Page 41

“Never thought of that, Ah Gong,” Xander says, obedientlyrolling the edges of his dumpling skin thin. He looks at the camera and gives that heart-winning smile of his, switching to English. “Is there anything better than making dumplings with your grandfather? And these are seriously so good, you guys.”
“So good,” Qiang Wen repeats to the camera with so much earnestness that Xander laughs.
Had that moment been real for Xander? For Qiang Wen, it had been one of the sweetest memories he had, one of the happiest days in recent years that he could remember. But now he finds himself questioning what it had meant to Xander, and he hates that he’s doing this. What does it matter if it didn’t mean the same thing to Xander as it did to him? Surely all that matters is his own perception? But it does. It does, damn it. Knowing that it could all have been fabricated for social media hurts as much as if Xander had told him he hated him. It hurts so much that Qiang Wen could’ve very easily hurt Xander over this betrayal. He grips his phone tight before slamming it face down on the table with a sigh.
The best thing Qiang Wen can do right now is to forget about this whole thing. He takes a deep breath. He’s going to let this go. Forget about everything that has to do with Xan—
The door swings open. “Ni hao, Qiang Wen!” a loud voice calls out.
All semblance of peace shatters and Qiang Wen’s head snaps up, his heart immediately hammering hard against his rib cage.
In the doorway is Vera. But not just Vera. She is flanked by the man Qiang Wen recognizes as TJ and TJ’s teenage daughter Robie? Or Rowan? Something like that. And the uncannily serious little girl Emma, who would be unnerving if she wasn’t so dang cute. Qiang Wen stares at them as they pile into his little shop. Qiang Wen’s dumpling place isn’t really an eat-in restaurant.There is only one small table with two chairs for people to sit at while waiting for their order, so the addition of four people, even if one of them is pint-sized, makes the space feel overcrowded.
“Uh,” Qiang Wen burbles. It takes a moment for him to find the right words in English. “Can I help you?”
“Vera thought it would be nice to eat at your place for a change,” the teenager mutters.
Qiang Wen is really not very good with teens. His own relationship with his daughter had deteriorated when she hit puberty, and he regards the teen years as a hideous time of strange hairs and even stranger odors. He gapes at this particular teen now, unsure of what to say to her.
She glances at him sullenly before shrugging. “Don’t look at me, it wasn’t my decision.”
“Oh yes,” Vera chirps. “Grab more chairs, Qiang Wen. You have some upstair? TJ help you.”
“Uh.” Qiang Wen’s brain has stopped working somehow. This is an invasion.
“Ah, I find stool back here,” Vera says, pointing to the kitchen area. “Look, there is stack of stools. Robin, you take one, TJ take two because he is very manly and strong.”
“Um, I’m not sure…” TJ mumbles.
“You not strong and manly?”
“No, I mean like,” TJ lowers his voice, “this feels like we’re intruding on Qiang Wen’s space?”
“Don’t be silly,” Vera cries. “Qiang Wen don’t mind.” She turns to Qiang Wen and gives him a sweet smile. “You don’t mind, right?”
“Wh…” Qiang Wen’s brain gives up trying to make sense of anything and he merely nods.
“See? He don’t mind. Stools now!” Vera snaps, and Robin andTJ stand to attention and rush to get the stools while Vera plops Emma onto one of the available stools and perches on the other one herself. “Qiang Wen, I want six pork and chive dumpling, six pork and shrimp dumpling, six pork and crab dumpling, and six vegetarian dumpling. Extra chili oil. Eat in.”
“We don’t do eat in,” Qiang Wen says, but the words come out soft as a whisper, and already more stools have appeared around the small table, and four pairs of eyes are now staring expectantly, hungrily, at him. And so without quite understanding what is happening, Qiang Wen heads back into the kitchen, where he fills Vera’s order, locating the right steamers and piling them on top of one another. He brings out the stack, staggering a little under its weight, and TJ jumps to his feet and helps him place them on the table. He could’ve sworn that there was no way that they could eat around this tiny table, but somehow, they make it work. Somehow, everybody has a pair of chopsticks—Emma has a pair of training chopsticks—and a little saucer of chili oil and vinegar, and somehow, everybody is eating his dumplings and arguing good-naturedly about which filling is the best one.
Is he allowed to enjoy this moment? It feels so wrong to Xander’s memory to have a good time after his death, especially given that these people are only here because Xander died. If Xander were still alive, Qiang Wen’s life would be the lonely, drab one he’s always known, with the occasional visits from Xander as the only bright points in it. Qiang Wen watches in a daze as Robin patiently tears a pork and crab dumpling in half and helps Emma pick it up with her training chopsticks.
“Chew slowly,” Robin instructs her. “I don’t want you to choke.” And this, coming from a surly teen, is somehow all the more touching because of its unexpectedness.
But just as Qiang Wen’s heart fills with joy, Vera says, “Qiang Wen, you’ll be happy to know that I am making very good progress on investigating your grandson’s death.”
Qiang Wen’s throat tightens and he struggles to swallow.
“Well, I have post two viral videos already. Do you know what ‘viral’ mean? It is like virus, spreading very quick, from person to person. A Vera virus,” she says proudly.
“That just doesn’t sound like a good thing,” TJ says.
Vera shoots him a dirty look. “It sound like the best thing. Why anyone would not want to catch Vera virus?” She takes her phone out of her bag and brandishes it at Qiang Wen. “Look! Second video, Robin help me make. She is very good. Has over five hundred thousand views already! That’s half a million you know,” she adds unnecessarily.
“Oh,” Qiang Wen says weakly. “I don’t understand what this has to do with Xander.”
“My bad,” Vera says. “I forget to turn on volume.” She squints at the phone and fiddles with the controls. Loud noise suddenly spills from the phone. “WELCOME TO VERA WONG’S—”