“Let’s not complicate things. Let Zhuang Laoshi and his wife drink their toast,” Tang said with a smile. She reached out to shoo away the fly, which had landed on a plate of pig’s feet, sending it straight into Niu Yueqing’s cup.
When Niu Yueqing looped arms with her husband, a dark shadow flickered between Tang Wan’er’s brows. She was jealous. She noticed that although Niu Yueqing was getting on in years, she had the face of someone born into good fortune. She had heard that Zhuang’s wife was a beauty, which was true, and yet she thought that all those fine features looked uninteresting on her face, like expensive ingredients that may not be tasty when cooked together. Then she thought some more about her own features; her skin was fairer, but her eyes were smaller, her nose was not as straight, and her mouth was bigger. But when everything was put together, her features overall looked better than Niu Yueqing’s. Everyone froze when the fly fell into the hostess’s cup, everyone but Tang, who was buoyed by the occurrence. “You should have a larger cup, Shimu,” she said with a smile. “Here, take mine.”
She swapped cups with Niu Yueqing, emptying the contents of the contaminated cup under the table. After finishing her toast with Zhuang, Yueqing was grateful to Wan’er and brought a bottle to refill her cup.
“These people all know each other, Wan’er, so I don’t have to take care of them. You and Liu Yue, on the other hand, are new, so make yourselves at home. I’ll be upset if you don’t.”
“Of course I will,” Wan’er said. “Here’s to you, Shimu. Since you couldn’t make it to our place last time, I’ll have you over in a few days.”
They drank to each other. Not much of a drinker, Niu Yueqing felt her face burn after a couple of cups. Wan’er stopped her before she could go into the bedroom to check herself in a mirror.
“That red is more becoming on you than if you’d put rouge on your cheeks.”
The women reached their limit after three rounds, while Zhou, Zhao, and Zhuang were unaffected.
“You’re here today to drink, so don’t disappoint me,” Zhuang said. “Let’s play a drinking game. We’ll follow the old rules by taking turns reciting idioms.”
“This is all new to me,” Liu Yue said.
“New how?” Tang Wan’er asked her.
“Before I came here, I often wondered about life in an intellectual’s house. Now that I’m here, I realize that you say all sorts of things, like ordinary people, but then you act differently at the table. When I went to dinners in the past, I saw people play finger-guessing games or a game of the weak fighting the strong. I’ve never heard of an idiom game. How does it work?”
“It’s simple,” Zhuang replied. “The first person offers an expression, and the next person has to use the ending to begin a new idiom. Homophones are acceptable. We keep it going until someone fails and has to drink a penalty.”
“I’ll get Meng Laoshi to play for me,” Liu Yue said.
“You young people all have at least a high school education, Liu Yue,” Niu Yueqing said. “So you should be able to follow along. I’m the only one who won’t be able to.”
Meng heard the exchange and spoke up from the kitchen, “As the saying goes, sleep with the master and you’ll learn the tricks. So you have no excuse.”
Niu Yueqing cursed Meng, as Zhuang announced the beginning of the game by offering the first expression, “Honored guests fill the hall,” followed by Zhao, who said, “The hall is all gussied up,” followed by Zhou Min’s “Upward and onward,” followed by Liu Yue’s “Onward with Lord Ye, who loved dragons,” followed by Xia Jie’s “Dragons brought relieving rain,” and by Wang’s wife’s “Rainy days are over.”
“That won’t do,” Xia Jie objected. “‘Rain’ and ‘rainy’ aren’t the same. Besides, you made it up.”
“That’s all right; it’s acceptable.” Zhuang said.
Tang Wan’er was next. She looked stuck and was deep in thought, her eyes fixed on Zhuang. Suddenly she said, “Over my dead body.”
“Good,” Zhuang said.
Next came Niu Yueqing, who said, “Body, body, body what? Bodyguard.”
Everyone laughed, and someone said, “Bodyguard doesn’t work. Drink up.”
Niu Yueqing downed a cupful and started a new round. “I have one. Body and soul. Let’s use that, body and soul.”
Zhuang said, “Soul searching,” followed by Zhao’s “Searching high and low,” Zhou Min’s “Lo and behold,” Liu Yue’s “Behold the power of one,” Xia Jie’s “One of these days,” Wang’s wife’s “Days of our lives,” and Tang Wan’er’s “Lives and deaths.” That startled Zhuang, which made Tang laugh. The others joined in. She offered a new one, “Lives of fire.”
“Good,” Zhuang said.
“Good means not bad,” Niu Yueqing said, to which the others objected.
“That’s not an expression. Drink up and we’ll start over.”
“Didn’t I say this is not for me? Now I’m going to finish that bottle all by myself. Tang Wan’er comes before me and keeps giving me hard ones. I’m going to sit somewhere else.”
“Come sit next to me, Dajie,” Liu Yue said. “I will give you easy ones, and Tang Wan’er can make it hard on Zhuang Laoshi.”
Niu Yueqing got up and sat next to Liu Yue. “Let me start again,” she said. “Good fortune abounds like the open sky,” followed by Xia Jie’s “Sky’s the limit,” and so on. Yueqing was stumped again and picked up her cup to drink. The others commented on the hostess’s honesty, but she was drinking all the liquor meant for the guests. She laughed as her body went limp; she grabbed the edge of the table, but her legs carried her body down.
“She’s drunk.” She was already on the floor. Some of the guests rushed over to offer tea and vinegar, but Zhuang said, “She’ll be fine when she sleeps it off. Now that the hostess got drunk first, whoever loses must drink up — no exceptions. Xia Jie, it’s your turn.”
After finishing the vegetarian meal he’d made for himself, Meng Yunfang came out of the kitchen.
“What’s the matter with you all?” he said. “What’s with all those inauspicious expressions? I’ll tell you what, you all take care of yourselves by picking up your cups and drinking toasts to each other. Then I’ll bring you some hot food and rice.”
They stood up and downed their drinks, their faces as red as peach blossoms, all except Zhou Min, whose face looked washed out. Meng brought out a table full of hot food, and when they had eaten their fill, he served a fish soup with dried longans. As everyone reached out with their spoons, Zhuang said, “Yueqing’s performance today was the worst, so naturally she had to get drunk. Now we vote for the best performance and let that person have the first taste of the delicious soup.”
“We won’t object if you want Tang Wan’er to enjoy the soup first, so we can skip your little scheme,” Xia Jie said.
“I didn’t do as well as Xia Jie,” Tang Wan’er said. “As a playwright and drama director, she has a ton of expressions in her belly.”
“Oh, so that’s what’s in there. I’ve always thought her belly was a bit too big and told her to get up early each day to exercise,” Meng quipped.
Xia Jie went over and pinched her husband’s ear. “So you think I’m fat, do you? Got your eyes on some willow-waisted woman? You’d better come clean now.”
With his ear in his wife’s hand, Meng continued to eat. “It’s a sign of love when this wife of mine hits me or yells at me.”