Page 83 of Worth Fighting For

“Yeah, actually.”

Auntie Jiayi smiles. “You young people, always having such big reactions.”

I bite my lip, thinking of how raucous the Li uncles and aunties are around one another.

“Is it really so shocking, this thing?” Auntie Jiayi continues. “James has always wanted to sell the company. His heart’s never been in it.”

“Yeah, but this firm he wants to sell to—they’re not going to keep Wutai Gold’s legacy going.”

Auntie Jiayi sighs. “The Wutai Gold legacy. You ever heard of this saying: Zhong nan qing nu? Heavy male, light female. It means:Men are worth more than women. That is the real Wutai Gold legacy.”

I grow sad listening to Auntie Jiayi. None of this is news to me, of course, but hearing it coming from Auntie Jiayi somehow makes it that much worse.

“For years, my brothers have told me to shut up, be quiet, listen when men are talking. I still care about the company, so when I have good ideas, I suggest it to them. But I can’t just say the idea, oh no. If I did, they will ignore it because it came from a woman. No, I have to say it in little pieces here and there, make them think it’s their own idea. And it’s tiring, but I do it. I sacrifice for the family, because I love them.” Auntie Jiayi sets her teacup down. “But I do not love Wutai Gold.”

I look at Auntie Jiayi, really seeing her for the first time. Not as an auntie, or a mother, or a sister, but as a person in her own right, an individual with her own dreams and goals. For the first time, I see beyond the laugh lines of Auntie Jiayi’s face and I can imagine Auntie Jiayi as a young woman, moving from China to America, full of youthful vibrancy and hope for the future.

“What was it like for you, when you first came here?” I say.

Auntie Jiayi gets a faraway look in her eyes. “Exciting. Oh, so exciting! You know what America is called in Chinese? Mei Guo.Beautiful country.And it is. San Francisco is very beautiful, isn’t it? When I first arrived, I thought: This is a different place. And I will be a different person. I watched the Americans, you know, especially American women. Even the way they walk is different. They walk with a purpose, big strides, like they are all so important, going to important meetings and making important decisions. I thought to myself: Yes, this is who I will be. I will be an important person, too.”

“You are important,” I say, my voice almost breaking with earnestness.

Auntie Jiayi scoffs. “No. I’m not. When I try to walk like them, my brothers and sisters-in-law say: ‘Why are you walking like a man, Jiayi? Walk like a woman. Don’t embarrass us.’ Every time I tried to make a change, they stopped me, they told me don’t be stupid, what would people say? This is a Chinese phrase that people always say: Ren jia kan.Everyone will look.Don’t do this or that, because ren jia kan. Everything I did that was outside of the norm, they’d say: ‘Stop that! Ren jia kan!’ And it would embarrass me enough into stopping, because what could possibly be worse than being judged for being different?” The last few words are said loud enough to turn heads in our direction, and Auntie Jiayi smiles and says, “See? Ren jia kan.”

I nod. I’m familiar with that phrase, too. Not so much from my parents, but from other parents who disapproved of the way that my parents raised me.

“The thing is, I was scared. My husband had passed away, I had a child, and I only had a high school diploma from China. I didn’t speak English like you kids do, so I couldn’t get a real job. So I listened to my brothers. I was—still am—grateful to them for looking after me and Shang. They built Wutai Gold out of nothing, and I thank the Merciful Goddess every day that she has blessed us with this. But what they seem to have forgotten is that it was me who gave them the idea to start a whiskey distillery.”

“What?” I cry. My head spins with this newfound knowledge.

The corners of Auntie Jiayi’s mouth curl up into a small smile. “Oh yes. Back in China, who do you think made all of our baijiu? It was me and the other aunties, of course. We were the ones who harvested the grains and fermented them and built our own homemade distillery using buckets and dough to keep it airtight and all that. All the men ever did was drink the liquor once it was done. What do they know about distillation? We couldn’t find baijiu easily when we first moved here, so I made it in our garage. And one day, I said to my brothers, ‘Why don’t we make bigger batches and sell to our neighbors?’ And so we did.”

“That’s amazing, Auntie,” I say. I still can’t quite digest the enormity of this news. To think that without this woman sitting in front of me there wouldn’t even be a Wutai Gold to speak of is staggering. And knowing the way the men in the family have continuously disparaged and belittled her despite her contributions is enraging. “I’m so sorry that you were never given the recognition you deserve.”

Auntie Jiayi shrugs. “This is their legacy.”

“I hate that they did that to you.”

“Yes, well. It is who they are. It’s okay, I see the younger generation, like you and Shang, and I have hope. You kids are so strong, look at you, Zhou—I mean, Mulan—you stand up straight, you dress like a man, you talk like you know everyone will listen, and they should, because you are a very smart person.”

I look down at my pantsuit. “I dress like a man?”

Auntie Jiayi laughs. “I have been listening to your ideas, you know. During our meetings? You are very capable. My brothers are very foolish to not want to work with you. If they really care about saving their precious legacy, it’s very clear they should work with you.”

“You really like my ideas?” The little kid inside my heart is grinning with excitement at this.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I like your ideas? They are very good.”

Whether it’s the talk or the tea or hearing Auntie Jiayi’s story, the beginning of an idea starts to sprout in my head. “I might have one right now that might prove to your family that I have what it takes to save their brand, but I’m going to need your help.”

Auntie Jiayi leans forward, her eyes shining. Once again, I’m struck by the vibrancy of her. Once more, I see the younger version of Auntie Jiayi, her face bright with a million possibilities, her heart wanting to do something bold, something that will make ren jia kan. And I realize that maybe this isn’t just my second chance, after all. That maybe it’s also Auntie Jiayi’s second chance to make a statement. To finally be heard, and acknowledged for all the wisdom she’s carried with her and shared with her family. To claim her credit for helping build the company into what it is today.

“I am in cahoots with my future daughter-in-law,” Auntie Jiayi says.

I laugh. “Okay, Auntie, calm down, you’re going kind of fast for me.”

“We talk business now.”

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