A gift is usually a token of love or appreciation, but not here in China. Here, a gift is normally an invitation to enter into a business deal, possibly shady, definitely under the table, and most likely illegal. Gifts in China are the currency of bribery. The term in Chinese reveals a little more about this practice. It can be referred to as ‘gao ding’ which means you have literally nailed someone. This is often used for gift giving with an ulterior motive.

There is a whole sophisticated system of gift giving. For example, if you give a gift, it is accepted practice to leave the business card of an evaluator. ‘In case you want to learn the history of the object,’ is what you say. The evaluator will then call and make a cash offer for the gift, transforming what seemed to be a shared cultural interest into shared financial interest.

Popular gifts are usually highly valued objects. Chinese Pu’er tea and the Chinese spirit Maotai are favourites. In the past 15 years, European luxury goods have also joined the pool of deal-making gifts, with products from all the usual suspects – Louis Vuitton, Hermès, Chanel, Tod’s, Prada, and Cartier – being the most prized. As government officials are generally male, man bags were the first items that became popular as gifts, known locally as ‘armpit wallets’. Eventually, the stakes became higher and gifts more valuable, such as watches and even cars.

But for the powerful man it was different. The gift giver had to find a discreet way for the gift to be turned into cash. So it is now customary to provide the business card of a ‘cashier’ along with the gift. This person is usually disguised as a connoisseur of art, antiques, watches, wine, etc. He is prepped to offer an amount way above the purchasing price of the gift to the receiver. Once the deal is done, the gift giver knows that the receiver is in his pocket. He can move on to raising the real business issue.

Unlike government officials, pretty women also get gifts – except they cannot cash them in. Most luxury stores have caught on to the game, so there is a no cash return policy. Only store credit. Needless to say, there are some pretty well-dressed mistresses, but thanks to the internet now they can open an online boutique and cash in on their unwanted gifts this way.

This has been standard practice in China for the past 20 years, with luxury sales maintaining double-digit growth each year. That is, until the case of the ‘Watch Brother’, Yang Dacai, a local quality inspection official from Shaanxi Province. In September 2012, a photo of Yang laughing at the scene of a tragic traffic accident went viral. Within hours, a close up shot of his Rolex wristwatch surfaced, sparking debate on corruption in the government. Yang panicked and actually responded publicly that the watch was a gift from his wife. Within hours, more photos of Yang appeared online showing him wearing at least 15 different watches, and Yang became known as the ‘Watch Brother’, a symbol of corruption in the Chinese government.

If this whole circus had happened in 2011, there would have been thorough censorship on the internet, posts would have been deleted, and people would have had visits from the state security. It was bad timing for Yang: he created a stir when the government was changing hands. No one bothered to censor the public outcry against him; in fact, even the state-owned television media joined in.

Following the affair, an anti-corruption campaign started on Chinese social networks. It was mob justice and payback time. Officials stopped wearing short-sleeved shirts and watches. They also stopped wearing designer belts and shoes. And with this came a sharp downturn in luxury sales in China, putting an end to the gifting frenzy. The problem is systemic: an authoritarian regime which employs nearly 10 per cent of the nation’s workforce on low salaries, coupled with a robust market economy where million- aires and billionaires are crawling out of the woodwork. The rich and powerful are constantly cooking up all sorts of business deals, and gifting is merely the icing on the cake.

But bribery is also cultural and historical. My own grandfather, who practiced law in Shanghai in the 1930s, used to say that the only way to win a case is to lose gracefully at the mahjong table to the judge. Traditionally, gift giving happens in September on the Moon Festival, a holiday for family reunions. The gift is sup- posed to be moon cakes: a pastry filled with sweet bean paste stuffing and egg yolks. However, the moon cakes eventually had diamonds and watches as stuffing, and the government banned its employees from receiving them several years ago. So you see, this is a Chinese thing, not a Communist thing.

To bribe gracefully, effortlessly, and most crucially, discreetly is an art that has been practiced for centuries – if not millennia – in China. We have indeed made an exquisite art out of human greed.