Picking the Golden Romance

Singapore

"It's finally here, our fairy couple!" Mavis Wen called when Astrid and Mike walked into the entrance of the Colonial Club Hotel's main hall.

Mike wore a well-ironed Richard James navy blue suit, and Astrid wore a silk tulle persimmon orange straight-cut long dress. The two became the most dazzling focus as soon as they entered the stage.The silent excitement of the women rippled through the room as usual, and they surveyed Astrid from head to toe calmly; the men stared at Mike with envy and mockery.

"Oh, Astrid, why is it so late?" Felicity Liang scolded her daughter.By the time they approached the banquet table next to the wall of awards, the Liang family and their distinguished guests from Kuala Lumpur - Tan Sri Gordon Wen and Pan Sri Mavis Wan - were already seated.

"I'm sorry, because Mike's flight back from China was delayed." Astrid expressed apology, "You didn't wait for us to come to order, did you? It always takes a long time to serve food here."

"Astrid, come, come here, let me see you." Mavis greeted.With her high bun and cheeks full of makeup, the imperious lady looked like she could easily win over Imelda Marcos

The winner of the imitation contest.She patted Astrid on the face like a little girl, and began her usual compliment: "Oh, you haven't changed a bit since I last saw you! How's little Cassian? You When's the next one? Don't wait too long. Now you're going to have another daughter for company, you know? My ten year old granddaughter Bella has come to adore you since she came back from Singapore last time and she keeps telling me, 'Grandma, I want to be like Astrid when I grow up', asked her why, and she said, 'Because she always dresses like a movie star. Mike has a good physique and is handsome!'" The whole table suddenly There was a roar of laughter.

"Don't everyone want to be like Astrid with a lot of money for clothes and like Mike with eight-pack abs?" quipped Astrid's brother Alexander.

Harry Liang raised his head from the menu in front of him, glanced at Mike, and beckoned him over.His graying hair and tan made him look like a lion at the guest table, and Mike approached his father-in-law with as much awe as ever.

Handing his son-in-law a pack of padded envelopes, Harry said, "This is my MacBook Air, and it does something weird with Wi-Fi."

"What's weird exactly? Can't find the right network, or can't log in?" Mike asked.

Harry had already turned his attention back to the menu in front of him: "What? Oh, it seems that it doesn't work. It was set by you at the beginning, and I didn't change any settings. Please take a look for me--Felicity, When was the last time I had lamb chops here? Is the meat often overcooked here?"

When Mike obediently returned to his seat with the laptop, Astrid's eldest brother Henry grabbed his coat sleeve: "Hey, Mike, I hate to bother you, but you can come to my house this weekend for a while." Are you coming? There is something wrong with Sackley’s Xbox, and I would like to ask you to fix it—it’s too troublesome to send it back to the factory in Japan for repair.”

"I may be on a business trip this weekend. If not, I will go there." Mike said lightly.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" interrupted Henry's wife, Catherine. "We're dying of the Sackley Xbox problem."

"Is Mike good at fixing little machines and stuff?" Mavis asked.

"Oh, he's a genius, Mavis, a genius! He's the best son-in-law - he can fix anything!" said Harry.

Mike smiled awkwardly as Mavis stared at him.

"I thought he was a soldier."

"Aunt Mavis, Mike used to work in the Ministry of Defense, responsible for the setup of high-tech weapon systems." Astrid said.

"Yes, the fate of our country's ballistic defense is in Mike's hands. If we are invaded by enemies from all directions, the country can go to war within 10 minutes." Alexander joked.

Mike tried his best to hide the displeasure on his face, and opened the heavy leather-bound menu in front of him.

This month's culinary theme is "Italian Flavors of Amalfi", so mostly Italian dishes. Vongole, Mike knows that the word means "clam", but what is this Paccheri alla Ravello, will it die with the English translation?This kind of thing is very common in old-fashioned sports clubs in Singapore. It is not only pretentious, but also continues the tradition of the Edwardian era——

Women can't spy on the bars men go to - feel complacent.This tradition was not abolished until [-].

When Mike was a teenager, he would play football every week on the lawn in front of the Government House, where the National Day Parade is usually held every year.Mike would often look curiously at the magnificent Victorian-style building on the east side of the lawn. From the position of the goalkeeper, he could see the splendid chandelier inside the house, and the flat white tablecloths with dishes on silver plates. Waiters in black tuxedos hurried up and down.He'd watch his VIP-seeming guests enjoy their dinner, guessing who they were.He would love to go into that club, just once, so that he can look out the window over there and see the football field in its entirety.

He once worked up the courage to ask two of his friends to sneak in with him: just pick a time before practice, take off your St. Andrew's uniform, change into civilian clothes, and sneak in pretending to be members of the club, And who's going to stop them from ordering drinks at the bar then?
"Don't dream, Zhang, don't you know what it is? It's the Colonial Club Hotel! If you're not a foreigner, or you're born into a super-rich family, you won't be able to get in," said one of his buddies.

"Gordon and I sold our membership to the Colonial Club because I found out we were only here to eat Nyonya red bean ice
That's all. ' Mike heard Mavis say to his mother-in-law, Felicity.

Now I would give anything just to be back on that football field with my friends.Mike called secretly in his heart.There they can play football together until sunset, then head to the nearest coffee shop for a cold beer and some nasi goreng or rice noodles; Super expensive food ok!

Everyone sitting at this table pays little attention to the price of the meal-the Wens own almost half of Malaysia; as for Astrid and her two brothers, Mike has never seen them pay bill.They are adults and have kids of their own, but their father Liang always settles the bills (their Zhang brothers and sisters would never let their parents pay the bills).

How long will this meal be?
Since they had a continental dinner, there would be a total of four courses, and in this club, one course equals an hour!Mike stared at his menu again.God!There was even a nasty salad.Has anyone ever heard of a salad served after the main course?This means that there will be five courses in the end.

Mavis would complain about her gout, then his mother-in-law would complain about her calcaneal spurs, and the next thing the two women would complain about their chronic illnesses, desperately trying to outdo each other.Cheers time afterward—his father-in-law would babble about how insightful the Wens were on family life, and then it would be Gordon Wing’s return to the Liangs for the same reason; and then Henry Jr. Toast to his son Gordon Jr. - the guy who was caught with a 15-year-old school girl in Langkawi last year.It would be a miracle that this dinner would be over by 11:30.

Astrid looked across the table at her husband to see Mike sitting upright, with the smile he forced when he was talking to Bishop Spiegel's wife.She knew his look well - she had seen him when they were first invited to tea at Granny's house and had dinner with the President at the Presidential Palace in Singapore.

Obviously, Mike is very eager to leave this place immediately, or is he hoping to be here with someone else?So, who is this "other"?Ever since she found that text message that night, Astrid couldn't help but think wildly.

I miss you so much inside of me.

The text message was deleted the next morning. She wished that this text message could also be deleted in her mind, but her mind couldn't forget it. Unless she unlocked the meaning behind this sentence, she would not be able to live a good life at all. .

For the first few days, Astrid tried to convince herself that there must be some rational explanation.It was actually an inadvertent mistake, someone passed the wrong number, or some prank or personal joke that she couldn't understand...

She started calling Mike occasionally during work hours, scribbling up silly questions or reasons to make sure he was where he said he was, and taking fleeting chances to check his phone, in that precious place. Frantically click on every text message in a few minutes.However, she has never seen other text messages indicating "criminal evidence".

Was he covering up the evidence, or was he just being paranoid?For weeks, Astrid had been watching Mike's every expression, every word, and every movement, looking for a symptom, or even a hint of something that even she couldn't tell what it was.However, she finds nothing, everything in their happy life seems normal.

until this afternoon—

Mike came home from the airport and complained about the flight he took as soon as he entered the door: the plane was old, and he was squeezed in the middle of the last row of seats the whole time, and he couldn't adjust the back of the seat, which made his back hurt.Astrid advised her husband to take a hot bath first and add some Epsom salts to the water.As soon as he left, Astrid immediately started to check his luggage, searching for something aimlessly.

She opened his wallet and found a folded piece of paper under the plastic flap of the inner Singapore ID card—it was the receipt for the dinner the day before yesterday at the Petui Restaurant in Hong Kong, which cost 810 taels in total. Hong Kong dollars, almost the expenses of two people.

Someone who was supposed to be working on a crowdsourcing project in Chongqing, Southwest China, went to the most luxurious French restaurant in Hong Kong for dinner, and especially chose this place where he usually had to be forced to go. for what?It is impossible for his financially strapped partners to agree to choose such an expensive restaurant, even if they treat top clients to dinner (not to mention, even if they choose, no Chinese client will be willing to eat French-style new dining).

Astrid stared at the receipt for a moment - signed in thick dark blue on white paper, signed with the kada pen she had given him for his birthday last year!

She was suddenly at a loss, and felt her heart beating faster, as if it was about to burst through her chest.She pictured Mike sitting in a candle-lit room on the top floor of the Island Shangri-La Hotel, looking out at the brightly lit Victoria Harbour, having a romantic dinner with the woman who texted: Kate Dokin first Like chocolate with Burgundy wine, and enjoy a warm dark chocolate soufflé filled with frozen lemon cream for two.

She wanted to rush into the bathroom and hold the receipt in front of him in the bathtub; she wanted to scream and scratch his skin with her fingernails.She didn't, however.

She took a deep breath to regain her composure, the calm demeanor she had had since the day she was born.She'll stay sane, knowing she doesn't have to cry and demand explanations.Any trivial explanation may cause cracks in their happy life.

She folded the receipt carefully and put it back where it had been hidden, hoping that the paper would disappear from his wallet and her mind.

Just disappear.