The Great Voyage (2)
The captain’s dinner on a cruise ship is usually held either on the evening of the first day at sea or on the final day of the voyage. Depending on the style of each cruise line, the format of the dinner also varies. Some are relaxed parties, some are approachable communal banquets, while the captain’s dinner aboard the Queen Anne adheres to its British classical aesthetic and takes the form of a court ball. Both dress and etiquette are held to strict standards.
So when Tan Guhong arrived at the entrance to the banquet hall, the attendant waiting outside found himself in a small dilemma.
The dress code required men to wear suits and women to wear evening gowns. Yet the young Chinese woman before him was dressed in a sharply tailored suit.
Though the tall, short-haired woman looked crisp and striking in the black suit accented with fine white pinstripes, impeccably put together, he was unsure whether it met the rules. As he hesitated, fortunately the restaurant manager appeared in time to rescue him.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“Manager, it’s just that, you see—”
“You may be hosting a vintage cruise and a vintage dinner, but surely your thinking hasn’t become vintage as well,” Tan Guhong said with a faint smile. “Who says a woman’s suit can’t count as formal wear?”
The manager fell silent for a few seconds, then gave a slight bow in apology. “My apologies, that was our oversight. There is no rule stating that women may not wear trousers to the dinner. As long as it is formal attire, it is within the acceptable range. Please, go ahead—”
With that, he gestured her inside. Tan Guhong inclined her head in acknowledgment and entered the banquet hall together with her companion.
Tonight’s dinner was held in the ship’s main ballroom. The vast hall spanned the height of three decks, grand crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A long wooden staircase carpeted in soft fabric spiraled downward, and at the center of the hall stood a towering champagne fountain. Exquisite wine racks displayed fine vintages from around the world. A band played gentle music nearby, while a French chef prepared dishes on the spot. The dinner had not yet officially begun; elegantly dressed guests streamed in, gathering in small groups, chatting and laughing.
Sophie, who had her arm looped through Tan Guhong’s, could not help but complain. “Tam, the British really have too many rules. This isn’t allowed, that isn’t allowed. Look at the red carpets in America, actresses just wear whatever they want.”
The young woman, blonde and blue-eyed with a striking figure, had met Tan Guhong earlier that day at the opera. She had been snoring thunderously in the seat beside her, and Tan Guhong, unable to bear it any longer, had woken her up. That was how they became acquainted.
According to Sophie, she was a minor actress living in Los Angeles, someone who had appeared in a few unnoticed, poorly received films. By sheer luck, she had won a round-the-world cruise ticket in a chips promotion. So she dressed herself up and boarded the ship, hoping to seize the chance for a romantic encounter.
“Ah! Cheesecake!”
Sophie suddenly spotted a row of exquisite desserts nearby, her eyes lighting up. Then she seemed to remember something and deflated. “I starved myself for three days just to fit into this strapless dress. If I eat a slice of cake, I’ll probably burst out of it in front of everyone.”
She let out a mournful wail, her expression full of despair. “But I’m really hungry!”
“If you’re hungry, then eat. Why insist on wearing something so tight?”
“So it shows off my curves!” Sophie shrugged, smoothing her golden curls. “Directors still have such outdated tastes. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a sexy figure. Girls like that are everywhere in Los Angeles, nothing special. If you’re not like that, it’s hard to even get an extra role.”
Tan Guhong stroked her chin, observing her for a moment before asking, “Is your hair dyed?”
A bit of brown had already grown in at the roots.
“Of course not!”
Sophie let out a small shriek, then immediately glanced around guiltily to see if anyone had heard. Once she confirmed no one was paying attention, she relaxed, cleared her throat, and leaned close to Tan Guhong’s ear to whisper:
“My chest is padded too.”
“…Oh.”
Tan Guhong did not know whether to laugh or cry. This girl was so straightforward she seemed almost missing a screw, and she was absurdly quick to treat strangers like old friends. She claimed approaching someone alone felt too deliberate and unnatural, so she had insisted on dragging Tan Guhong along as company.
“So, after looking around, have you found a target?” Sophie teased.
“Ah, I’ve been too busy talking to you. Let me take a proper look—”
So, while the banquet had yet to begin, the two of them stood by the second-floor railing, conducting a thorough survey and appraisal of the men in the hall. Whether it was keen insight or pure guesswork, Tan Guhong listened as Sophie, half joking and half serious, analyzed who was the “best scumbag,” whose wife was going through menopause, who was secretly in love with the woman beside him, and who was looking for a one-night stand.
When Luo Jingming arrived, this was the scene he saw.
Amid a hall full of dazzlingly dressed men and women, she alone stood in stark black and white, cool and aloof, her presence exceptional. A sparkling diamond stud adorned her right ear. Her well-fitted suit outlined her upright figure. She held half a glass of champagne, leaning casually against a pillar, one pair of carved short-heeled Oxford shoes resting lightly on the wrought-iron railing. Surrounded by laughter and music, she stood within it, yet watched it all with a detached gaze.
She was the defiance of a noisy world, the traitor to its restless dust.
He stood there in the shadows, silent, motionless, watching her for a long time before finally stepping forward.
The moment he set foot on the staircase, Tan Guhong lifted her eyes and saw him. Smiling, she asked Sophie beside her, “What about this one?”
Sophie turned to look, then answered without hesitation. “Custom suit, limited-edition watch, top-tier wealth! Well-proportioned body, handsome face… mixed heritage? Excellent looks! Steady gaze, doesn’t even glance at passing busty women, low playboy index! Perfect! Tam, please give him to me, I’ll owe you one, okay?”
Tan Guhong laughed. “I’m not competing. Be my guest.”
“Thank you so much! But I still need a small favor from you. Here, look at me, stay natural, smile… okay!”
As she spoke, Luo Jingming had already reached them. Sophie turned around naturally, raising her glass to him with a smile, her posture just so, making the cleavage at her chest even more pronounced.
“Hello, my friend just made a bet with me. She said that if I turned around, I would see the most handsome man in the room. Do you think she won?”
Tan Guhong: “Hey!” Was there really any need to drag her into this?
Luo Jingming clearly had not expected this either, his expression freezing for a moment. Then he looked at Tan Guhong with a half-smile and replied in oddly accented English:
“Miss, eight hundred for the night.”
“Pfft—” Tan Guhong immediately spat out her drink.
Sophie’s expression stiffened. Then she turned back and whispered to Tan Guhong, “Damn it! Misjudged him. But I still kind of want to sleep with him for a night. What do I do?”
Tan Guhong laughed so hard she was nearly out of breath, bracing herself against the railing with one hand. Then she saw Luo Jingming step up beside her, wrap an arm around her shoulders, and say to Sophie with a smile:
“Sorry, I was referring to this lady.”
Sophie stared back and forth between the two of them, stunned, before realization dawned.
“Tam, so you two are a couple!”
Tan Guhong brushed his hand off her shoulder without a trace and said calmly, “We’re not.”
The banquet soon began. The ship’s senior staff entered, introduced one by one by the host. Then the captain stood on the mid-level landing of the staircase on the first floor and delivered a speech. The guests listened with pleasure, waves of applause rising, along with cheers of “captain.”
Sophie had already found her next target and rushed off to make her move, leaving only Tan Guhong and Luo Jingming behind.
“You’re not attending?” she asked.
“On a ship, the captain is the absolute authority. Tonight belongs to the captain’s dinner,” he replied.
She nodded, then asked, “And what kind of strange English was that just now?”
“Thai English.”
She laughed despite herself. “Do you know a lot of different English accents?”
“A little…” he said with a smile. “You should know Chinatown is a pretty mixed place. It’s not just Chinese people. Some things, you pick up naturally after hearing them often enough.”
“For example?”
“For example, Japanese-accented English, Singaporean English. Oh, and Indian English too. Want to hear a few lines?”
“Never mind, spare me.”
She meant no offense, but just hearing those words alone made her feel as if a waft of curry had hit her face.
As the captain and his wife began the opening dance below in the hall, the ball officially commenced.
One of the cruise’s senior staff approached Luo Jingming with a female companion to exchange pleasantries. He was an American man in his early thirties named William. As he spoke, his gaze kept drifting toward Tan Guhong at the side, his expression carrying a hint of amused interest. At last, he could not help asking:
“Mr. Lone, would you mind if I invited this beautiful… no, handsome lady to dance?”
Luo Jingming gave no clear response. Taking it as tacit consent, the man stepped forward and extended his hand to Tan Guhong.
“May I—”
Tan Guhong lowered her eyes to glance at his hand, let out a soft laugh, and said unhurriedly, “Sorry, I mind very much.”
While William was still stunned, she had already set down her glass and walked straight up to his companion.
“May I have your name?”
“Christine.”
“Alright, Miss Christine, would you do me the honor of a dance?” She extended her hand politely.
Christine looked slightly surprised, but quickly broke into a radiant smile. She shot her partner a provocative glance, then placed her hand in Tan Guhong’s palm without hesitation.
“Of course!”
And so, to the flowing strains of a waltz, the two of them slipped into the dance floor together.
Watching the woman in a suit lead with effortless ease, dancing the man’s part with flair, William stood dumbfounded, his pride a little bruised. He could not help turning to Luo Jingming.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Of course…” Luo Jingming cast him a sidelong glance with a faint smile. “You’re mistaken. Whether I mind or not has nothing to do with her.”
She was telling him plainly that she would not belong to anyone, would not be bound by anyone. She was a solitary wild goose, alone in form and shadow, content in it.
…
That night, Tan Guhong had a great deal of fun. After Christine, she changed partners several times in succession. There was Sophie, whom she knew, and strangers she did not. There were men and women alike. The music, too, was unconstrained. It began with standard waltzes and ballroom dances, but as time passed, the atmosphere grew more relaxed and lively. People stopped adhering to formal steps, joining hands and dancing together in a cheerful swirl to lively American country music.
Music was the art most capable of dissolving cultural barriers. Their skin colors differed, their languages did not match, yet all of them felt a simple joy rising from within as they moved to the rhythm.
The night deepened. As another song ended, Tan Guhong released the dark-skinned girl in front of her. The young girl lifted her skirt and gave a proper curtsey; Tan Guhong smiled and returned the courtesy with a bow, one hand placed behind her back.
During a pause in the music, many people began to leave one after another. Tan Guhong also intended to end her revelry here. She was already very tired, her body damp with sweat. She longed to return, sink into a bathtub, soak in a comfortable hot bath, and then sleep a long, undisturbed, indulgent sleep.
She had just turned and taken two steps when her waist suddenly tightened, and she was pulled back, half against her will.
She turned, meeting Luo Jingming’s dark eyes, lit with a trace of laughter.
“Mr. Luo, that’s hardly gentlemanly behavior.”
“But if I keep being a gentleman, someone will slip away without a sound.”
He placed her left hand on his shoulder, took her right hand in his, and said leisurely,
“Look, tonight you’ve been both the best prince and the best princess in the room, and I haven’t had a single person come invite me to dance. Shouldn’t you be at least a little fair?”
She did not resist his movements, only found it somewhat amusing. “You, lacking dance partners?”
He did not answer, only asked instead,
“Do you dance tango?”
“Why do you think I do?”
“I remember you studied abroad in Argentina for a year.”
“And?”
“The Pampas is the birthplace of tango.”
She laughed. “Alright. A little.”
Those who had lived there were rarely untouched by the local tango culture. It was primal, wild, brimming with vitality, a dance of entwined bodies where passion could ignite at any moment.
“Why ask?”
“Because at midnight, it’s time for tango.”
“Wait, I haven’t danced in a long time…”
“It’s fine…” There was laughter in his eyes as he removed his glasses with one hand and slipped them into the pocket of his shirt. In a low voice, he said,
“Follow my steps. I’ll lead you.”
As his words fell, the tall standing clock in the hall began to chime.
Dong. Dong. Dong.
Twelve times in all. Cinderella’s magic was about to fade, the feast of vampires about to begin. After a brief hush, the soft strains of a violin slowly rose.
It was Spain’s most famous tango, “Por Una Cabeza.”
Countless scenes from old films flooded the mind, tinged with the deep solitude of midnight, with splendor and desolation intertwined. In that moment, amid the sea of people, only the two of them remained.
Luo Jingming’s hand at Tan Guhong’s waist tightened slightly, drawing them instantly closer. He lowered his gaze; she lifted hers. Their feet began to move slowly with the music, yet their eyes stayed locked, neither looking away.
Suddenly, firm, resonant piano notes cut in, weaving with the violin’s melody. The music surged, and the dance shifted from lingering intimacy to intensity. He advanced, she retreated. He pursued, she evaded. She pulled away, he drew her back. He gazed, she glanced over her shoulder. She smiled, he answered with a faint laugh. He led her through turns and dips; she brushed close to him, their temples nearly touching.
Who was it that said a tango was like a love between a man and a woman? From meeting to encounter, from attraction to pursuit. Guessing, circling, hesitating, testing. You come, I go. You retreat, I advance. Skin meets skin, entangled to the brink of ruin.
At last, after all currents have passed, like wild geese leaving no trace, like clouds dispersing after rain, the music ended, and so did the dance.
Applause and cheers rose all around.
Supported firmly by his arm, she slowly straightened. Their eyes met, their gazes overlapping, breaths mingling. Clearly, unmistakably, they saw themselves reflected in each other’s eyes, along with the countless unspoken emotions between them.
Like a sky full of trembling stars on the verge of falling, sinking at last into the vast ocean, returning to boundless darkness and silence.
✦
m&m: highly recommended to listen to the song while reading this scene ughhh
Author's Note:
Ah, ambiguity, ambiguity.
The tango Por Una Cabeza really has such a special feel to it. It has appeared in many films, especially most famously in Scent of a Woman (1992). You can look it up and give it a watch if you’re interested.
✦
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