Page 57 of Worth Fighting For

James snorts. “That sounds like corporate bullshit forYou don’t get a say in anything, suckers.”

“Not at all,” I say with a patient smile. I’ve watched my father reassure skittish clients enough times to know exactly what he would say in this situation. “A company that isn’t happy is not going to be profitable for long, so we take satisfaction very seriously.”

“Ah, very good,” Uncle Hong says. “You know, over the years, we have had many offers to buy our company. But this is the first time we seriously considered it, because I think it’s important to get along with whoever acquires us. I like you, Zhou. Here is to a bright future ahead!” He raises his beer can and everyone, except James, reaches out and clinks their cans together. I try my best to ignore the guilt and anxiety writhing in my guts at the thought of abright future ahead. For the hundredth time, I curse myself for coming up with this harebrained idea to fool them into thinking I’m Zhou. I will never be able to face the Lis again once the deal goes through.

Once the ramen is all slurped up, dessert is brought out—Chinese Rice Krispies. Instead of melted marshmallow as the binder, they’ve used maltose syrup and also added roasted sesame seeds to the puffed rice to give it a rich, nutty flavor. I have two big pieces before I feel like my stomach is about to burst, then I settle back with a mug of hot milk tea. There is a comfortable lull in the conversation as everyone slips into a food coma, and for a while, the only sounds in the air are the crackling of the fire and the occasional hoot of some animal deep in the wilderness. When I look up into the sky, I’m lost in thousands of stars. There are so many of them, and each one shining so brilliantly that they form a river. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so at peace.

“When we start working together,” Auntie Jiayi says, “that is, if we do go ahead with it, I would love to tell you some of my ideas, Zhou.”

I perk up. “I would love—”

“Pah, what ideas do you have for the Wutai brand?” Uncle Hong snaps. “Let the professionals handle it.”

My stomach knots up.What would Baba—But then I realize that, actually, I don’t care what my dad might say in this situation. My mouth opens, and words flow out before I can stop them. “Actually, Auntie Jiayi, I would love to hear any ideas you might have. Some of the best ideas we’ve received have come from the most unexpected sources.” I smile warmly at Auntie Jiayi, who nods at me with gratitude.

“Welp, this is gonna be a disaster,” James mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.

I turn to him and give him a smile as sweet as arsenic. “I would love to hear any ideas you might have as well, James.”

From the corner of my eye, I notice Shang coughing. It looks suspiciously like Shang is trying to hide his grin.

“Ooh,” Auntie Chuang says, “do I spy a hint of romance between you and James?”

I gape at her. Could Auntie Chuang be any more clueless?

“James, she said she would love to hear any ideas you might have,” Auntie Chuang says enthusiastically. “When a girl says that, she means—”

“I meant I would love to hear any ideasanyonehere might have,” I cut in. There. That should resolve that.

Thankfully, the conversation moves on to other things, and I nod at Auntie Jiayi, who is gazing at me with a curious expression. For the first time, I find myself wondering about Auntie Jiayi’s backstory. I know from Shang that her husband has passed away, and I wonder how that has affected Auntie Jiayi’s life. It’s obvious to me that Auntie Jiayi is a treasure trove of good ideas, especially because Auntie Jiayi is one of life’s observers, like me. She isn’t loud or showy like her brothers. She prefers to stay in the background, and I would love to know what it is that Auntie Jiayi has observed and what conclusions she’s come to.

After a while, Uncle Hong gets up, stretching and yawning. The other uncles, aunties, and cousins follow suit, yawning loudly and saying good nights all around. Even Mushu leaves as well, telling everyone who will listen that it takes nine hours of sleep to wake up looking as fabulous as she does.

Not wanting to leave the comfort of the fire and still lost in the sea of stars, I stay put, calling out good night to everyone else. When I next look down from watching the night sky, I find that only Shang remains, gazing at me with an expression so soft and full of tenderness that my heart, going at a steady pace just moments ago, suddenly slams itself into my rib cage.

“Hey,” I say. “Sorry, were you waiting for me to go to, uh…” I falter. I was about to saybedwhen it hit me how intimate that sounded. “To, um, the tent?” I say finally.

“Sort of, yeah. I mean, it’s a small space and I wanted to make sure, uh, everything’s okay before…you know.”

Heat rises in my cheeks, and it has nothing to do with the campfire. But I’m also realizing that Shang is nervous, and this knowledge makes me bite my lower lip with glee. Part of me wants to bury my face in a pillow and squeal. Clearly, the part of me that failed to go through puberty.

“Right, sure. Of course.” I stand up and my foot knocks over my half-full cup. Tea spills onto the ground. “Oops.” I pick it up and notice my hand is trembling ever so slightly.

Shang doesn’t seem to notice, walking toward our tent with his hands in his pockets. But once we’re both inside, he turns to me and says, “Zhou, I just want you to know that—”

“Yeah?” We are so close, so painfully near each other right now. So close that I can hear the brush of his sweater sleeve against his torso, can hear every breath he takes. My own heartbeat sounds as clear as a drum.

“I, uh—I won’t try anything funny tonight,” Shang says, and he looks so solemn, so earnest, that I snort. Then, before I know it, I’m doubling over, laughing my ass off. “What?” Shang says, looking mystified.

“Sorry. I just—You looked so sincere.”

“That’s because I was being sincere. Is that a bad thing?”

I can only shake my head as I bend over, trying to stifle my giggles. “No,” I wheeze finally. “It’s not a bad thing. Thank you for the reassurance. I wasn’t worried about that, by the way.”

“Okay, great.” Shang gets on his knees and unzips his backpack. He takes out a small baggie and pauses. “Um, I only have one toothbrush.”

“Oh no. Are we going to have to share a toothbrush?”

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