TRCT_19

Chapter 19: Offering Ideas — Why Not Just Live Outside?

After seeing off the two future celebrities, it was already past half twelve.

At this hour, Jie Yu'an had probably already had his bed made up for his afternoon nap.

There was little point in heading back now, so Ji Qingzhou simply crossed over to Yang's snack shop and ordered a bowl of spare rib noodles for lunch, settling the meal without fuss.

After eating, he returned the bowl and chopsticks to Yang's, then sat down in the bamboo-backed chair by the door, resting in the breeze. He took out a sheet of cotton pulp paper bought from the stationery shop and, working from his earlier qipao design, began drawing out the custom fabric pattern on the page.

This was a substantial undertaking. Beyond accounting for the proportional difference between the sketch and the actual fabric panels, the spacing of the pattern on the cloth, how the motifs connected and aligned, and how many times they repeated were all equally important considerations.

After spending an hour drawing out a set of floral motifs and filling in the colors with watercolor from a tin box, Ji Qingzhou got up and stretched, and looked out toward the cool, quiet paulownia trees at the lane entrance.

The afternoon streets, bathed in warm sunlight, gave off a drowsy, languid air. The yellow tabby cat kept by Tao's restaurant lay draped lazily over a wine jar at the doorway, dozing.

Fragrant smoke from the flatbread stall at the lane entrance drifted past, yet the cat remained perfectly still, sleeping on undisturbed.

Foot traffic through the lane was sparse, and even the stray dogs that usually wandered everywhere were rarely to be seen, let alone customers coming out specifically to browse and shop.

The best business at this hour was probably to be found at the teahouses and coffee shops.

With that thought in mind, Ji Qingzhou tucked the finished drawing into his sketchbook, and prepared to close up temporarily and make a trip to a nearby silk house to sort out the custom fabric matter first.

Then while he was at it, he would also pick up the fabric needed for the pale yellow qipao, so that once the two young women's measurements came through, he could start on it right away.

But just as he had taken off his apron, slung his leather satchel over his shoulder, and picked up his jacket ready to head out, another customer arrived: a woman of around forty, accompanied by a driver, coming to his shop to have a qipao made to order.

As this Madam Wang explained, she was an old classmate of Shen Nanqi's from St. Mary's Hall, and had come to his shop to support the business of her good friend's grandnephew.

Hearing this, Ji Qingzhou naturally set his bag back down and received her warmly.

In the end, the lady chose a black straight-cut qipao with a fringed hem, in a diamond-pattern jacquard silk satin¹. As it happened, both this fabric and the pale yellow ramie were available from the same cloth house.

After Madam Wang left her name and departed, Ji Qingzhou, wary that more customers might yet come in, changed his plans and stayed in the shop for another two hours, working on the sewing of the leather jacket.

In the end, the only person who came was a regular, stopping by to collect a cotton robe he had left two days earlier to have the lining replaced.

As it approached four o'clock, seeing that there was truly no more business, Ji Qingzhou closed up early and hung a sign on the lock reading 'Please inquire at the barbershop next door'.

He then picked up his sketchbook and made his way quickly out of the lane.

His first stop was a silk and satin house called "Wang Shanxing" on Tongfu Road.

The owner was from Jiaxing and sold mostly silk purchased from local weavers in the area. For the same quality of fabric, his prices were a few fen cheaper than the Suzhou silk house across the street run by someone from Ningbo, though his selection of patterns and colors was not as varied.

The fabric Ji Qingzhou had used for the blouse and skirt outfit had been purchased here, and he had previously asked the owner for some swatches as well. Old Master Wang knew he ran a garment shop and, in the spirit of keeping good relations for the sake of business, had always been quite friendly toward him.

After hearing Ji Qingzhou's request, Old Master Wang, who was past fifty and already somewhat balding, stroked his sparse chin whiskers and said in a kindly tone:

"This pattern of yours looks simple at first glance, but look more carefully and it is layered with varying shades of depth. The number of colors involved is quite complex. It would not be easy to dye."

Ji Qingzhou could tell there was more to his words and said directly: "Why not name a price?"

"It is not a matter of price," Old Master Wang handed the sketch back to him: "Let me be straightforward. If you were ordering in large quantities, this would be easy to discuss. But if you only want one or two bolts, we cannot even recover the labor costs. Unless you are willing to pay a high price, not just here, but any silk house would be reluctant to take on the order."

Ji Qingzhou hesitated a few seconds and asked: "When you say high price, roughly how much?"

Old Master Wang thought for a moment and held up two fingers.

Ji Qingzhou raised an eyebrow: "Twenty dollars a bolt?"

Old Master Wang shook his head: "Two yuan per foot. If you want Hangzhou crepe, one bolt is five zhang*, so one hundred silver dollars at the minimum."

*t/n; a traditional Chinese unit of length. 1 zhang ≈ 10 chi or about 3.33 meters. So, "five zhang" would be roughly 16.7 meters.

One hundred silver dollars!

Now that was truly a bold figure to open with!

Ji Qingzhou was taken aback. He could not come up with that much money even if he emptied his pockets entirely.

And Miss Shi's maximum acceptable price for the fabric was only five jiao per foot.

Ji Qingzhou immediately found himself in a difficult position.

He had anticipated that printing techniques of this era depended heavily on handwork, and that whether it was block printing or screen printing the costs would certainly not be low. What he had not expected was that Old Master Wang would not even want to discuss the matter upon hearing the terms of the order.

"But surely the cost cannot be that high?" Ji Qingzhou was beginning to wonder whether Old Master Wang was trying to pressure him into raising his price.

He ventured: "You purchase silk directly from weavers. A bolt might cost you five or six dollars at most, surely?"

"The dyeing and printing is what costs money," Old Master Wang spread his hands: "Never mind the dye consumed in color trials. You would have to cover the cost of making the screen, would you not?"

Seeing the young man before him lower his eyes with an expression caught between frustration and regret, Old Master Wang could not help but feel a pang of sympathy.

After hesitating for a moment, he reached over and patted Ji Qingzhou on the back, drew him to a corner, and lowered his voice: "I can see you are genuinely set on this. Let me point you in a direction. Go and ask around in Hongkou."

"Hongkou? Which shop?"

"A Japanese-owned printing factory. I hear they have automated printing machines, so the price may be considerably lower."

Upon hearing this, Ji Qingzhou glanced at Old Master Wang discreetly, momentarily wondering whether the man might be an enemy agent operating undercover among the civilian population.

But seeing that Old Master Wang's eyes were full of nothing but warmth and genuine concern, as though he was truly looking out for this younger person, Ji Qingzhou dismissed the thought and thanked him politely: "Thank you for the guidance. I am truly grateful for your trouble."

Old Master Wang gave his shoulder another pat and said nothing more.

After taking his leave, Ji Qingzhou went directly across the street to the Suzhou silk house, where he purchased the main fabric needed for the other two orders.

Taking the oil-paper wrapped bolts of cloth from the shop assistant's hands, he took the opportunity while paying to raise the same question with the proprietor, and was, as expected, turned down as well.

Ji Qingzhou felt somewhat discouraged, but was unwilling to give up just yet.

He reasoned that the larger silk houses were reluctant to take on the order because it was too much trouble for too little profit. Perhaps some of the smaller cloth workshops, dye houses, or family-run operations would be willing.

And so, while the sun had not yet set, he boarded a tram and headed to the fabric wholesale street he had visited before, determined to try his luck.

As for the suggestion Old Master Wang had given him, he had not even considered it.

Yet it seemed as though fate itself was against him completing this order. He walked down two streets in a row and inquired at over a dozen small shops, only to be either flatly refused or gently told that his offered price was too low for them to take on the work.

Some even advised him to make a trip to Hangzhou. In short, the message was clear: within the bounds of Shanghai, there was no way to commission a bolt of Hangzhou crepe for under twenty-five yuan.

Without noticing, the sky had grown dark.

A full moon hung in the deep blue night sky, casting its clear, crystalline light down upon the world below.

In the moonlight, Ji Qingzhou walked with the fabric tucked under his left arm and his suit jacket slung over his right shoulder, drifting unhurriedly through the bustling crowds.

Piano music mixed with the laughter of foreigners drifted from a Western restaurant beside the road. The air was thick with exhaust fumes from passing motor cars. Cold, clear moonlight filtered down through the shadows of the paulownia trees overhead. Unrelated sights and sounds and sensations layered themselves all together in that moment.

The chime of a nearby clock shop suddenly rang out, and Ji Qingzhou pulled his left hand from his trouser pocket and pushed up his sleeve to check his watch, startled to find it was already seven o'clock.

He had been wandering outside for three hours.

Putting aside his low spirits, Ji Qingzhou walked to the nearest tram stop and rode back to the Jie family mansion.

By the time he arrived home, twenty minutes had passed, and dinner had long since ended.

The Jie family had left his meal in the kitchen, but sitting alone in the main dining room held little appeal, so he asked a servant to bring the food up to the small dining room in the east wing on the second floor.

The dishes had been kept warm under the lid of the large pot on the stove and were still hot.

After all that walking, his stomach had long since been hollowed out.

He had no desire to think about anything. He picked up his bowl, helped himself to two pieces of red-braised pork, ladled a few spoonfuls of the braising sauce over his rice, and with the meat and sauce together, slurped the whole bowl down in no time at all.

He then refilled his bowl, and had just picked up the ladle to add a scoop of fish soup when he looked up to find a pale-faced dark figure standing silently upright in the doorway.

He gave a start, and once he made out who it was, he let out a wordless sigh. Still ladling the soup, he drawled lazily: "Back from your walk? Come in and sit for a bit, keep me company."

Jie Yu'an turned on hearing this and made to leave.

Ji Qingzhou quickly changed his tone and called out warmly: "Come on, there is nothing to do going back to your room this early. Come in and sit down for a chat. As it happens, I have a question I would like to ask you."

Jie Yu'an's footsteps paused. He considered for a few seconds, then turned back around and walked into the small dining room, taking a seat at the round table covered with a lace cloth.

"What question?" he asked with his usual composure.

Ji Qingzhou picked up a chopstick-full of shredded potato and put it in his mouth, looking at Jie Yu'an across from him, whose brows and eyes were partly obscured by smooth dark hair, and thinking that somehow his expression seemed a good deal softer than usual.

"Do you have any connections in the silk or textile trade?"

"What has happened now?"

Ji Qingzhou gave a quiet sigh: "Just running into some difficulties with business."

He gave a brief account of his day's experience, and said in a tired voice: "I suppose I am still not familiar enough with Shanghai's fabric market. In any case, I could not find anywhere to place a custom order. Some people even suggested going to the Japanese or the British, saying their equipment is better and the prices cheaper.

"But what I need is Hangzhou crepe. For other fabrics, woolen cloth for instance, it would be one thing if the domestic industry simply did not have the production technology yet. But why would I go to foreigners for Hangzhou crepe? Does that make any sense to me?"

At that, Ji Qingzhou's frustration came back, and he bit into a piece of red-braised pork with feeling.

Jie Yu'an was silent for a moment, then said: "Have you tried the long-established silk houses?"

"Long-established?" Ji Qingzhou shook his head instinctively: "I am not sure. I tried two silk houses of fairly decent size, and both turned me down for the order being too small. Established old businesses already have steady clients, so I would imagine they would be even less inclined to take it on."

Jie Yu'an listened to the sounds of him eating and was quiet for a moment, then asked abruptly: "Which bowl is that?"

Ji Qingzhou was puzzled at first, then glanced at the ladle in his hand as he was refilling his bowl and caught on. He clicked his tongue lightly: "Third bowl. What of it? Your family's bowls are so small. I am a man of one meter eighty, surely three bowls at a meal is not unreasonable?"

Jie Yu'an did not argue the point and steered the conversation back: "Have you considered approaching it from a different angle?"

"A different angle?" Ji Qingzhou frowned: "Are we still talking about eating? Eat more meat and vegetables, have two fewer bowls of rice?"

Jie Yu'an pressed his lips together with a faint air of exasperation and said: "You could consider selling the pattern designs to a silk house."

Ji Qingzhou saw it at once: "I did not expect you to actually be thinking up ideas for me in earnest. Truly moving."

He thought it over for a few seconds, decided it was actually quite a good idea, then immediately had a new doubt: "But what if they are not interested in my designs?"

"That would be your problem."

"Keep that to yourself. I do not need you to remind me."

Having a workable plan in hand, Ji Qingzhou felt his mood ease somewhat compared to before.

He ate and arranged things as he spoke: "Tomorrow I will go and try the long-established houses you mentioned. If they like my designs, all the better. If not, I will just have to regretfully let this order go.

"Either way, I will have plenty to keep me busy going forward. Besides the customers' orders, there is also your mother's jacket and the little dress I promised Lingling."

"Lingling?"

"Jie Linglong. Did I not say I would have her in a little dress by May? It is already nearly the end of April. Time really does fly..."

Ji Qingzhou mused at a leisurely pace: "So for the next two days or so, I likely will not be back for lunch. You should understand, right?"

Jie Yu'an: "Why not just live outside altogether?"

"You are just hoping I will be stuck at the shop for months and never come home, aren't you?"

Ji Qingzhou let out a cold laugh and deliberately lowered his voice into a menacing tone: "Dream on. Not only am I coming back every evening to freeload off your family's meals, I am also going to commandeer your bed and haunt you like a nightmare in the dead of night."

"Childish," Jie Yu'an gave a scoff, turned his head away, lips pressed into a flat line, looking as though he could not be bothered to spare him another word.

Ji Qingzhou watched his expression with great interest, thinking that if Jie Yu'an's eyes still worked, he would surely be unable to stop himself from rolling them enormously right now.

The exchange came to an end, and the room fell suddenly quiet, with only the occasional clink of bowl and chopsticks breaking the silence.

The atmosphere hovering over the small round dining table was not particularly warm, yet Jie Yu'an made no move to leave. He simply sat in his chair in perfect stillness, waiting.

Until Ji Qingzhou finished his meal, at which point the two of them rose together and went back to the bedroom.

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