The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy Box Set

by Kevin Kwan

  “She was very pretty, yes. But so simple—she was literally wearing pajamas when I met her. She looked like a schoolgirl. Is she Eurasian?”

  “No. But her mum is from Xinjiang, so she has Uighur blood, so they say,” Neena said.

  “Araminta is our most celebrated fashion icon! She has modeled for all the magazines, and she was one of Alexander McQueen’s favorite models,” Sheryl continued breathlessly.

  “She’s a total babe,” P.T. chimed in.

  “When did you meet her?” Peik Lin asked.

  “She was with Colin. They picked us up at the airport.”

  “They picked you up at the airport!” P.T. exclaimed in disbelief, laughing hysterically. “Was there an army of bodyguards?”

  “Not at all. They came in an SUV. Actually, there were two SUVs. One took the luggage straight to the hotel. No wonder,” Rachel recalled.

  “Rachel, Colin Khoo’s family owns the Kingsford Hotel! That’s why you’re staying there,” Peik Lin said, jabbing her arm excitedly.

  Rachel didn’t quite know what to say. She found herself amused and a little embarrassed by all the excitement.

  “Your boyfriend is Colin Khoo’s best man? What’s his name?” Peik Lin’s father demanded.

  “Nicholas Young,” Rachel replied.

  “Nicholas Young … how old is he?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “That’s one year above Peik Wing,” Neena said. She looked up at the ceiling, as if racking through her mental Rolodex to see if she could recall a Nicholas Young.

  “Peik Wing—ever heard of Nicholas Young?” Wye Mun asked his eldest son.

  “Nope. Do you know which school he went to?” Peik Wing asked Rachel.

  “Balliol College, Oxford,” she replied, hesitantly. She wasn’t sure why they were suddenly so interested in every minute detail.

  “No, no—I mean which primary school,” Peik Wing said.

  “Elementary school,” Peik Lin clarified.

  “Oh, I have no idea.”

  “Nicholas Young … sounds like an ACS† boy,” P.T. chimed in. “All those ACS boys have Christian names.”

  “Colin Khoo went to ACS. Daddy, I already tried to check Nick out when Rachel first started dating him, but no one I know has ever heard of him,” Peik Lin added.

  “Nick and Colin went to elementary school together. They have been best friends since childhood,” Rachel said.

  “What is his father’s name?” Wye Mun asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, if you find out the parents’ names, we can tell you whether he comes from a good family or not,” Wye Mun said.

  “Alamaaaaak, of course he’s from good family, if he’s best friends with Colin Khoo,” Neena said. “Young … Young … Sheryl, isn’t there a gyney named Richard Young? The one who practices with Dr. Toh?”

  “No, no, Nick’s father is an engineer. I think he works in Australia part of the year,” Rachel offered.

  “Well, see if you can find out more about his background, and we can help you,” Wye Mun finally said.

  “Oh, you really don’t have to do that. It’s not important to me what sort of family he comes from,” Rachel said.

  “Nonsense, lah! Of course it’s important!” Wye Mun was adamant. “If he’s Singaporean, I have a responsibility to make sure he’s good enough for you!”

  * * *

  * Hokkien for “eat.”

  † Among Singapore’s upper crust, only two boys’ schools matter: Anglo-Chinese School (ACS) and Raffles Institution (RI). Both are consistently ranked among the top schools in the world and have enjoyed a long, heated rivalry. RI, established in 1823, is known to attract the brainy crowd, while ACS, established in 1886, is popular with the more fashionable set and somewhat perceived to be a breeding ground for snobs. Much of this has to do with the 1980 article in the Sunday Nation entitled “The Little Horrors of ACS,” which exposed the rampant snobbery among its pampered students. This led to a shamed principal announcing to stunned students (including this author) the very next morning during assembly that, henceforth, students were no longer allowed to be dropped off at the front entrance by their chauffeurs. (They had to walk up the short driveway all by themselves, unless it was raining.) Expensive watches, eyeglasses, fountain pens, briefcases, satchels, pencil boxes, stationery, combs, electronic gadgets, comic books, and any other luxury items would also be banned from school property. (But within a few months, Lincoln Lee started wearing his Fila socks again and no one seemed to notice.)

  17

  Nicholas and Colin

  SINGAPORE

  Perhaps out of nostalgia, Nick and Colin liked to meet up at the coffee shop of their old alma mater on Barker Road. Located in the sports complex between the main pool and the basketball courts, the Anglo-Chinese School coffee shop served a motley selection of Thai and Singaporean dishes as well as such oddities as British beef pies, which Nick loved. Back when the two of them were on the swim team, they would always grab a bite after practice at the “tuck shop,” as they called it. The original cooks had long since retired, the legendary mee siam was no longer on the menu, and the coffee shop itself wasn’t even in the original space—having long since been torn down during the redevelopment of the sports center. But for Nick and Colin, it was still the place to meet whenever they were both in town.

  Colin had already ordered his lunch by the time Nick arrived. “Sorry I’m late,” Nick said, patting him on the back as he got to the table. “I had to swing by my grandmother’s.”

  Colin did not look up from his plate of salted fried chicken, so Nick continued. “So what else do we have to do today? The tuxes are in from London, and I’m just waiting to hear back from some of the last-minute people about the rehearsal next week.”

  Colin clamped his eyes shut and grimaced. “Can we please talk about something besides this fucking wedding?”

  “Okay then. What do you want to talk about?” Nick asked calmly, realizing that Colin had hit one of his down days. The cheerful, life-of-the-party Colin of the night before had vanished.

  Colin didn’t respond.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” Nick asked.

  Colin remained silent. There was no one else in the place, and the only sounds were the occasional muffled shouts of players on the basketball court next door and the clatter of dishes being washed every time the lone waiter walked in and out of the kitchen. Nick leaned back into his seat, patiently waiting for Colin to make the next move.

  To the society pages, Colin was known as Asia’s billionaire bachelor jock. Famed not only for being the scion of one of Asia’s great fortunes but also as one of Singapore’s top-ranked swimmers back in his college days. He was celebrated for his exotic good looks and debonair style, his string of romances with local starlets, and his ever-expanding collection of contemporary art.

  With Nick, however, Colin had the freedom to be his true self. Nick, who had known him since childhood, was probably the only person on the planet who didn’t give a damn about his money, and more important, the only one who was there during what they both referred to as “the war years.” For beneath the wide grin and the charismatic personality, Colin struggled with a severe anxiety disorder and crippling depression, and Nick was one of the few people allowed to witness this side of him. It was as if Colin bottled up all of his pain and anguish for months at a time, unleashing it on Nick whenever he was in town. To anyone else, this would have been an intolerable situation, but Nick was so used to this by now, he almost didn’t recall a time when Colin wasn’t swinging between the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. This was just a prerequisite of being Colin’s best friend.

  The waiter, a sweaty teenager in a soccer T-shirt who didn’t look old enough to pass child labor laws, approached the table to take Nick’s order.

  “I’ll have the beef curry pie, please. And a Coke
, extra ice.”

  Colin finally broke his silence. “As always, beef curry pie and Coke, extra ice. You never change, do you?”

  “What can I tell you? I know what I like,” Nick said simply.

  “Even though you always like the exact same thing, you can always change your mind whenever you wish. That’s the difference between us—you still have choices.”

  “Come on, that’s not true. You can choose.”

  “Nicky, I haven’t been in the position to make a single choice since I was born, and you know that,” Colin said matter-of-factly. “It’s a good thing I actually want to marry Araminta. I just don’t know how I’ll make it through the Broadway production, that’s all. I have this perverse fantasy of kidnapping her, jumping on a plane, and marrying her at some little twenty-four-hour chapel in the middle of nowhere Nevada.”

  “So why not do it? The wedding isn’t until next week, but if you’re already this miserable, why not call it off?”

  “You know this merger has been choreographed down to the most minute detail, and this is how it’s going to be. It’s good for business, and anything that’s good for business is good for the family,” Colin said bitterly. “Anyway, I don’t want to dwell on the inevitable anymore. Let’s talk about last night. How was I? Sufficiently cheery for Rachel, I hope?”

  “Rachel loved you. It was a nice surprise to be welcomed like that, but you know, you don’t ever have to put on a show for her.”

  “I don’t? What have you told her about me?” Colin asked warily.

  “I haven’t told her anything, besides the fact that you once had an unhealthy obsession with Kristin Scott Thomas.”

  Colin laughed. Nick was relieved—it was a sign that the clouds were dissipating.

  “You didn’t tell her about how I tried to stalk Kristin in Paris, did you?” Colin continued.

  “Er, no. I wasn’t going to give her any more opportunities to back out of this trip by giving her full insight into my weird friends.”

  “Speaking of weird, could you believe how nice Araminta was being to Rachel?”

  “I think you’re underestimating Araminta’s ability to be nice.”

  “Well, you know how she normally is with new people. But I think she wants to keep you on her side. And she could see that I liked Rachel instantly.”

  “I’m so glad.” Nick smiled.

  “To be quite honest, I thought I might be slightly jealous of her at first, but I think she’s great. She’s not clingy, and she’s so refreshingly … American. You do realize that everyone is talking about you and Rachel, right? Everyone is already taking bets on the wedding date.”

  Nick sighed. “Colin, I’m not thinking about my wedding right now. I’m thinking about yours. I’m just trying to live in the here and now.”

  “So speaking of the here and now, when are you going to introduce Rachel to your grandmother?”

  “I was thinking tonight. That’s why I went to see my grandmother—to get Rachel invited to dinner.”

  “I’ll say a little prayer,” Colin quipped as he finished his last chicken wing. He knew how momentous it was for Nick’s famously reclusive grandmother to invite a virtual stranger into her house. “You do realize that everything’s going to change the minute you take Rachel into that house, don’t you?”

  “Funny, Astrid said the same thing. You know, Rachel is not expecting anything—she’s never put any pressure on me when it comes to marriage. In fact, we’ve never even discussed it.”

  “No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Colin tried to clarify. “It’s just that the two of you have been living this idyllic fantasy, this simple ‘young lovers in Greenwich Village’ life. Up until now, you’ve been the guy struggling to get tenure. Don’t you think she’s in for quite a shock tonight?”

  “What do you mean? I am struggling to get tenure, and I don’t see how Rachel meeting my grandmother will change things.”

  “Come on, Nicky, don’t be naïve. The minute she walks into that house, it will affect your relationship. I’m not saying that things are going to be bad, necessarily, but an innocence will be lost. You won’t be able to go back to the way it was before, that’s for sure. No matter what, you’ll forever be transformed in her eyes, just like all my former girlfriends the minute they found out I was that Colin Khoo. I’m only trying to prepare you a bit.”

  Nick pondered what Colin had just said for a while. “I think you’re wrong, Colin. First of all, our situations are so completely different. My family isn’t like yours. You’ve been groomed since day one to be the future CEO of the Khoo Organization, but nothing of the sort exists in my family. We don’t even have a family business. And yes, I might have well-to-do cousins and all that, but you know my situation isn’t like theirs. I’m not like Astrid, who inherited all her great-aunt’s money, or my Shang cousins.”

  Colin shook his head. “Nicky, Nicky, this is why I love you. You are the only person in all of Asia who doesn’t realize how rich you are, or should I say, how rich you will be one day. Here, hand over your wallet.”

  Nick was puzzled, but he took his well-worn brown leather wallet out of his back pocket and handed it to Colin. “You’ll see I have about fifty dollars inside.”

  Colin fished out Nick’s New York State driver’s license and held it in front of his face. “Tell me what this says.”

  Nick rolled his eyes but played along. “Nicholas A. Young.”

  “Yes, that’s it. YOUNG. Now, out of your entire family, are there any other male cousins with this surname?”

  “No.”

  “My point exactly. Besides your father, you are the only Young left in the line. You are the heir apparent, whether you choose to believe it or not. What’s more, your grandmother adores you. And everyone knows your grandmother controls both the Shang and Young fortunes.”

  Nick shook his head, partly in disbelief at Colin’s presumption, but more because speaking of such things—even with his best friend—made him rather uneasy. It was something that had been conditioned into him since an early age. (He could still remember the time when he was seven, coming home from school and asking his grandmother at teatime, “My classmate Bernard Tai says that his father is very very rich, and that we’re very very rich too. Is that true?” His aunt Victoria, immersed in her London Times, suddenly put her paper down and launched into him, “Nicky, boys with proper manners do not ever ask questions like that. You do not ever ask people if they are rich or discuss matters concerning money. We are not rich—we are simply well-off. Now, apologize to your Ah Ma.”)

  Colin continued. “Why do you think my grandfather, who treats everyone so dismissively, treats you like a visiting prince every time he sees you?”

  “And here I thought your grandfather just liked me.”

  “My grandfather is an asshole. He only cares about power and prestige and expanding the fucking Khoo empire. That’s why he encouraged this whole thing with Araminta to begin with, and that’s why he’s always dictated whom I could be friends with. Even when we were kids, I remember him saying, ‘You be nice to that Nicholas. Remember, we are nothing compared to the Youngs.’ ”

  “Your grandfather is going senile, I think. Anyway, all this inheritance nonsense is really beside the point, because, as you’ll soon see, Rachel is not the sort of girl who cares about any of that. She may be an economist, but she’s the least materialistic person I know.”

  “Well, then, I wish you the best. But you do realize that even in the here and now, dark forces are at work plotting against you?”

  “What is this, Harry Potter?” Nick sniggered. “That’s what you just sounded like. Yes, I am aware that even now dark forces are trying to sabotage me, as you put it. Astrid’s already warned me, my mother inexplicably decided to go to China right when I arrived, and I had to enlist my great-aunt to persuade my grandmother into inviting Rachel tonight. But you know what? I don’t really g
ive a damn.”

  “I don’t think it’s your mother you have to worry about.”

  “Then whom should I be worried about, exactly? Tell me who is bored enough to waste their time trying to ruin my relationship, and why?”

  “Practically every girl of marriageable age on the island and their mothers.”

  Nick laughed. “Wait a minute—why me? Aren’t you Asia’s most eligible bachelor?”

  “I’m a lame duck. Everyone knows that nothing in the world is going to stop Araminta from walking down that aisle next week. I hereby pass the crown on to you.” Colin chuckled, folding his paper napkin into a pyramid and placing it on Nick’s head. “Now you are a marked man.”

  18

  Rachel and Peik Lin

  SINGAPORE

  After they had finished lunch, Neena insisted on giving Rachel a complete tour of Villa d’Oro’s other wing (which, not surprisingly, was done up in the baroque-on-crack style Rachel had gotten a whiff of earlier). Neena also proudly showed off her rose garden and the Canova sculpture they had recently installed there (thankfully spared the gold treatment). With the tour finally over, Peik Lin suggested that they head back to the hotel to relax over afternoon tea, since Rachel was still feeling a bit jet-lagged. “Your hotel serves a terrific high tea, with fabulous nyonya kueh.”*

  “But I’m still full from lunch,” Rachel protested.

  “Well, you’ll just have to get used to the Singaporean eating schedule. We eat five times a day here—breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner, and late-night supper.”

  “God, I’m going to put on so much weight while I’m here.”

  “No you won’t. That’s the one good thing about this heat—you’ll sweat it all out!”

  “You might be right about that—I don’t know how you guys deal with this weather,” Rachel said. “I’ll have tea, but let’s find the coldest spot inside.”