine.
    The following morning, Messrs. Wilson and Dunning, thoroughly dazzled by the hospitality, acceded to all terms of the contract drawn up by Glorious Dragon.

A RCHIE STRONG ENJOYED his evening on Avenue Joffre. Nevertheless, during the following week, he