1898, HONG KONG.
ELIZABETH LEE: Born in Hong Kong as the only daughter of an extremely wealthy man and his concubine, Elizabeth is disposable. A pawn to be bought, sold, and traded - specifically, for the drug, opium, the business in which her fath...
"TODAY IS QING MING," ELIZABETH INFORMED HIM OVER breakfast, stirring her porcelain bowl of congee. (1) Blue dragons and flowers were painted onto the sides of the white bowl, which matched his. "That means we are going to the cemetery today."
Ever since that night at the dinner party she had been more receptive to him, having come to something of an unnamed truce. So he tried to eat his breakfast—also the same as hers—with as much fervour as she did. He resolved to regain something of the adventurous spirit that he had lost since realizing he would have to enter this arranged marriage.
"I see." He waited for her to continue and sipped some oolong tea in the meantime. (2)
Still, the white rice porridge, topped with diced green onions, pork floss, and a fried golden-brown piece of dough that reminded him of a less-sweet churro, did not beckon to him. Perhaps it was the lack of familiarity or simply the somber mood that soured his stomach, but either way he finished only half the bowl and found himself unable to go on. His future father-in-law frowned at him but said nothing. The man was exceptionally strict.
The other night, William had seen him rap Elizabeth's knuckles with a pair of chopsticks simply for taking a piece of chicken that was too far from her side of the dish. He'd flinched at the red marks and been faced with an icy glower for doing so. Under the table, he'd knocked his knee into Elizabeth's, trying to form some sense of camaraderie.
"There is a Chinese saying," Mr. Lee said in slow, accented but precise English. "Hoh sik mm sik, zhuey dai ok gik." (3)
Elizabeth translated for him. "The biggest crime of all is to waste food."
He silently pulled his bowl back towards himself, feeling the back of his neck flush red. It was one thing for his mother to chastise him for not finishing his food when he was a boy and she was worried for his health. It was another thing altogether for a man who was, for all intents and purposes, a perfect stranger to him, to do the same and for completely different reasons.
"Leave him alone, lah. He's a gweilo, he doesn't know our ways," Elizabeth chastised her father.
Her father slammed his china cup down, making it rattle against the saucer. "You could have children with this man in the future. Children learn by example, do you want them to have his bad habits?"
Her short instant of bravery quelled, she fell back into demure politeness. "No, Baba." (4)
The rest of breakfast passed in silence. As the house was hurried to get ready and leave, Elizabeth stayed with him at the table and explained the ritual to him. "It happens every year. We'll go to the cemetery, say a few words, clean the grave and leave things like flowers and food for the dead. Some families will burn fake money for their ancestors to spend in the afterlife. Then we usually leave and have supper with our relatives. Oh, and I've heard your father will be there tonight as well."
Anticipation rose in the pit of his stomach at the thought of seeing his father again after so long, a familiar face in this crowd of foreign ones. Still, something about it niggled at him. He had, after all, seen her take out a rosary before. "Are you not Christian? Isn't this a rather... heathen ceremony?"
She shrugged. "I've never really believed in any of the ceremonies. It's simply another custom of the place I was raised in. After all, do the Scriptures ever discuss the most auspicious month for the British or the Chinese to get married? No, but it is a superstitious aspect of your culture."
She brought up a fair point, he had to admit. Something for him to ponder as they left the house and made their way to the graveyard.
☕️
Silence fell over the cemetery as an unseasonably stiff breeze stirred the air. William watched as his future mother-in-law lit a handful of thin red incense sticks and placed them in the vases on either side of a gravestone. Smoke curled up from them as Elizabeth's father placed some oranges and roast pork in front of the tomb, the smell of food inappropriately making his mouth water in such a solemn situation. His stomach grumbled and Elizabeth looked over at him, not with the expected annoyance but with a hint of a smile on her lips. Though today the smile was not full-blown; she seemed more subdued, her eyes glassy and red-rimmed as if from tears. The sight concerned him more than he wanted to admit.
Elizabeth's father knelt in front of the grave and began uprooting the weeds that had sprouted on either side of the headstone. It was a very unusual sight to see a rich man so heedless of decorum, so willing to perform menial tasks for the sake of familial piety. After an instant, the rest of the Lee family joined him and, feeling awkward, William did so as well. Fresh flowers were placed in the vases, beautiful yellow roses that stood out against the granite.
Finally the ritual was over and he thought for a moment that it was rather hypocritical to accuse him of wasting the food when they had simply left an entire platter of roast pork and some oranges at the grave, uneaten. But then a moment later he saw Mr. Lee motion a man who looked like a beggar, with his bedraggled clothes and leathery brown face and toothless grin, over to bring the food away, likely to eat it.
A few paces behind him, he heard Elizabeth crying and felt each sob like a hit to the gut.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(1) 清明節 - a grave sweeping ceremony that happens every year, observed by the Chinese and other East Asians
