trct_58

Chapter 58: Reflection

"You're all so slow. Good thing I got here early, or the shop's fellows would've been left standing outside baking in the sun waiting for you!"

The moment Luo Mingxuan spotted Ji Qingzhou and the others approaching the door, he leapt down from the chair and shouted.

"How did you even get in? You don't have a key, do you?" Ji Qingzhou asked, glancing in confusion at the wide-open front door.

"Ha, when I got here, I figured I'd try my luck seeing if I could climb in through a window, turned out, when I went around the side, the floor-to-ceiling doors of your side hall weren't locked at all! I gave the handle a light turn and it just opened right up!"

Luo Mingxuan stood with his hands on his hips, sounding rather pleased with himself, then abruptly shifted tone, putting on an air of grave concern to lecture him: "This is really your fault, you know, far too lax on security. How could you lock the front door but not the side one?"

Now that he mentioned it, that really had been an oversight on his part...

Since Luo Mingxuan had, after all, come to help out of good will, Ji Qingzhou decided not to hold it against him for haphazardly placing the furniture, and instead turned to have A' You keep an eye on his young master while he went inside to correct the arrangement of the furniture.

Though Luo Mingxuan had no idea how he wanted the place laid out, he had at least gotten the two large pieces into the right rooms—the light brown leather sofa in the downstairs reception room, and the dining table and chairs in the dining room.

Everything else, though, was in as much disarray as it could possibly be.

It took over an hour, with the help of Luo Mingxuan, the two friends he'd brought along, and the delivery workers from Changfeng Furniture, before the whole batch of furniture was finally settled into place.

By two in the afternoon, the summer heat was unbearable. After finishing with the furniture, everyone except Jie Yu'an—who, being unable to move around easily, had spent the whole time waiting on the sofa—was drenched in sweat.

Luo Mingxuan turned on the ceiling fan in the reception room and shut all the windows that had been letting in the hot outside air, then collapsed onto the sofa half-dead, lying motionless and panting.

Before the shop workers left, Ji Qingzhou made one final round upstairs and downstairs, checking that the furniture's count, dimensions, and quality were all in order, then saw the movers off. He wandered back into the reception room and sat down on the long sofa to rest, and only then found the chance to properly meet the two friends Luo Mingxuan had brought along.

One of them, a bespectacled man with a rather mature look about him, Ji Qingzhou already knew—he was the lawyer friend who'd been present that day at the banquet Jie Yu'an had hosted at Zhuangyuan Restaurant, named Jiang Xuehong.

The other was fairly sturdily built, with quite ordinary features and dark skin—darker, even, than Luo Mingxuan—looking every bit like a seasoned angler.

"My cousin, Lin Chongyi," Luo Mingxuan said, listlessly raising a hand to point at the dark-skinned man on the single-seat sofa nearby.

The man called Lin Chongyi, hearing this, gave Ji Qingzhou a rather rough-and-ready cupped-fist salute.

"This black monkey here tells me it was you, Mr. Ji, who transformed him into someone halfway presentable. So tell me, sir, is there any hope of transformation for me?"

As Luo Mingxuan's regular drinking companion, Lin Chongyi was evidently just as quick to familiarity, posing this tricky question to Ji Qingzhou with a broad, toothy grin the moment they met.

Ji Qingzhou leaned sideways against the armrest of the sofa, propping his chin on one hand as he studied the man's duck-tail hairstyle for a moment, and said, "Well, cut your hair shorter, that'll make you look sharper. Nothing else really needs changing."

"You're saying all I need is a shorter haircut, no change of clothes or style needed, and I'll already be at my handsomest?"

Whether or not Lin Chongyi had misunderstood him, he happily stretched out his leg and kicked his cousin, saying, "See? I told you my taste is way better than yours."

"Oh, please. What Qingzhou clearly meant was that you're a lost cause, cut your hair or not, you'll be equally ugly either way."

"Me, ugly? Your sister-in-law's told me plenty of times I'm strapping and remarkably handsome."

"Hah, sister-in-law just likes to joke around, don't you know that by now? After all these years, don't tell me you still haven't figured out what you actually look like."

"You cheeky monkey, looking to get smacked again, are you?"

In just a few exchanges, the two cousins were already off chasing each other around, tussling. Luo Mingxuan, who moments ago had been sprawled like a dead dog, too overheated to move, somehow found the energy to bolt out the door, full of life again.

Seeing this, Lin Chongyi simply shut the door and locked it, then came back into the reception room, panting from the heat, and gave Ji Qingzhou an apologetic smile. "That mischievous monkey, leave him unsupervised three days and he'll tear the roof off. Sorry you had to see that."

Ji Qingzhou, however, found himself struck by the phrase "mischievous monkey," and couldn't stop laughing for a good while.

"Brother Ji, now that you've got the large furniture settled today, I suppose you'll still need to arrange the smaller household items?"

Jiang Xuehong, having just finished a look around the kitchen, sat down on another single-seat sofa as he spoke.

"I was just about to pour everyone some water, and realized there isn't even a teapot yet. Still, these smaller things are easy enough to buy, everyday items like bowls, plates, and cups, or decorative pieces like vases and hanging paintings, a couple of trips to the department store should cover most of it."

"Brother Jiang's right. I'll head to the department store in a bit."

Ji Qingzhou agreed, then, his gaze wandering, landed on Jie Yu'an's quiet, handsome profile, and he suddenly smiled. "No need to buy a vase, though, we've already got a big one at home. Big and good-looking, too."

As he said this, he deliberately nudged the toe of Jie Yu'an's shoe with his foot. "Isn't that right?"

Jiang Xuehong, hearing this, nodded, simply assuming they already had a lovely vase at home and needn't spend extra money on one, thinking nothing further of it.

Jie Yu'an, however, caught his meaning at once, and said, in a tone neither warm nor cold, "Itching for trouble?"

"Huh? Yeah, itches every day, how do you plan to cure it?" Ji Qingzhou said this with a teasing smile at first, then suddenly let it drop.

What he'd meant to say was something like "you gonna smack me one, then?"—but once it was out, it struck him as sounding not quite right.

Jie Yu'an's expression turned faintly odd. He quietly reached over to Ji Qingzhou's hand resting on the sofa and pinched his index finger, murmuring low, "Mind yourself."

"I didn't say anything, you know. You're the one reading too much into it," Ji Qingzhou said, sitting up straight and muttering the words under his breath.

Jie Yu'an was about to say something more when Luo Mingxuan appeared out of nowhere, plopping himself down on the other end of the long sofa, wiping the sweat from his face as he said to Ji Qingzhou, "This courtyard of yours is way too bare. Shouldn't you plant some flowers and greenery, fix it up a bit?"

"How did you even get in here?" Lin Chongyi turned to look back at the door. "Didn't I lock it?"

And here he'd been keeping an eye on the reception room window the whole time, just waiting to watch his cousin beg for mercy outside it.

"Same way I got in the first time, the floor-to-ceiling window by the dining room isn't locked either, didn't you know?" Luo Mingxuan replied with a grin.

Then he turned back to Ji Qingzhou, raising an eyebrow at him. "How about I dig up a few plants from my family's garden and bring them over to plant here? Our garden's huge anyway. I could swipe a few camellias, wisteria, jasmine, peonies, they'd never even notice.

"Oh, and my father's most prized chrysanthemum too, the one called Jade Vase Spring or whatever it's named, I'll nab a couple of those for you too."

"Guard against it day and night as you might, there's no defending against a thief in the family..." his cousin lamented mournfully beside him.

"Much appreciated, but really, no need. I don't have a professional gardener here, and with this heat, moving those prized flowers from your garden over here would just be sending them to their deaths," Ji Qingzhou said, turning the offer down flatly.

Luo Mingxuan mulled it over, seemed to find the point reasonable, and gave up on the idea of playing family thief.

He asked instead, "So what are you planning to do, then? Just leave it bare like this?"

"Why are you so worried about it?" Jiang Xuehong put in leisurely. "For one, this house belongs to Brother Ji here, he's certainly got his own plans for it. For another, the owner's Yu'an, the Jie family's garden is so large, surely they've no shortage of gardeners of their own."

"But—"

Luo Mingxuan was about to say more when Jie Yu'an gave a quiet, even response.

He said, in an even tone, "As for the courtyard, I've already asked Uncle Cheng to come plan it out. He's already handling it."

This time it was Ji Qingzhou's turn to be caught off guard.

"When did you arrange that?"

The "Uncle Cheng" Jie Yu'an meant was the most senior of the gardeners employed by the Jie family.

Ji Qingzhou had actually considered asking one of the Jie family's gardeners to help plan out the courtyard for him, but figuring the man was paid to work for the Jie household, he hadn't felt right asking him to work for free on the side, and so had never brought it up.

"Back when the fans were being installed," Jie Yu'an answered.

"Why didn't you discuss it with me first?"

"And what would you have wanted, then?"

"Well... I'd have gotten around to arranging it myself, once I had time."

"By the time you had time, the weeds in the yard would be two zhang tall."

"......" Ji Qingzhou had nothing to say to that.

True enough, his own original plan had been fairly simple—just find someone in gardening to lay down a lawn, and figure out what to plant later, bit by bit.

Since he'd be renting the place for three years anyway, there was no rush.

"Fine, since Brother Yuan's already got it handled, guess I don't need to worry about it," Luo Mingxuan said, looking a little disappointed not to have gotten a hand in this particular matter.

Ji Qingzhou found the way this kid's mind worked almost childlike—perhaps in his eyes, a friend's home was as good as his own, and arranging a friend's house was the same as arranging his own, hence all the enthusiasm.

After a brief lull in conversation, Ji Qingzhou glanced around the room and changed the subject. "Everyone's probably thirsty by now, how about I go buy a watermelon? Once we've finished it off, everyone can head home."

"Good idea, I was just feeling parched!" Luo Mingxuan chimed in. "Let's go, I'll come with you to get it."

Ji Qingzhou stood up at that, but before he could take a step, his wrist was caught by Jie Yu'an.

"What is it?" he asked. Jie Yu'an said nothing in reply.

Standing nearby, Huang Youshu, watching this unfold, seemed to piece something together in a flash of understanding, and spoke up at once. "I'll go get the melon. Young Master Luo, Master Ji, you two carry on talking."

With that, he strode briskly out the door, leaving no room for anyone to object.

"Hey, A' You!" Luo Mingxuan reached out an arm, failed to stop him, and looked between Ji Qingzhou and Jie Yu'an with a bewildered expression before scratching his head and sitting back down, thoroughly confused.

Ji Qingzhou sat back down on the sofa as well, looking at Jie Yu'an, who had by now released his wrist, and asked with a slight frown, "Jie Yuan, are you—"

"Hm?" Jie Yu'an turned his head, adopting an expression of attentive listening. "What is it?"

Ji Qingzhou wanted very much to ask whether he had a bit of a possessive streak, unwilling to be left out even when it was just friends hanging around together...

But on second thought, it occurred to him that Jie Yu'an might simply have felt there was no need for so many people to go buy a single watermelon, and that sending Huang Youshu alone would do just fine.

Given the man's preference for keeping things simple and efficient, that explanation did seem the more likely one.

He pursed his lips, looked away, and said, "Nothing. Just thought you looked nice."

"Oh," Jie Yu'an replied in a low voice, sounding not entirely pleased either.

.

Once the large furniture had all been arranged, Ji Qingzhou began making trips to the shops whenever he had spare time, picking up daily necessities, small decorative pieces, and potted plants to fill out the empty studio.

Over the following days, as the small household items in the Western-style house were gradually filled in, and the custom-ordered cutting table, ironing table, mannequins, curtains, and so on arrived and were installed one by one, Ji Qingzhou slowly shifted his gown-making work from the little sewing room at the Jie residence over to the new studio.

That evening, having finished the piping on Shen Nanqi's indigo-blue qipao, Ji Qingzhou set the garment aside, stood up, rolled his shoulders, and took a look around his new workroom.

Barring anything unexpected, this would be his home base for the next three years.

The large room on the southwest side of the house was fully steeped in the slanting light of the setting sun. With the lamps unlit, the white walls were nonetheless washed in a rich, golden glow.

Before the arched lattice windows on the south side, cream-colored lace curtains hung lightly. Two mannequins stood side by side in front of the window, one of them draped in a half-finished grey evening gown, its as-yet-undyed petal-shaped fabric pieces pinned in place, cascading down onto the floor.

For these female mannequins, he'd ordered five sizes all at once this time, still from that bamboo-and-rattan furnishings shop called "Zhengxingmei," still at three yuan apiece—so far, only two had been delivered.

Beyond that, he'd also ordered a few display forms, made to the same measurements as the mannequins but without the cotton-wadding and burlap wrapping, since all that was needed was for them to look presentable and hold the shape of a garment, so they came at a relatively lower price.

In front of the two long windows on the west side stood a broad, plain ironing table. When it had first arrived, it was just a long bare table; Ji Qingzhou had laid a thin cotton quilt over it, then wrapped it in a sturdy plain-weave cotton cloth, binding the edges securely all around—and with that, the ironing table looked quite presentable.

A large stretch of space had been left open in the north part of the room, meant for the cutting table, which wasn't finished yet.

Both of these long tables had been custom-ordered from the same carpentry shop; since he'd quoted a relatively modest budget, the wood they'd used was only middling in quality, and the workmanship was passable at best.

Still, for the surfaces of a working studio, there was no need for anything especially fine or elegant—smooth, sturdy, stable, and durable was more than enough.

Once the ironing table arrived, Ji Qingzhou had gone to the department store and spent sixteen yuan on an electric iron.

That was the single most expensive item he'd purchased in the whole course of this renovation.

Apart from all this, the only remaining furniture in the room was the dark brown seven-drawer cabinet standing against the wall on the east side.

Since he hadn't fully moved in yet, there wasn't much else around at present, and at a glance, the space looked clean and orderly.

Though Ji Qingzhou suspected that in another couple of months, this room would end up quite a mess—the kind where you couldn't even find a clear spot to stand if it went two days unswept.

Come to think of it, he'd probably need to hire a cleaning lady by then too.

Ji Qingzhou turned this over in his mind, then did a quick tally of his savings.

All told, furnishing the place had cost him roughly forty-five silver dollars.

Since the large furniture, curtains, appliances, and the like hadn't cost him anything, fifty yuan had been the studio decoration budget he'd set for himself from the start, and in the end he'd kept comfortably within it, without needing to dip into the shop's business income.

After looking the room over once more, Ji Qingzhou picked up the teacup on the cabinet, opened the lid, and took a sip of the cooled tea, then wandered unhurriedly over to the window with the cup in hand, gazing out into the distance.

The house stood on relatively high ground, and through the branches and leaves of the roadside trees, he could easily make out the traffic and pedestrians moving along the broad street below.

As for the courtyard downstairs, it had by now been thoroughly transformed, filled for the most part with green.

Uncle Cheng now came by every morning with his apprentice, planting the little courtyard, per his employer's instructions, with hardy, easy-to-grow flowers and greenery.

By his estimate, another three to five days of work would see the little garden finished.

So, when should the shop officially open, then?

Ji Qingzhou mentally reviewed his recent work schedule, and finally settled on July sixteenth as the date.

The day before that was his manuscript deadline—whichever way things went with Mr. Ramos's order, once he'd gotten through this rather nerve-wracking stretch of work, he'd at least be able to relax and rest for a day or two.

.

Amid the whirl of busy days, Jie Yu'an began the third stage of his acupuncture treatment.

Morning sunlight filled the small reception room; the electric fan atop the cabinet whirred steadily, stirring the sheer curtains before the floor-length windows into a gentle sway, the whole room steeped in the bright, languid light of summer.

Jie Yu'an sat, as always, in the black leather armchair, head tilted back, eyes closed, resting quietly against the chair.

Ji Qingzhou sat beside him, gazing at his face without any particular purpose, simply lost in thought.

As he looked, his eyes suddenly lit up.

Though Jie Yu'an had inherited his mother's cool, fair complexion, and rarely spent time in the sun, the black cloth wrapped daily over his eyes had nonetheless left a faint pale line where the fabric sat.

Fortunately, the difference in tone was slight, hardly noticeable unless one looked closely.

Having spotted this, Ji Qingzhou couldn't help the corner of his mouth twitching upward; had the old madam not been sitting right there on the nearby sofa, he likely would have laughed out loud.

Before beginning the third round of treatment, Dr. Zhang first took Jie Yu'an's pulse, then reached over to gently part his eyelids and examine them, asking in an even tone, "How have things been lately, any sense of light at all, even something murky?"

Jie Yu'an answered in a calm, low voice, "Nothing but pitch black."

"Mm, that's to be expected in the course of treatment. Young Master, you mustn't let it weigh on you too heavily, try to stay calm and even-tempered about it, that's more beneficial for recovery." Dr. Zhang offered a few words of comfort, then began inserting the needles.

The weather was already stifling, and with the treatment underway, it wasn't wise to aim the fan directly at him, so Ji Qingzhou, holding Jie Yu'an's left hand, could feel his palm damp with sweat throughout, sweat already soaking the roots of his hair at the forehead.

The old madam, unable to bear watching her grandson endure this, stayed in the room for a while before retreating to her own quarters.

Ji Qingzhou dabbed at Jie Yu'an's sweat now and then with a handkerchief; not quite daring to look at the needles themselves, he let his gaze settle instead on Jie Yu'an's broad, long-fingered hand.

Perhaps from the heat, combined with his fair skin, after just a couple of light dabs with the handkerchief-wrapped hand, a faint flush rose at his knuckles and nail beds.

Generally speaking, people whose joints flushed easily like this tended to flush in certain other places just as easily too...

The thought surfaced in his mind unbidden.

Just as it began to wander further, his peripheral vision caught a bead of sweat sliding down to Jie Yu'an's chin, and he immediately shut his eyes hard for a moment to clear his head.

He wiped away the drop of sweat with the handkerchief, all the while silently shaking his head in self-reproach.

What kind of moment was this, to be thinking such improper thoughts.

Jie Yu'an might be good-looking, but his temperament was cold and difficult—clearly not the ideal partner Ji Qingzhou had in mind, so there was no point entertaining such notions!

Ji Qingzhou gave his head a shake, one hand still holding the motionless palm, the other propping up his chin, and turned his gaze to the clock ahead, letting his mind drift to matters of work instead.

The mid-month manuscript deadline was fast approaching. Only one menswear illustration remained to complete the newspaper's set, and he already had an idea in mind for it.

As for the film costume sketch, one still remained unfinished. He'd decided early on to design a banquet gown for the scene where Xiudie disguises herself as Miss Li, but so far he hadn't settled on anything.

What sort of gown should it be, then?

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