TCRT_17
Chapter 17: The First Wearing — Madam Shen's Showcase
Shen Nanqi's wardrobe was in the adjoining room, and about two minutes later, Aunt Liang returned carrying two shawls folded into neat squares.
Ji Qingzhou took them and had a look. One was an Indian printed cotton in a busy, elaborate pattern. The other was primarily off-white with lotus-pink edging, light and thin to the touch, delicate and soft, woven from cashmere yarn. It was exactly a cashmere shawl.
"Just drape it on directly?" Shen Nanqi took off the coat and laid it over the sofa.
"Yes," Ji Qingzhou shook the cashmere shawl open, stepped around to Shen Nanqi's back, and said 'pardon me'.
He then unfolded the long shawl, turned down the edge by five or six centimeters to create a natural-looking drape, and laid it across her shoulders.
He then adjusted the angle slightly, drawing the left side of the shawl outward and letting it rest over the crook of her arm.
"The way you have arranged it is actually much better than wearing the coat," Shen Nanqi held the drape he had styled, turning in front of the mirror, satisfied at heart, yet with a lingering trace of uncertainty about this newer look.
"I do quite like it, but is it not a touch too showy, and not very practical?"
"The wind picks up at night, and a shawl is there to keep you warm. How is that not practical?" Ji Qingzhou said: "Besides, you are going to a banquet. What does it matter if it is a little showy?"
"You make a fair point. Let us go with this then."
Shen Nanqi had in truth already made up her mind, she simply wanted someone to give her that final nudge.
With the outfit settled, she touched up her rouge, then asked Aunt Liang to return the other garments to the wardrobe, and turned to Ji Qingzhou: "Come along, I should be heading out. Yuchuan is probably already waiting downstairs getting impatient."
Ji Qingzhou walked out of the sitting room with her, the sounds of her heels and his leather shoes alternating down the corridor.
As he accompanied her downstairs, he shamelessly asked: "This banquet of yours, might I come along and broaden my horizons?"
Shen Nanqi glanced back at him and continued down the stairs as she spoke: "I had actually thought about bringing you along. You are officially my nephew now, and there is no harm in getting out and meeting people.
"However, Old Master Bao is a gentleman of upright character, while his son Bao Ziqiong is quite another matter. To put it charitably, he fancies himself a man of wit and fashion, but in truth he is nothing more than a wastrel with a taste for opium.
"I hear he has taken over an entire floor of the Grand View Teahouse in front of the racecourse, filling it with all sorts of people, men and women alike. He and a band of like-minded libertines gather there day after day, surrounded by a flock of entertainers, stirring up nothing but trouble and indecency."
"Your looks..." Shen Nanqi turned and paused on the landing, her gaze sweeping over Ji Qingzhou with unmistakable meaning: "It is better to keep your distance from that sort."
"Then I will not go," Ji Qingzhou understood perfectly well what she was worried about and had no intention of brushing aside her goodwill.
"However, Madam Shen, might I ask one thing of you?"
Shen Nanqi raised an eyebrow slightly and looked at him, as though waiting for him to speak.
"At the birthday banquet, if any of the ladies happen to ask whose idea this qipao styling was, would you be willing to mention my name?"
"Your mind really is something," Shen Nanqi could not help but smile: "You want me to advertise for you. What is in it for me?"
"Did you not feel the qipao with the shawl was a touch too showy? I can make you a small everyday jacket that would be just as appropriate to wear to school," Ji Qingzhou said, hands in his pockets, leaning against the banister: "And if you do not trust my craftsmanship, you are welcome to take the design to another tailor."
Shen Nanqi did not deny this. She agreed that Ji Qingzhou had a good eye, and acknowledged that he had certain original ideas when it came to clothing, but she had little confidence in his tailoring skills.
"Very well. If anyone asks, I will put in a word for you. Your shop is..."
"Shiji Clothing Shop, at the entrance of Love Lane."
"Good, I will remember that. Go and take Yuanyuan to dinner," Shen Nanqi said pleasantly, then called for Jie Yuchuan, who had been waiting in the banquet hall, and the two of them headed out the door together.
.
By the time Shen Nanqi and Jie Yuchuan's car arrived at the venue, Jie Jianshan's car was already waiting outside.
Reminded by his driver, Jie Jianshan went with his secretary to meet the rest of the family. When he caught sight of Shen Nanqi, his steps faltered for a moment; he had nearly failed to recognize her.
As evening fell, the road was dappled with the shifting light spilling from the restaurant windows.
Dressed in her pale pink qipao and low-cut heels, shawl draped over her shoulders, Shen Nanqi stood radiant beneath those colorful, shifting lights, appearing from a distance as graceful and willowy as a girl in the bloom of youth.
Had it not been for the tall man in a Western suit standing beside her, who bore the same face as his own son, Jie Jianshan might not have dared recognize his own wife for a moment.
"How is it that you are dressed so elegantly today?"
Jie Jianshan, dressed in a changpao* and mandarin jacket and carrying a walking cane, made his way over to Shen Nanqi's side and quite naturally took his son's place beside her.
*t/n; Changpao (长袍), literally meaning "long robe," is a full-length garment worn by men in China, most commonly associated with northern China and the Mandarin/Beijing cultural tradition. It was widely worn during the late Qing dynasty through the Republican era. The garment is essentially the same as the southern Chinese "Changshan," differing only in regional terminology rather than in form or style.
"Elegant? It is simply a new-style robe."
Seeing Jie Jianshan looking so blankly bewildered, Shen Nanqi could not help but smile: "Qingzhou saw me on my way out and was worried I might be cold, so he draped a cashmere shawl over me."
"This is a robe? I would not have been able to tell. But it looks very well. You ought to wear it more often," When it came to his wife's increasingly fashionable dress, Jie Jianshan's attitude had always been one of respect and encouragement.
"Shall we go," Jie Jianshan extended his arm and let Shen Nanqi take it.
The two of them chatted idly as they made their way toward the entrance of the restaurant.
"Have you prepared the birthday gift?"
"All prepared."
"Who did you have write the congratulatory banner? You did not just ask Secretary Song to find someone at random, did you?"
"Of course not," Jie Jianshan said in a gentle tone: "When I first came to Shanghai, Old Bao took great care of me. For his birthday banner I specifically sought out Mr. Cheng..."
Seeing their parents absorbed in conversation and walking ahead, the forgotten Jie Yuchuan and Secretary Song, who was carrying the birthday gift beside him, exchanged a glance, and the two of them fell in step behind, one on each side.
Bao Xunsong was a former imperial examination graduate of the late Qing Dynasty, as well as a well-known philanthropist and educator.
His seventieth birthday banquet was held at the Fuxing Garden Restaurant on Fifth Road. Not only had the entire restaurant been reserved for the occasion, but a stage had been erected below, with a troupe of performers brought in to perform Kun opera.
The Jie family had originally made their name in commerce, and would not ordinarily have had much overlap in social circles with a scholar of this kind. However, as both families were prominent clans from Suzhou, they were fellow members of the Suzhou-Shanghai association and had jointly funded the establishment of more than ten primary schools across both cities, and so maintained a regular acquaintance.
After presenting the birthday gift and congratulatory banner, Jie Jianshan and Jie Yuchuan were invited by their host to the table seating on the second floor, while Shen Nanqi was led by an attendant to the ladies-only section on the third floor.
This old custom of seating men and women separately left Shen Nanqi quietly displeased.
But this was someone else's birthday banquet, and considering that Bao Xunsong was a man past seventy, she could not help but forgive the old-fashioned thinking. She had no choice but to put on an unbothered air and follow the attendant upstairs.
Once upstairs, Shen Nanqi had not yet reached her seat. She had barely turned the corner at the top of the staircase when she ran into the wife of the owner of Hengzheng Bookstore, Yang Xinzhi, a woman she had met on a few previous occasions.
Though this lady walked on the bound feet of a former era, her step was light and quick. The moment she caught sight of Shen Nanqi, she came forward with a greeting.
"Madam Jie, it has been a long time. You are looking lovelier than ever," Yang Xinzhi said warmly.
She was dressed in the fashionable civilized new style of the day, a white cloth jacket over a black pleated skirt, her small feet in white socks tucked into a pair of yellow leather shoes a size too large.
Shen Nanqi had studied abroad and served as principal of a girls' school. She was well aware that in the eyes of certain conservative old-fashioned types, she was not considered a proper, well-behaved woman.
Some gentlemen and their wives were perfectly courteous to her in public social settings, yet would go home and tell friends and family that she was brazen and shameless, that her Western-style dresses were outlandish garb, and that her heels and silk stockings were an affront to decency.
She had heard as much, one way or another, from those around her.
Toward all of this she felt not so much anger as weariness.
Her energy was limited, and she had no time to deal with those of the old guard. To avoid the trouble, she made it a point in most situations to steer clear of occasions where she would have to converse with ladies who had bound feet.
Yet having suffered under the same harmful customs herself, she knew that this Madam Yang was genuinely a woman of progressive thinking.
Though she had been raised in a conservative household, she had actively enrolled in a women's school after marriage, contributed pieces to a women's newspaper, and written articles criticizing those stubborn traditionalists who liked to meddle in women's private lives, while also voicing support for women cutting their hair, changing their dress, and adopting male-style clothing.
So when Yang Xinzhi greeted and complimented her, Shen Nanqi stopped without hesitation and responded with a warm smile of thanks.
Yang Xinzhi's eyes beneath her rounded fringe carried a trace of admiration as she asked: "Is what you are wearing a robe of some kind?"
Shen Nanqi smiled and parted her shawl slightly: "It is a qipao. Hard to tell, is it not?"
"You really cannot tell without looking closely. This must be a new style. It is quite lovely. Which tailor's skilled hands made this?"
Yang Xinzhi had asked out of genuine curiosity mixed with a touch of politeness, but once the shawl was opened, her gaze was drawn to the graceful figure wrapped in that peach-pink fabric, and she felt a deep admiration for Shen Nanqi's boldness in wearing such a modern qipao out in public.
Shen Nanqi had still been wondering whether to steer the conversation toward the tailor herself, and had not expected things to go so smoothly. She answered candidly:
"It was made at Old Master Yan's shop at Yuxiang, though the idea came from my grandnephew. The boy has quite a talent for clothing. He has opened a clothing shop called Shiji somewhere near Love Lane, I believe."
Shen Nanqi adopted a casually chatty tone, leaving the address slightly vague while slipping in all the key details, and smiled: "The boy is just starting out on a small scale. I have not visited yet myself."
"Your grandnephew has opened a clothing shop? I shall have to drop in if I ever pass by," Yang Xinzhi said, somewhere between polite and sincere.
Shen Nanqi smiled and nodded, then steered the conversation elsewhere with a few words before taking her leave of Yang Xinzhi.
For Shen Nanqi, wearing this qipao was simply an ordinary experiment with something new, much like all the times before when she had worn fashionably styled Western clothes to social gatherings.
Perhaps some people would be curious about where she had purchased her outfit, but Chinese people were reserved by nature, and most would at most offer a word or two of praise without asking in much detail.
Having agreed to help promote Ji Qingzhou, she had planned to steer conversations in that direction herself when the opportunity arose. What she had not anticipated was that throughout the banquet, female acquaintances would come up to her one after another asking where her outfit was from.
There were even ladies she had never met who specifically came over to strike up a conversation for the sole purpose of asking where her qipao had been made.
Shen Nanqi was on one hand surprised that this new-style qipao should be so well received among these ladies of distinguished families, and on the other hand threw herself wholeheartedly into promoting Ji Qingzhou.
She understood that when Ji Qingzhou's small clothing shop was mentioned in the same breath as Yuxiang Fashion Shop, these ladies would in all likelihood choose to go to Yuxiang if they wanted a qipao in the same style. But this did not particularly matter.
So long as they came away knowing that there was a Shiji Clothing Shop on Love Lane run by her own grandnephew, and that this shop owner had rather original ideas, there was a good chance they would stop in for a look when they happened to pass by.
In that case, her promotional work could be considered a job well done.
As for whether these customers could be won over and kept, that was not something she needed to concern herself with.
With these thoughts in mind, Shen Nanqi continued her conversation with a friend, then turned to manage two young female students who had come over to join them.
They were not only curious about the new-style qipao she was wearing, but equally taken with her shawl, and asked where one might go to purchase it.
Shen Nanqi found herself trying hard to recall Ji Qingzhou's exact words, whether he had said "kaixumi" or "kaishimi," or perhaps simply the English word "cashmere," while inwardly marveling that the young man the old mistress had chosen as her grandson-in-law was indeed capable of bringing her surprises.
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