TRCT_21

Chapter 21: A Self-Imposed Penalty Cup — Physical Attraction

Stepping back out from that dim, foul atmosphere and into the sunlit street, Ji Qingzhou felt as though every part of him had been cleansed.

He walked along the street for about ten meters or so, then suddenly stopped, changed direction, and made his way purposefully through an lane toward Baike Road.

He walked without the slightest concern that anyone might come after him.

Once he had made his identity known, that man surnamed Gu, despite having taken a punch, had not dared to detain him further. He had instead forced out something resembling a smile and had his bouncers see him out.

The name of Chairman Jie clearly carried very considerable weight in Shanghai.

Still, he would need to mention the matter to Jie Jianshan when he got back, so that if word of it reached the Jie family, they would not mistakenly think he had been out all day making trouble and throwing the Jie family name around.

Having spent over half an hour at the Grand View Teahouse, it was nearly five o'clock by the time he emerged.

At this point Ji Qingzhou had little patience left for business negotiations and simply wanted to get back and eat and rest. However, considering that the last silk house he had planned to visit, Shang Ji Cloth Shop, was right on Baike Road and not far off, he decided to stop in while he was at it.

Compared to the bustling liveliness of Nanjing Road, Baike Road was considerably quieter, with residential areas scattered along both sides.

Though Shang Ji Cloth Shop was a long-established cloth merchant, the shop itself was not large: purely traditional Chinese in its decor, with only a single young assistant minding the counter.

Looking at the assistant's listless manner, Ji Qingzhou reckoned that if he tried to pitch his designs to him, the assistant would most likely brush him off with the excuse of "the owner is out and I have no authority to decide," so instead, as he had done the day before, he simply took out the design sketch he needed most and asked whether custom printing could be arranged.

The young assistant looked at the sketch, considered for a few seconds, and said: "For dyeing and printing you would need to ask Old Madam Shang. If she says it can be done, it can be done."

"And Old Madam Shang is?"

"Our owner at Shang Ji," The assistant pointed to the signboard nailed to the door column: "She is at the warehouse in Xiangde Li taking inventory right now. Just a few dozen steps into the lane, number 107. You could go and ask her yourself."

"Xiangde Li, is it? Many thanks."

Ji Qingzhou gave a slight smile and nodded. After the ordeal of Gu Bosheng's enthusiastic reception, the shop assistant's easy, take-it-or-leave-it manner was actually quite a relief.

Coming out of the cloth shop, Ji Qingzhou followed the direction the assistant had indicated and walked fifty or sixty meters to the right, where he spotted the archway of Xiangde Li.

Stepping into the lane, he was met with rows of Western-style red brick buildings, the gaps between the houses narrow, clotheslines strung overhead in dense rows.

The declining sun cast its light on the attic dormer windows on one side of the rooftops, the lane sparsely peopled, with the occasional bird darting past and trailing a dappled silhouette across the windows.

Ji Qingzhou walked at a brisk pace through the lane, with its strong sense of lived-in life, and found Shang Ji's warehouse in about two minutes.

He knocked on the door of number 107, and before long a well-mannered young man in a silk changpao came to open it. After hearing Ji Qingzhou's purpose, he politely showed him inside.

Passing through the heavy black door, he entered a small courtyard within.

The young man asked Ji Qingzhou to wait there, then walked quickly into what would once have been the main hall but had since been converted into a warehouse, and called his mother out.

Ji Qingzhou was taking in his surroundings with curious eyes when in a moment he saw a traditionally dressed woman emerge from the doorway across the courtyard. She must be the owner of Shang Ji.

"You say Old Master Wang quoted you a hundred silver dollars? That is not even a matter of greed anymore. He was plainly telling you he did not want your business."

Old Madam Shang looked over his sketch and spoke with him in a candid manner: "At twenty-five yuan, commissioning a bolt of Hangzhou crepe can be done and still turn a profit, though not by much. If you do not mind my continuing to use your design after the fact, there is no reason we cannot take on this order."

Ji Qingzhou had not been holding out much hope at all by this point, but hearing her words, a flame rekindled in his chest: "You can really do it?"

"It can be done, but given the cost constraints, we would not be able to use the best dyes. The colors would likely fall a bit short, and the pattern would not come out very fine. It depends on whether that is acceptable to you."

He knew it was never going to be that simple.

What Old Madam Shang was telling him, in essence, was that to make this deal work, he would not only have to give away his design for nothing, but after paying a high price he would only receive a bolt of fabric with color discrepancies. That was rather a raw deal.

Ji Qingzhou sighed with regret and declined politely: "Let me go home and think it over. I am sorry for the trouble."

Coming out through the gate of number 107, Ji Qingzhou could not help feeling somewhat deflated after yet another setback.

The reason he had put so much effort into finding a cloth merchant who could do custom printing was not only to fulfill Shi Xuanman's order, but also with an eye to his own longer-term development.

As long as he was in this trade, sooner or later he would need to find one or two trustworthy fabric merchants for long-term cooperation. Otherwise he would be stuck using whatever ready-made fabrics others already had in stock, at most making some modifications to the material, which was far too limiting and simply not distinctive enough.

Beyond that, he also needed to find a reliable dry cleaner or laundry to help him with the pre-shrinking and preparation of fabrics. That would save a great deal of time.

But given his current shortage of funds, the latter was something he would manage on his own for now.

As for the former, that too appeared to be severely constrained by money at present.

Drifting toward the lane entrance, Ji Qingzhou had already made up his mind within those few dozen steps to return Shi Xuanman's deposit.

He assessed the direction at the lane entrance and was just about to turn left and walk back to the Jie family mansion, when a figure suddenly shot out from the lane across the way.

The disheveled man looked left and right, then abruptly locked eyes with Ji Qingzhou, and came charging straight toward him.

Ji Qingzhou assumed he was heading into the lane, and had barely stepped aside against the wall when the man grabbed hold of his arm.

The man begged urgently: "Sir, sir, please help me..."

What was this? A robbery in broad daylight?

That was Ji Qingzhou's first thought, and he instinctively clutched his satchel tighter. Then he noticed the pair of eyes beneath the man's disheveled dark hair, eyes with a naturally detached quality to them, and remembered that the two of them had seen each other an hour earlier, separated by the bars of a cage.

With clothes on, he had almost not recognized him.

A few pursuing figures had begun to appear faintly in the lane across the way, and in an instant Ji Qingzhou had a fairly clear picture of the situation.

He grabbed the young man's wrist in turn, pulled him along, and ran at a brisk pace into the lane, quickly knocking on the door of Shang Ji's warehouse.

The same well-mannered young man opened the door. Ji Qingzhou had no time to exchange pleasantries and brought the person inside first, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind them.

He waited in silence for a few seconds and, hearing no sound of footsteps in pursuit, finally let out a breath and smiled at the young man in the changpao: "I forgot to ask just now, might I trouble you for a glass of water? I am rather thirsty."

The young man frowned and looked at the disheveled figure standing beside Ji Qingzhou: "And this is?"

"My assistant. He came to find me about something at the shop."

"I see," The young man gave a mild nod: "Let me get you some water then. Does this young fellow need some as well?"

The boy stood silently behind Ji Qingzhou with his head bowed, so Ji Qingzhou answered on his behalf: "Please."

Once the young man had gone into the kitchen on the west side to fetch water, Ji Qingzhou turned to look at the boy and lowered his voice: "Those were the teahouse bouncers just now, weren't they? You got out?"

The boy gave a silent nod, a trace of panic and bewilderment still lingering on his pale face.

Ji Qingzhou looked him over quietly for a moment.

The boy had on a coarse short shirt washed to a pale, faded color, a pair of patched, gathered trousers, and worn-out straw sandals on his feet.

His black hair, grown nearly to his collar, lay disheveled against his cheeks, and his body still carried the particular smell of that third-floor room, a mix of smoke and sweat. The overall impression was one of considerable scruffiness, which explained why the young man in the changpao had looked at him with such suspicion.

There was no time to ask too much before the young man returned with cool tea.

Seeming to sense that they needed to talk, he set the teapot on the step and went back into the side room.

Ji Qingzhou gestured for the boy to sit on the step and rest, then picked up the teapot and poured him a cup.

Once the boy had gulped down the whole cup and his breathing had steadied, Ji Qingzhou continued: "What happened?"

The boy moistened his lips, looked up at Ji Qingzhou, and said in a hoarse voice: "They promised two silver dollars per time, but they have already owed me six. I went to ask Manager Gu for the money just now, and he refused, so I... I punched him and ran."

"You punched him too?" Ji Qingzhou raised an eyebrow, struggling to keep from laughing: "That fellow really had it coming."

Then the implication of the boy's words sank in and his brow furrowed: "Wait. This work you were doing, it was voluntary?"

Earlier, hearing Gu Bosheng refer to the people in the cages as 'playthings' one after another, he had assumed the boy had been sold by his family or was being kept captive by the man surnamed Gu. But from what the boy was saying now, it seemed that was not quite the case.

"Someone introduced me to it. They said the money was quick," The boy kept his eyes lowered, his hands fidgeting as he gripped the empty teacup: "But I have offended them now. There is no getting the money back."

"Do you need money urgently?"

"My mother is ill and needs medicine. The consultation and medicine fees are expensive, three or four yuan per visit, fifteen or sixteen yuan a month."

A flush crept across the boy's cheeks as he explained: "I work at a match factory. I work from before dawn to after dark, and only earn three jiao a day, nine yuan a month, which is nowhere near enough. So..."

"I see. I would like to help you, but I do not have much money either."

Ji Qingzhou could tell that the boy was not really willing to talk about these humiliating experiences. For him to lay bare his own wounds and present himself in such a pitiful light, he was most likely hoping to get some financial help out of him.

The boy gave a nod and said no more, his tone dropping low: "I will not trouble you any further. Thank you for helping me just now."

With that, he placed the teacup on the tray and stood up to leave.

"...Wait," Ji Qingzhou stopped him and stood to face him directly.

The boy looked young, yet his height was nearly level with Ji Qingzhou's own, perhaps even two or three centimeters taller. So even with his head bowed, Ji Qingzhou could still make out his face fairly clearly.

But the boy's disheveled hair falling on both sides was too distracting. Ji Qingzhou simply reached out and gathered it all up to the top of his head in one sweep.

The boy saw his hand coming toward him and instinctively wanted to pull back, but in the end chose to stay perfectly still and let him do as he pleased.

The lighting on the third floor of the Grand View Teahouse had been dim, and Ji Qingzhou had only been struck by the proud, all-dismissing quality of his gaze.

Now, looking carefully at close range, he realized the boy's face was actually quite young and unformed, with high cheekbones and a pair of willow-leaf eyes that seemed to ripple with depth, his light brown pupils clear and limpid, carrying a kind of unknowing innocence, like a country boy who had not yet learned the ways of the world.

"Come with me," Ji Qingzhou let go and turned to walk out the door.

He had ultimately decided to help him, not out of sympathy for what he had been through, but simply because he happened to recall that he needed an assistant and a fitting model, and the boy's looks and build were a good enough match for what he had in mind.

.

By the time they got back to the garment shop in Love Lane, the sun was nearly setting.

Ji Qingzhou led the boy inside, switched on the electric light, pulled the door shut, then fished out a leather-cased measuring tape from his tool basket and turned to the boy, who was standing blankly beside the sewing machine: "Take off your shirt."

The boy paused, a flash of alarm crossing his eyes, but upon noticing the measuring tape in Ji Qingzhou's hand and recognizing what it was for, he quietly slipped off his shirt.

His skin was a shade or two fairer than his face. Perhaps from years of physical labor, a thin layer of muscle lay beneath the surface, and from what had happened not long before, red marks still lingered on his chest, back, and especially his neck, lending a raw note of color to this young, unformed body.

Ji Qingzhou looked him over carefully, until the boy's neck had turned visibly red, then reined in his gaze and moved around to his back to take his measurements.

"You just followed along like that. Aren't you afraid I might sell you off?"

Noticing the boy's body was somewhat tense, he used conversation to distract him.

"I saw you punch Manager Gu. I thought you seemed like a good person."

"It is rare to have someone call me a good person. Young eyes see clearly," Ji Qingzhou laughed with genuine pleasure.

"Height five chi two, approximately one meter eighty-two, shoulder width fifty-three, chest one hundred, waist seventy-five..."

"Lean overall, but good proportions. It is rare to see someone as tall as you around here..."

"Alright, put your shirt back on," A moment later, Ji Qingzhou finished the measurements, recorded the figures in his notebook, then looked up suddenly: "I forgot to ask. What is your name?"

"Zhu Renqing," The boy pulled his shirt back on with practiced ease as he answered: "The teacher at the charity school I attended gave me that name. He said he hoped I would be like bamboo, resilient and upright, evergreen through all four seasons."

"A good name," Ji Qingzhou nodded: "You went to school, so you can read?"

"Not a great deal, but I will work hard to learn more."

"Mm... How old are you?"

Zhu Renqing hesitated for a moment, then answered honestly: "I was born in the ninth month of the Gengzi year."

"Gengzi year, 1900, so not yet eighteen..."

Recalling the scene he had witnessed that afternoon, Ji Qingzhou cursed those people inwardly once more.

He then closed his notebook, capped his pen, and looked at Zhu Renqing: "I still need an assistant and a model. If you are willing to come and work for me, I will pay you twenty silver dollars a month."

Upon hearing that figure, Zhu Renqing answered almost without thinking: "Yes, sir."

Ji Qingzhou had been about to explain what a "model" was, but the boy did not ask at all, which Ji Qingzhou found rather amusing: "You really will do anything for money."

With that, he stood and went to open the shop door, picking up his jacket and satchel: "From now on, come in at nine in the morning each day. Closing time varies, but when it is not busy it is generally around five or six in the afternoon. As for lunch, I will cover that for you.

"If you need money urgently, tomorrow I will write you a note to advance five yuan of your wages. But I will also need to come by and visit your home tomorrow at noon."

"I have not lied to you," Zhu Renqing instinctively moved to defend himself.

"I know. But I still need to go and see for myself before I feel at ease," Ji Qingzhou stated his position plainly.

His funds were already tight enough as it was. If his sympathy got the better of him and he ended up being deceived, and that sharp-tongued one at home found out, he would probably be mocked about it for half a year.

"Then I will let my mother know tomorrow," Zhu Renqing answered in a low, husky voice, thinking to himself that he needed to give that messy, dirty room of his a thorough clean before the visit.

"Alright, it is getting late. Off you go."

Ji Qingzhou put on his jacket, waited for Zhu Renqing to say goodbye and walk out of the shop, then fished out his key and locked the door.

He had barely pulled out the key and dropped it into his bag when he turned around to find a familiar face standing right behind him, seemingly having appeared from nowhere.

Ji Qingzhou startled and took a step back, then looked up with a puzzled expression.

"A' You?" He swept a surprised glance up and down at the close-cropped head before him, half wondering if his eyes were playing tricks: "What are you doing here?"

In his mind, Huang Youshu was like an NPC with a fixed spawn point, his range of movement limited strictly to the Jie family mansion.

So seeing him turn up outside, and especially outside his shop door, felt genuinely novel and unexpected.

Huang Youshu seemed quite curious about the shop, glancing around in both directions before answering with a smile: "The young master is treating guests to dinner at Zhuangyuan Lou and would like to bring you along, sir."

"He is treating guests? Who is coming?" Ji Qingzhou turned to look toward the lane entrance, and sure enough spotted a familiar motor car.

The thought of Jie Yu'an sitting inside waiting at this very moment stirred an inexplicably funny feeling in him.

This fellow actually takes the initiative to go out sometimes. He had assumed the man was part snail. What a surprise.

"Young Master Luo and Mr. Qiu, along with a few of the young master's secondary school classmates."

Those two childhood friends again...

Ji Qingzhou gave an indifferent nod: "Alright then, let's go."

The Jie family car was parked beneath the paulownia trees across the road, the windows reflecting fragments of sky cut through by the shadows of branches.

Huang Youshu, walking ahead, first opened the rear door for Ji Qingzhou before going around to the driver's side, bending down and climbing in.

"A' You, you can drive? Impressive!" Ji Qingzhou called out with an amused laugh.

He was just about to duck into the car when he caught sight of Jie Yu'an waiting inside, and was momentarily caught off guard. He paused for two seconds, then settled in as though nothing had happened and pulled the door shut.

"I did not know how to several months ago. Madam told me I had to have my driving license before the young master returned to the country, so I learned from Brother Xiao Li."

"Is that so," Ji Qingzhou gave a distracted murmur, his attention already entirely on the person beside him.

In the short two minutes after getting into the car, he turned to look at Jie Yu'an four or five times.

It was no wonder his eyes kept wandering. Jie Yu'an, who had worn a changpao and mandarin jacket every single day for the past month and a half, had now changed into a black suit.

"Is this the new suit Yuxiang delivered?" Ji Qingzhou finally collected his thoughts enough to ask.

"Yes," Jie Yu'an responded, leaning back against the seat in a relaxed posture, his pale, slender hands, fine as jade below his black cuffs, idly stroking the head of his ebony walking cane.

Ji Qingzhou searched for something to say: "Your presence and bearing lean toward the cool side. Compared to the softer lines of a changpao, an upright Western suit suits you better."

"Oh," Jie Yu'an replied with minimal interest.

Ji Qingzhou paid no mind to the lack of enthusiasm, and taking advantage of the fact that the man could not see, leaned forward and rested his chin in his hand to take in his features at leisure.

The suit Jie Yu'an was wearing had a vertical stripe pattern, and it suited him perfectly, with his tall and upright bearing.

The well-cut jacket traced the broad line of his shoulders perfectly. A dark green silk tie was tucked beneath the black waistcoat, the sharply pressed trousers encasing a pair of long legs, and below the cuffs a pair of black brogue leather shoes.

His hair had clearly been carefully groomed as well. The strands that usually fell loosely across his forehead had been mostly slicked back with pomade, with only a few at the temples left to fall naturally.

The eyes beneath his hair were still covered by the black gauze bandage, and the deep black of his outfit threw his pale complexion and the sharp line of his nose into sharper relief, making him look all the more mature and cold.

For some reason, Ji Qingzhou suddenly found himself thinking of the first time he had seen him.

At that first meeting, Jie Yu'an had been sitting quietly in a chair wearing an ink-black changpao, wearing much the same expressionless look as now, and Ji Qingzhou had been struck by him even then.

Physical attraction is a strange thing, Ji Qingzhou thought to himself.

Not long ago he had found a model whose measurements and proportions met his aesthetic in every regard. Yet when he looked at Zhu Renqing, it was like appreciating a work of art bestowed by a god of beauty. He could perceive the beauty in the lines of the boy's muscles and bones, yet found himself incapable of any thought that crossed the line.

And then there were some people who, even when wrapped up completely, with not even a glimpse of their eyes to go by, could still strike him right in the chest the moment they changed their appearance unexpectedly, drawing his eyes without his consent, setting his heart adrift.

Even though he had long known the person was not his type in terms of personality.

He had been watching with studied composure for quite some time when Huang Youshu wrenched the steering wheel hard to avoid a pedestrian who had darted out suddenly, and Ji Qingzhou, thrown against the car door, finally gathered his scattered thoughts back together.

"What happened?" he asked Huang Youshu.

"It is fine, it is fine, we avoided it just in time," Huang Youshu wiped his forehead: "I will drive slower, slower."

Ji Qingzhou let out a breath of relief and was about to ask Jie Yu'an whether he had been startled when he turned and noticed the tie had shifted slightly: "Your tie is crooked. Shall I straighten it for you?"

Jie Yu'an said nothing, but tilted his chin up.

Ji Qingzhou leaned over and adjusted the tie back into place.

Jie Yu'an sat through the whole thing without any expression, but just as Ji Qingzhou was about to draw back and settle into his seat, the other man suddenly reached up and grabbed his wrist.

Ji Qingzhou: "?"

Jie Yu'an's brow furrowed. He released his hand and said with a sharp edge to his tone: "Where have you been? Your hand reeks of smoke."

"Ah?" Ji Qingzhou raised his hand and sniffed at his cuff, finding that there was indeed a lingering smell.

The strange thing was, he had not spent very long on the third floor of the teahouse. Could it have rubbed off from Zhu Renqing?

"What a nose you have on you..."

"Where have you been?" Jie Yu'an asked again.

"Oh, you can talk. I went to the long-established silk houses like you suggested to discuss business, and ended up being lured by some sanctimonious fellow into an opium den."

Ji Qingzhou added some embellishment: "That old scoundrel took a liking to my looks and wanted to make me his kept lover. Naturally I refused, and when he kept pestering me and would not let me leave, I knocked him flat with one punch. He could barely get up."

Up front, A' You nearly wrenched the steering wheel the wrong way again upon hearing this extraordinary account.

Jie Yu'an, on the other hand, remained perfectly composed and asked: "Who?"

"Why do you want to know so much? Are you going to avenge me if I tell you?"

"Just curious which useless person cannot even beat you."

"You say that as though you would do much better," Ji Qingzhou muttered, then feigned an offhand tone: "The manager of "Xinshun'an". His name is Gu Bosheng. He seems to be one of Young Master Bao's men. Either way, a minor figure. The moment I mentioned my father-in-law was Jie Jianshan, he was so frightened he tripped over himself to send me on my way."

"Father-in-law?"

"A slip of the tongue. Uncle-in-law." Ji Qingzhou smiled, then steered the conversation elsewhere: "Why are you treating guests all of a sudden? Is something good happening?"

Jie Yu'an tilted his head slightly toward him upon hearing this and said: "Someone is about to meet the Mr. Qiu he has long admired. Does that count as good news?"

He knew this fellow was never up to anything good.

Ji Qingzhou turned wordlessly to look out the car window, not bothering to respond.

The rest of the journey passed in quiet, with nothing but the soft rush of wind in their ears.

About ten minutes or so later, Huang Youshu drove the car to Zhuangyuan Lou at the corner of the street and parked in the open area at the entrance.

By then the sky had grown dark, and the breeze that brushed their faces carried a cool dampness, the restaurant blazing with light against the vast dark of the night.

After getting out of the car, Huang Youshu went ahead to clear the way, while Ji Qingzhou walked on Jie Yu'an's left, resting one hand lightly on his forearm to guide him gently and steer him clear of the crowd.

Despite its name sounding like a purely traditional Chinese establishment, Zhuangyuan Lou's exterior was a Western-style brick and stone structure, with only the red-lacquered entrance doors and gold-lettered plaque carrying a sense of old-world dignity.

"Doing excellent business. What kind of cuisine do they serve?" Ji Qingzhou asked the person beside him, looking at the steady stream of guests flowing in and out of the entrance.

"Qiu Wenxin suggested it. A newly opened Ningbo restaurant," For once, Jie Yu'an gave a reply without any trace of sarcasm.

Ji Qingzhou turned to give him a glance or two, thinking to himself that though this fellow appeared calm on the surface, being a blind person in a busy, crowded place like this must inevitably bring a certain degree of tension.

"Ningbo cuisine. I have not had much of it, actually..."

Ji Qingzhou was guiding him to the steps at the entrance of the restaurant, just about to warn him about the two stairs ahead, when a vigorous, high-spirited male voice rang out.

"Brother Yuan! You have finally honored us with your presence. I have been waiting at the door for a good while now. Everyone else is here, you two are the only ones we were missing!"

Ji Qingzhou looked up at the voice and saw a tall, lean young man in a flashily decorated shiny silk changpao trotting over with an expression of delight, who without a word grabbed Jie Yu'an's right elbow and made to help him up the stairs.

Jie Yu'an shook his arm free without any change of expression and gave the young man two sharp raps on the leg with his walking cane, making it quite clear he should step aside.

Far from being offended by the strike, the boy sidestepped with his wide grin still firmly in place, and called out helpfully: "Careful, careful, there are two steps here. Don't take a tumble!"

Once Jie Yu'an had made it up the stairs, the young man turned his eyes on Ji Qingzhou and said: "Ji Yunqing, long time no see. Oh wait, should I be calling you Ji Qingzhou now? Brother Yuan said you changed your name!"

Ji Qingzhou let his gaze wander across the slicked center-parted hair and dark-complexioned face for a few seconds before asking: "You must be Young Master Luo?"

"What is this, you do not remember me?"

Luo Mingxuan pulled off his glasses and opened his eyes wide: "Can you recognize me now? Back when you were at Dangui Garden I was a regular in the audience. And as for the business between you and Brother Yuan, it was actually me who... ow!"

He had not even finished speaking before Jie Yu'an struck him again with the cane.

Luo Mingxuan took the hit and realized his voice had been too loud. He slipped around to Ji Qingzhou's side, put his glasses back on with an air of nonchalance, and lowered his volume: "It was actually me who introduced you two."

"Was that so?" Ji Qingzhou asked with perfect composure, chatting as he guided Jie Yu'an over the red-lacquered threshold of the restaurant and made his way toward the east staircase, following the direction Luo Mingxuan was pointing.

"You have forgotten? Which time was it, let me think, oh right! The wedding banquet for Old Master Liu Jinchang, held at the Xinlong Hotel. You were invited to perform, remember?

"At the time, Uncle Jie was putting out word through his connections looking for someone born on the fifth day of the intercalary fifth month. I happened to be chatting with you then, thought of it, and on a whim asked you about your birth date. Never expected I would actually find the right person."

Luo Mingxuan's mouth rattled on like a string of firecrackers. Without Ji Qingzhou having to ask much at all, he laid out the whole story from beginning to end.

"And when Old Madam Jie arranged to meet you, I was the one who made the connection. How have you forgotten all of it? You really do lead a busy life..."

Born on the fifth day of the intercalary fifth month? So that was the condition for the marriage arrangement?

Ji Qingzhou's lunar birthday did fall on the Dragon Boat Festival, but certainly not in an intercalary fifth month. However, he did recall his family mentioning that there had been two Dragon Boat Festivals in the year he was born.

He had not expected Ji Yunqing's birthday to also fall on the Dragon Boat Festival. What a coincidence.

Same surname, similar appearance, and even the same lunar birthday. If not him, then who would have crossed over?

Ji Qingzhou marveled inwardly at this absurd twist of fate, and catching Luo Mingxuan staring at him with an expression of disbelief out of the corner of his eye, gave an easy smile and said:

"I have not forgotten. But I am no longer the Ji Yunqing from Dangui Garden. We should get to know each other properly."

"Ah, that is what you mean, I understand," Luo Mingxuan had a moment of realization, assuming he simply wanted to shed his past identity as a performer and had staged this whole affair with that in mind.

"Alright then, let us start over," The man gave his own chest a confident pat: "My name is Luo Mingxuan, and I am Brother Yuan's best brother!"

Jie Yu'an responded to this with a low hum of indeterminate meaning.

"Well, aside from Brother Yuchuan," Luo Mingxuan scratched his chin and hastily added the qualifier.

"Young Master Luo's reputation precedes him. I have heard a great deal," Ji Qingzhou replied obligingly.

The man's name had indeed come up quite a few times among the Jie family, and the impression that had stuck with him most was that he kept a dog named 'Fu Wang Cai Wang Yunqi Wang'.

"Don't call me Young Master Luo, that's too formal. You can call me Xiao Ming, Xiao Xuan, or if you don't mind, Brother Luo works too, hehe... oh, we're going upstairs, Brother Yuan watch your step..."

Amidst Luo Mingxuan's running commentary, the group made their way to a private room on the second floor.

It was called a private room, but was in reality a partitioned seating area separated by two screens, with the chatter and toasting of nearby guests clearly audible on all sides.

As Luo Mingxuan had said, the two of them were the last to arrive.

Three people were already seated around the large round table. The two on the left were both impeccably dressed in Western suits, wearing glasses, with the polished look of business professionals. Upon seeing Luo Mingxuan arrive with the others, they stood to offer their greetings, while the man on the right, dressed in a grey changpao, round-faced and slightly stocky, sat without moving and simply tilted his head up to give Ji Qingzhou a friendly smile.

By those distinctive thick brows and wide eyes, and the gentle, almost ingenuous quality of his expression, Ji Qingzhou recognized him at once as the celebrated writer of later generations, Qiu Wenxin.

"Come in, come in, everyone is here now, please sit!" Luo Mingxuan enthusiastically arranged for Ji Qingzhou and Jie Yu'an to take the inner seats at the table, as though he himself were the one hosting the dinner.

He then stretched out an arm toward Ji Qingzhou by way of introduction: "The one next to me, you must have heard of him. Qiu Wenxin, Brother Xin! The only one among us who makes his living by the pen, the so-called chief editor whose single pen is worth three thousand Mausers. In other words, the one person you cannot afford to offend."

Qiu Wenxin immediately waved his hand in protest: "Oh, pay him no mind. I am nothing more than a humble food critic."

Luo Mingxuan paid this no attention, keeping his exaggerated expression firmly in place as he pointed to the young man in a grey Western suit sitting diagonally across: "This fine-looking gentleman goes by the name Jiang Xuehong, from Hangzhou, a renowned attorney of considerable reputation."

"And this one here, looking every bit the distinguished gentleman, is our friend from Changshu, by the name Xu Changji, the future manager of the Bank of Communications!"

The man in a navy serge suit, whose lower jaw jutted out slightly, nearly spat at that and laughed with mock indignation: "You rascal, stop pinning ridiculous titles on me!"

"I am encouraging you. Why are you cursing at me?" Luo Mingxuan tilted his head with a show of bewilderment, but before anyone else could respond, he could no longer hold it together and burst out laughing himself.

Still chuckling, he turned to make a proper introduction to the two across the table: "This is Ji Qingzhou, Brother Yuan's distant cousin, currently staying as a guest at Brother Yuan's home."

Cousin? Ji Qingzhou could not help but glance sideways at Jie Yu'an beside him.

He did know he was older than Jie Yu'an, but perhaps because the man gave an impression of considerable maturity, the age difference rarely registered in their day-to-day interactions. So hearing Luo Mingxuan's choice of words felt unexpectedly odd.

He quietly nudged Jie Yu'an's arm with his elbow and said in a voice meant only for the two of them: "Jie Yuanyuan, go on and call me Cousin?"

The corner of Jie Yu'an's mouth twitched, nearly imperceptibly. He picked up his teacup and took a sip as though he had heard nothing.

Ji Qingzhou laughed inwardly, then turned back to the newly acquainted group, giving each a smile and nod in greeting, before asking: "Have the dishes been ordered yet?"

"Done ages ago. Brother Xin ordered. He is an expert at ordering food, anything like this you just leave to him. Every restaurant in Shanghai, from the grand foreign-run hotels down to the hole-in-the-wall street stalls, which one has he not been to? Right, Brother Xin?" Luo Mingxuan gave Qiu Wenxin a pat on the shoulder.

Qiu Wenxin nodded with a cheerful grin: "I also ordered a few jin* of Jingzhuang yellow wine. If anyone wants something else, just call the server over."

*t/n; a traditional Chinese unit of weight. 1 jin ≈ 500 grams.

"A little wine to liven things up is fine, but no need to order too much. This is not a business dinner," Jiang Xuehong, whose face had a settled, older look, said with an easy smile: "Besides, Yu'an is still in recovery. How can he be drinking?"

Luo Mingxuan agreed wholeheartedly and raised his chin: "Well said, Brother Jiang. Tonight we brothers are gathered together, primarily to celebrate our Brother Yuan's safe return, secondly to introduce everyone to a new friend, namely our Brother Ji. And thirdly, to try out this newly opened restaurant and give our great literary master Qiu some material for his writing!"

Xu Changji deliberately raised one hand to cover his ear, wearing an expression of exaggerated distaste: "Would you please rein in that booming voice of yours? Have you not noticed that the tables around us have all gone quiet? If not for the screens, I would be embarrassed enough to crawl under the table. The entire second floor is nothing but your barking!"

"Hey, you Changshu fellow!"

Luo Mingxuan was just about to rise and give the man across from him a piece of his mind when two restaurant servers came in carrying trays, diffusing the impending confrontation in the nick of time.

The Ningbo cuisine here made its name on seafood.

Braised eel, saltwater clams, whole braised yellow croaker, stir-fried razor clams, along with two seasonal vegetable dishes, filled the table in short order.

In the center was a plate of cold poached goose, the meat sliced thin and layered in a footed dish, looking like an ideal accompaniment to wine.

As the servers brought in a warmed jar of Shaoxing wine, the group picked up their chopsticks and began eating.

Following the habit he had developed at home, Ji Qingzhou first served Jie Yu'an a bowl of rice and helped himself to some dishes that were easy to eat and more presentable at the table.

Noticing that the suitable options were somewhat limited, he then used the serving chopsticks to pick out some razor clams, removed the meat from the shells, and placed it in his dish bowl.

As for the yellow croaker, though its bones were fewer than most fish, Ji Qingzhou worried that being careless he might not pick them all out cleanly and end up getting a bone caught in Jie Yu'an's throat, so he left it alone.

Qiu Wenxin, watching him carefully pick out the razor clam meat, looked rather abashed: "It is a good thing Brother Ji is here. I had not thought of any of this, and ordered nothing but things with shells and bones."

Luo Mingxuan had been sucking on saltwater clams, and upon hearing this immediately spat out a shell, set down his chopsticks, and stood up: "Let me go and order a few more dishes. Brother Yuan, what would you like?"

Jie Yu'an shook his head: "No need. Food holds little importance for me."

Ji Qingzhou knew this was not mere politeness and added: "Just eat as you please. He has always had a small appetite."

"Alright then. If you want anything later, just say the word," Luo Mingxuan got up in a flurry and sat back down again in the same flurry, and the drinking and chatting resumed.

A gathering of men over a meal invariably turned to talk of work, current affairs, and women.

Calls for judicial independence, some newspaper withholding wages and article fees, some gentleman caught at a pleasure house by his wife and facing a divorce, that sort of thing, interspersed with complaints and reminiscences of the past.

Ji Qingzhou knew little about any of these matters and stayed out of the conversation, quietly playing the role of listener, occasionally picking out morsels for Jie Yu'an, who was likewise listening in silence.

Jiang Xuehong noticed this, and perhaps wanting to draw Ji Qingzhou into the group, specifically turned to ask: "I was not aware that Yu'an had a cousin. Brother Ji, you have not been in Shanghai long, I take it? Have you found a line of work?"

Ji Qingzhou picked up his wine cup, took a gentle sip, and replied: "Me? I have opened a small clothing shop for the time being."

He had expected this sort of profession to barely register among men of their standing, but Luo Mingxuan, who had been eating meat with great enthusiasm beside him, suddenly looked up and stared wide-eyed.

"A clothing shop? You have changed trades and opened a clothing shop? Then we are practically in the same line of work!"

"Same line of work?" Ji Qingzhou looked equally surprised.

"It seems Brother Ji does not know yet?" Xu Changji glanced left and right, as though he had finally found his moment, and immediately raised his chopsticks to point accusingly at Luo Mingxuan: "This is your fault, you scoundrel. All that time helping us boast about ourselves, and somehow you forgot to mention anything about your own name?"

Luo Mingxuan had barely opened his mouth when Xu Changji cut him off and turned to Ji Qingzhou with a broad smile: "Allow me to make an introduction, Brother Ji. Young Master Luo, grandson of a board director of the Suzhou Silk Industry Association, and the future master and proprietor of Taiming Xiang!"

"Hey, don't talk nonsense. I have no ability to inherit the family business. I am a blockhead through and through, the undisputed champion of idle living! Besides, I have an elder brother who is far more capable than I am!"

Whether from too much drink or embarrassment, two patches of red rapidly spread across Luo Mingxuan's cheeks, the flush standing out like highland color against his dark complexion.

What Ji Qingzhou had caught, however, was the name "Taiming Xiang".

Was that not the very first long-established silk house he had visited that afternoon? He had made a wasted trip because the proprietor was out, and it turned out to be the Luo family's own enterprise.

What extraordinary luck.

"You are really the young master of Taiming Xiang?" He asked Luo Mingxuan again as if to confirm, afraid these men might be talking nonsense from too much wine.

"If you insist on putting it that way, I suppose I am, but it is mainly my father and elder brother who manage the family business," Luo Mingxuan replied somewhat reluctantly.

Hearing this, Ji Qingzhou immediately picked up the wine jar and filled Luo Mingxuan's cup.

Then, under the man's slightly bewildered gaze, he raised his own cup and said with a bright smile: "Young Master Luo, come, allow me to drink to you!"

Luo Mingxuan raised his cup with a suspicious look and clinked it against his, but just as he was bringing it to his lips, he frowned, set the cup down with a sharp tap, and said loudly: "If you have something to ask, just say it. Whatever I can help with, I will!"

Seeing how direct he was, Ji Qingzhou stopped beating around the bush and with a smile explained what he needed.

"Is that all? Simple enough!" Luo Mingxuan had seen the build-up and thought some serious matter was being asked of him. Hearing it was only a matter of dyeing a bolt of fabric, he relaxed at once.

With not a little smugness he said: "To tell you the truth, the dyehouse my family runs in Shanghai is actually what I manage. Give me the design, and within three days I will have it done exactly as drawn!"

"Let me say upfront, my budget is limited. Twenty-five yuan at most," Seeing him make such sweeping promises, Ji Qingzhou was actually a little uneasy, and briefly mentioned his experience at Shang Ji that afternoon.

"Oh, Old Madam Shang was just trying to bluff you because you are young. In truth twenty-five yuan is more than enough, the cost would be covered by twenty. She wanted both your money and your design. That old woman is notorious in our trade for squeezing every last fen."

Luo Mingxuan spoke ill of others without the slightest hesitation, then patted his own chest again: "Leave this matter entirely to me. You can set your mind at complete ease."

At this point Ji Qingzhou had no other choice but to trust him.

"Shall we meet somewhere tomorrow morning so I can hand you the design?"

"Tomorrow morning I am going fishing with my cousin. The afternoon then, around three o'clock, I will come by your shop for a look. Where is your shop?"

"Love Lane, Shiji Clothing Shop."

Having said this, Ji Qingzhou noticed Luo Mingxuan's face was flushed from drinking and was not entirely confident in his memory, so he reached into his bag and pulled out a name card to hand over.

"Got it!" Luo Mingxuan took the card with easy good cheer, pocketed it without looking at it, and that was that.

With the problem that had been weighing on him for two days finally showing a way forward, Ji Qingzhou felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Of course, he was perfectly clear in his own mind who deserved the most credit for resolving the matter.

Anyone with eyes could see that the timing of his meeting with Luo Mingxuan was far too convenient. Just last evening someone had suggested he try selling designs to long-established silk houses, and tonight a dinner gathering of exactly the right people had somehow come together. To believe Jie Yu'an had had no hand in it would be something he absolutely refused to accept.

With that thought in mind, Ji Qingzhou used the motion of serving Jie Yu'an some food as cover to lean in and say quietly: "Thank you. You even went to the expense of hosting a dinner just to help me close this deal."

Jie Yu'an's chopsticks paused, and he was just about to speak when Ji Qingzhou got there first: "Getting carried away again, am I? No need to say it. I will pour myself a cup and drink it as penance!"

With that he leaned back into his chair, raised his cup, and drained it in one go.

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