The car began moving toward the exit. Xingyu was relaxed in his seat, leaning back, one hand playing with the lines of his seatbelt. When Xiaokai’s eyes met his, he lifted one corner of his mouth in an infuriating half-smile. “After all that time studying abroad,” he said, “what do you think? Should we get a drink and catch up?”

Xiaokai pushed his hands between his knees to hide their shaking.

2

THE BROTHER

UNFORTUNATELY FOR XIAOKAI, he was really very far from perfect.

He somehow managed to convince Xingyu that it was in both their best interests for Xingyu to go home first, set himself up, and then he could go to the company after getting some rest—or, even better, he could simply meet everyone else at dinner, and not disturb Liu Baiyan at work. Xingyu did not take much convincing—another comforting thing, Xiaokai thought, that Xingyu still had not mastered debate against Xiaokai—and agreed to at least unpack before he made any more decisions.

“But where are you going?” he’d asked. “Can’t you stay here with me?” Xiaokai didn’t answer; he was already on his way to remedy the business deal he’d earlier missed.

There were two strategies this young fu’erdai used to handle business. The first he learned from Liu Baiyan when he was almost thirteen: he was to be perfectly calm and poised, faintly humorous but not offensively so. What wasn’t strictly about business should only pertain to the pre-approved personal matters of the potential business partner—asking about the kids, the wife, the husband, the dog. Xiaokai was an expert at this. Liu Baiyan had an impressive document full of all the information of every current or potential business party he could possibly think of and Xiaokai had memorized it all, and when it updated as these sorts of documents always must, he had those memorized as well. It was a delicate affair, one that required grace, adaptability, and constant, careful perception, all of which Xiaokai had been practicing since childhood at Liu Baiyan’s elaborate dinner banquets.

The second strategy, he learned from Sun Yue, his mother. This was a less delicate affair, but it required just as much concentration and just as much preparation. This was a special strategy—one that could only be employed with the most special of partners, all in a list that Sun Yue and Liu Incorporated had been involved in for the last fifty-some years, maybe more. Xiaokai had never been brave enough to ask how deep it went.

It was this strategy that he needed to use on this business partner, because this partner was on that list.

Liu Xiaokai was not perfect.