Chapter 5: The Penalty Cups

Two hundred guests sat under red lanterns in the Ji hall, and every one of them was watching the head table.

Rongan sat at its center in a black wedding suit that finally fit.

The tailor had needed three days. The sleeves ended exactly at his wrists.

Wenzhou sat on his right, in black too, with a red silk flower pinned at his chest.

Sitting down, the gap between them was a hand's width. Everyone had noticed, and everyone was being polite about it for now.

His brother, at the family table below, gave him a thumbs up.

Rongan did not know what to do with his hands. He laid them flat on the cloth.

Under the cloth, Wenzhou's fingers found his knee and rested there.

"Breathe, Captain," Wenzhou said, not turning his head.

"I'm breathing."

"Then keep doing it. The next half hour is mine."

Across the hall a chair scraped.

Lu Jinghan stood at the Zhao table with a wine cup raised, in full dress uniform, the Harbor Cross bright on his chest.

"Friends," he called. "A toast to the happy pair!"

The hall quieted. Zhao Dechang, beside him, folded his hands and smiled.

"May the groom's stool never wobble," Lu said. "And may the bride never have to stoop!"

The laugh rolled across Zhao's side of the hall and broke against the walls.

Rongan's hands pressed harder into the cloth.

On his knee, Wenzhou's fingers squeezed once and let go.

Wenzhou stood.

He took his time. He set down his napkin and straightened his waistcoat, and the laughter thinned as he did it.

"Lieutenant Lu," he said. "You've mocked my table."

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