The women at the front desk had gold badges

with their names in English and Chinese.

An older man carried Weng’s bag to the room,

then asked if he would inspect it closely.

“It’s very nice,” Weng said, looking around. “Thank you.”

“So, if you had to give it a score,

what do you think would be fair?”

“Very high score,” Weng said.

“What about out of a hundred?”

“A hundred out of a hundred,” Weng said.

The porter couldn’t believe it. “Can I admit to you, Mr. Fun,
that my wife is head of maid services?”

“Then it’s the nicest room I’ve seen in my whole life.”

“Please, Mr. Fun, this is too much, you’ll bring us bad luck!”

Weng handed the man a stack of yuan,

but in an old-fashioned gesture,

he refused the money and Weng had to stuff

the bills into the porter’s pockets.

“Before I go, Mr. Fun, I’m going to linger outside your door for
a few minutes in case there’s anything else you can think of that
you might need in the moments following my departure.”