For once, words failed me.

A microphone had been thrust into my hand, and I was expected to at least talk, if not sing the praises of my new bride.

The small detail that I don't speak any Chinese seemed to elude the gentleman who was badgering me, and probably still would do so, if Ellen hadn't rescued me from his grasp.

I'm proud of the fact that I don't speak Mandarin, and it will take a lot of effort to convince me that I should.

I've already spent the past two years teaching Ellen an enormous amount of English, and we're very, very happy.

I'm no longer worried by whatever someone says to me, as long as Ellen deems that it's not worth the effort to translate.

And as I stood on the small stage, clutching Ellen's hand, I unleashed all the Chinese I could think of:

"Xie xie! Gan Bei! Xing Fu Mei Man!" (Thank you! Bottoms up! Happy for all!)

Which worked a treat.

Ellen and I spent the rest of the wedding touring the tables and pretending to drink the awful concoctions that were thrust into our hands. At the first table, it seemed to be a mixture of bai jiu, tea, red wine and Coke, and after that, it only got worse.

Looking into the cup, I was told that this was par for the course, and I shouldn't worry.

Or imbibe.

After that, it all became something of a blur - between faux toasts and mock bows, I was becoming exhausted.

Finally, after a grand circuit, we were done with our thanks to those who were attending the ceremony.

It was then that the "Best Neighbor" took over.

A tall man in an elegant suit, he instructed Ellen and I to bow three times first to the guests, and then to her parents. A rapid fire speech followed, during which I believe he asked me to take care of Ellen for as long as we both live.

I could hardly say no!

Then the banquet was served, an array of courses that I couldn't keep up with - but that included my favorite

Duck.

I'm a fiend for a good duck, crispy and tender at the same time, and this fitted the bill nicely. I maneuvered the dish between myself and Ellen, and began to enjoy myself.

And then Ellen's "Godfather" stood up.

He almost physically paraded me around the tables, to give thanks to those people who had come to our wedding and I wouldn't have minded if we hadn't already done so!

With his firm grasp on my belt and shoulder, Ellen and I gan bei'd our way around the room, again, pretending to drink from the cups we held.

Our thanks given, we slunk off to our table, where some of our colleagues sat, and quietly toasted each other.

And once again, we were thrust into the spotlight.

Under the blazing globes and flashes I gently took Ellen's tender hand, and gazed into her eyes, then told her of my everlasting and undying love, of how I couldn't bear to be apart from her, and how it would take wild horses to drag us apart.

And most of all, how it would take a team of crazed maniacs several months to convince me that I should ever set foot outside our home again, lest it be too soon, and we would regret it.

I'll say it again: "It's Ellen for me, now and forever, I swear it in all perpetuity."

I just couldn't cope with all the hullaballoo and paperwork required to go through it all again, I know it.

本文仅代表作者本人观点，与本网立场无关。欢迎大家讨论学术问题，尊重他人，禁止人身攻击和发布一切违反国家现行法律法规的内容。

（作者Stuart Beaton 中国日报网英语点津 编辑陈丹妮）