TCRT_14
Chapter 14: The Finished Work — Better Than Expected
At lunchtime, the entrance to Love Lane was livelier than usual.
The Tao Family Restaurant at the mouth of the lane was doing a roaring trade, with a steady stream of customers coming and going. Street vendors had purposely set up their stalls at the lane entrance, hawking candied crisps, flatbreads, fermented rice balls, and the like, drawing even more passersby to stop and linger.
Amid the bustling lane, a young shop hand wearing a grey cotton jacket and a melon-rind cap suddenly darted out of the small shop next door to Tao's, carrying a bowl of soup noodles. He crossed the lane and walked into the little tailor's shop opposite.
"Boss Ji, where would you like me to put your pork noodles and smoked fish?"
Ji Qingzhou was sitting in the bamboo armchair by the door, head bowed, carefully embroidering characters along the upper edge of the inner breast pocket of a single-breasted jacket. Without looking up, he replied, "Just set it on the sewing machine table. Thank you for your trouble."
"Sure thing," The shop hand set the bowl down carefully, and just before stepping out, leaned curiously toward Ji Qingzhou and asked, "What are you embroidering there?"
"An abbreviation of my shop's name, a kind of mark."
"Oh, oh, is that foreign writing?"
"Something like that," Ji Qingzhou smiled.
In truth, he had originally considered embroidering the traditional Chinese characters for "Shiji (世紀)" or the word "Century" in Spencerian script, but time was too tight. He was no embroidery expert either, so for the sake of convenience he simply embroidered "C·HL," with the letters after the dot being the initials of the garment's owner.
The shop hand glanced at it a couple of times but couldn't make heads or tails of it. Leaving behind a "Remember to call me when you're done so I can collect the bowl," he trotted back into the shop to get on with his work.
A few more minutes passed. Ji Qingzhou finished the embroidery, picked up the suit jacket, and draped it together with the trousers and shirt over the pressing table. He then tilted his neck and rolled it around, covered his mouth, and let out a wide yawn.
With that, the sewing of the entire outfit was complete. What remained was the overall pressing and shaping, commonly known as the 'grand press'.
He raised his wrist and glanced at his watch. Seeing that there was still ample time, Ji Qingzhou sat unhurriedly at the sewing machine table, picked up his chopsticks, and began eating his lunch.
The meal had been ordered from Yang's snack shop across the lane.
It was a small eatery run by a middle-aged couple, specialising in local snacks. In the mornings they offered steamed buns, pan-fried buns, fried dough sticks, soy milk, and fried sesame balls. After the breakfast hour, they switched to various noodle soups, stir-fried noodles, rice porridge, and fried tofu with thin vermicelli, supplemented by smoked fish, pickled vegetables, salted duck eggs, fried pork ribs, and other porridge sides or noodle toppings. The variety was quite extensive.
Thanks to its good taste and low prices, despite the cramped shop, greasy and murky air, and seating that amounted to nothing more than two square tables and a few long benches under an oilcloth awning, business was remarkably brisk. Every seat was taken come mealtime, and so the couple had called over their fourteen or fifteen-year-old nephew from the countryside to help out.
Ji Qingzhou had been observing this shop for two days now, and today he finally had the chance to try it for himself.
A bowl of pork noodles for eight fen. The meat was not plentiful, but thanks to fresh ingredients, the flavour was clean and bright.
Two liang* of sweet and sour smoked fish for one jiao. Crispy on the outside and tender within, coated all over in sauce, the taste was rich with a salty-sweet depth. Eaten alongside the noodles, it was thoroughly satisfying.
*t/n; a traditional Chinese unit of weight. 1 liang ≈ 50 grams, so "two liang" roughly 100 grams.
Having quickly dispatched his lunch, Ji Qingzhou returned the bowl and chopsticks to the snack shop across the way. After resting in the shop for a while, he began pressing the garments.
There is a saying in the clothing trade: "thirty percent making, seventy percent pressing," The pressing process is an especially critical step in bespoke menswear, and in tailoring a suit above all.
Should the worker's control of temperature or pressing technique slip even slightly, the final result would fall short of the "nine postures and sixteen characters" standard, meaning the garment would not sit as smoothly on the wearer's body, and the three-dimensional quality of the cut would to some degree be compromised.
Having already come this far, there would be no opportunity to redo any mistakes.
And so, given that the electric iron of that era had no steam supply and its temperature was not so easily controlled, Ji Qingzhou had no choice but to test each step beforehand on scraps of the same fabric, then cover the garment with a pressing cloth before ironing. He would rather spend the extra time than risk any carelessness.
Three garments, after repeated rounds of pressing and shaping, finally had all their work completed three hours later.
He gave the suit one final check over every detail, confirmed that no loose threads or the like remained, then laid the jacket and trousers out flat and smooth on the worktable.
He then hastily shut the shop door and jogged at a brisk pace to the public lavatory several hundred metres away.
With that matter attended to, Ji Qingzhou made his way back at an easy stroll along the afternoon boulevard lined on both sides with shady trees.
Returning to the shop and seeing that it was still early, he set about busying himself with other work.
Over these three days, his primary task had of course been to finish making the suit, but alongside that he had also taken on a number of smaller jobs.
For anything that could be sorted within ten minutes or so, Ji Qingzhou had dealt with it on the spot while the customer was still there. What remained was either alterations to lengthen or shorten, take in or let out garments, or the reworking of adults' old clothes into pieces fit for children to wear.
Each customer had their own clear requirements, leaving no room for him to exercise any personal touch.
Even so, a customer at the door was business, and there was no reason to turn any of it away.
For orders that would take a fair bit of effort, Ji Qingzhou would honestly explain to the customer the current queue situation. Those who could not wait simply left without asking the price. Those who were in no particular hurry, or who could not be bothered seeking out another tailor's shop, simply left their garments with him and would come back to collect them in three to five days.
Although there were no bespoke orders of the kind he was after, the odd jobs added together still brought in five or six jiao a day.
Enough to at least cover the daily rent, utilities, snack expenses, and commute fare to and from work. Ji Qingzhou was quite content with that.
Keeping busy, he did not notice the time slipping by until evening had arrived.
As the sun sank in the west and the shadows lengthened, the lane lying within the shade of the buildings looked as though a pale grey filter had been laid over it. Only a corner of the roof tiles on the three-storey restaurant opposite still caught the golden light.
At around half past five, He Lu arrived at the shop in a blue long gown, hair slightly dishevelled, moving at a hurried pace. He gave a nod of greeting to Ji Qingzhou, who was seated at the sewing machine: "Boss Ji, I'm not late, am I?"
"At least you didn't show up right as I was closing, like last time."
Ji Qingzhou quickly finished what he had in hand, then rose and held up the completed suit jacket and shirt for display.
"Take a look at the colour and pattern. Do you like it?"
"This suit... is mine?"
He Lu stared wide-eyed at the garments in his hands, and then could not help breaking into a goofy grin.
"Very good. No, better than that, it exceeds expectations!"
Truth be told, the moment he stepped into the shop he had already spotted the dark grey suit laid out flat on the table.
But seeing how smooth and straight the garment lay, every bit as sharp and elegant as what the foreign professors at his school used to wear, he could not quite bring himself to believe that seven yuan could buy a suit like this. He had assumed it must be a style someone else had commissioned at a much higher price.
"Try it on," Ji Qingzhou handed him the clothes, then picked up the trousers and gestured toward the curtain: "You can change in there."
He Lu gave a nod, took two steps, then stopped. He licked his lips and said with some embarrassment, "I have never worn one before. I wouldn't know how to put it on."
"That's fine, I'll help you," Ji Qingzhou said, and went to close the shop door.
He Lu saw that his expression was calm and his tone gentle, and the awkwardness gradually faded.
Then, with practiced ease, he slipped off his long gown and, under Ji Qingzhou's guidance, put on the shirt and did up the buttons, followed by the crisply pressed trousers and the classic notch-lapel suit jacket.
Once the full outfit was on, He Lu stepped in front of the standing mirror and froze, half doubting his own eyes.
Was the well-dressed man in the mirror, who looked every bit like a bank clerk, really him?
How had his shoulders become so broad and square? How were his legs so straight? He was simply standing naturally, yet somehow his tendency to hunch was barely noticeable.
"How does it feel? Is anything uncomfortable?"
"It feels as though my whole body is wrapped up. It's not entirely comfortable, but I suppose that must be because the fit is so close?" He Lu asked uncertainly.
"A sense of constraint is normal," Ji Qingzhou said from beside him: "Move around a little. Take a few steps, raise your arms, roll your shoulders."
He Lu moved his body as instructed, circled around once, then returned to the mirror and straightened his front placket: "I think the sizing should be right. The waistband fits just right as well."
In truth, he was so pleased with his own reflection in that suit that it was as though he had been given an entirely different body overnight. His bearing had at once become composed and elegant.
Even though the suit did not have the lightness and comfort of a long gown, he was still reluctant to take it off.
"Good, as long as there are no problems," Ji Qingzhou walked around to stand in front of him and helped adjust his shirt collar, then offered a suggestion: "Your face is on the squarish and round side. For occasions that aren't formal, you can leave two shirt buttons undone and wear the jacket without fastening the buttons. It brings out the relaxed and clean overall silhouette much better.
"But for formal occasions, such as tomorrow's interview, the shirt collar should still be folded neatly, and it would be best to tie a proper bow tie or necktie as well."
"A bow tie?" He Lu looked at him, puzzled.
"...Consider it a gift from me," Ji Qingzhou had anticipated this reaction, and promptly took out from the storage basket a light grey silk tie with black diagonal stripes.
It had been made from leftover fabric scraps from the tailor's shop, so it cost him nothing to speak of.
"Watch carefully how it's tied. I'll show you at most twice," With that, he looped the tie around He Lu's neck and, moving his fingers one step at a time with explanation, slowly and clearly tied a four-in-hand knot.
Even though his instructions were quite detailed, from He Lu's perspective it still seemed rather complicated.
So Ji Qingzhou had no choice but to guide him through tying it himself after demonstrating it once.
After two rounds, He Lu had learned to tie the knot, but his attempt came out lopsided, uneven on both sides and quite asymmetrical.
Ji Qingzhou reached over and adjusted it for him, saying, "A little asymmetry is fine. Too perfect actually looks stiff."
"I understand. Thank you very much, Boss Ji."
Having spent over ten minutes in such close proximity to Ji Qingzhou, He Lu was no longer quite as at a loss as he had been during the last fitting, but his heart was still beating considerably faster than usual, and he kept unconsciously looking away whenever their eyes were about to meet.
"Alright, that's that. Before you head out tomorrow, shave that stubble and comb your hair properly. Looking this scruffy is no match for the clothes I've made."
Ji Qingzhou genuinely could not stand the sight of his dishevelled short hair and had not been able to hold back the remark.
The words were a little forward, yet He Lu did not feel the least bit offended.
He chuckled at his own reflection in the mirror a couple of times, then suddenly remembered he had not yet settled the bill. He hurriedly dug five silver yuan out of his long gown pocket and handed them to Ji Qingzhou.
After that, He Lu carefully and gently took off the suit, laid all three pieces neatly on the worktable, and changed back into his old long gown.
Ji Qingzhou folded the suit in a way that minimised creasing as much as possible, wrapped it layer by layer in bamboo fibre paper, and as he handed it over, added with some concern:
"Once you get the clothes home, try to fold and store them the way I've shown you. Cotton and linen both crease easily. Wash the shirt and iron it before wearing. As for the suit, avoid washing it if at all possible. If you really must, try to only spot-clean the stained areas. After washing, you can bring it back here for pressing, and I'll give you a discount on the pressing fee.
"When you get the chance later on, it would be best to buy a decent pair of leather shoes and a belt as well. It makes adjusting the trouser waist much more convenient."
"I'll remember all of that. Thank you, Boss Ji, for being so patient and thorough with a customer who knows absolutely nothing about any of this," He Lu lowered his head and thanked him once more.
Before leaving, he added with a bashful smile: "If the opportunity arises, I'll be sure to send some business your way."
"...Then I wish you a smooth interview."
What Ji Qingzhou had actually meant to say was that if the interview went well, He Lu was welcome to refer his colleagues over to have clothes made. But if it did not, then never mind, there was no need to go out of his way to recommend the shop to anyone.
This was the sort of job that ate up time and effort for very little return. He truly had no wish to take on a second one.
Though shortly after, he reconsidered. A large part of why he had put in so much work for so little pay this time came down to his pricing being poorly set up.
Writing "all items three yuan" on the signboard was meant to catch customers' eyes, but three yuan for a qipao and three yuan for a full suit were clearly not equivalent in terms of workload.
He would need to break things down more carefully and draw up a more detailed rate sheet to post at the door, listing the tailoring fee for each individual garment.
On top of that, different fabrics and different techniques should each be priced with some further distinction.
Ji Qingzhou added this to his plans, then tidied up and prepared to head home.
Before slinging his crossbody bag over his shoulder, he tallied up the shop's earnings over these past few days.
After deducting the cost of the suit fabric, the total came to four yuan, five jiao, and two fen.
Four days open, four yuan earned. How on earth had he ever had the nerve to complain that Yuxiang Fashion Shop's wages were too low?
Ji Qingzhou let out a quiet sigh and stored the shop's earnings separately in one of the inner compartments of his bag.
But it had to be said that when he saw He Lu put on the clothes he had made and break into a satisfied smile, the sense of fulfilment that rose in his chest was incomparable.
It was a complex feeling: part pride at having his craft affirmed, part quiet contentment at seeing the clothes he had made treated with genuine care.
All in all, it might best be described as the grounded feeling of pressing steadily forward on the road toward a dream.
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