Chapter 77 Second Issue

Chapter 77: The Second Issue of the Pictorial

"You really can’t trust a word these newspaper reporters say."

At the Sunday breakfast table, though there was no work to attend to, Shen Nanqi was already seated early by the dining table, shaking her head as she held a copy of *Shen Bao*:

"They promised not to run it, but there it is."

"Run what?" Ji Qingzhou used serving chopsticks to pick up a steamed soup dumpling, dipped it lightly in vinegar, and placed it on Jie Yuan's spoon.

Ji Qingzhou watched him eat the dumpling without burning himself before shifting his gaze to Shen Nanqi and asking.

"It’s from last week—the Empress Hotel’s opening ceremony. It had already been advertised in the papers before, and now it's in the papers again. Mr. Cheng must’ve shelled out a lot for this."

As she spoke, Shen Nanqi folded the newspaper and handed it to him.

Ji Qingzhou took the paper and immediately spotted the photo in the center of the page. He recognized three women from their outfits.

Among them, Chen Yanzhu and Pan Yuling faced the camera directly, while Shen Nanqi and another unfamiliar woman stood side by side in profile.

The photo’s background was a little blurry, but the bright lighting clearly showcased the grandeur of that evening's event through the attendees' attire.

To Ji Qingzhou’s surprise, the photo was clearer than he’d expected—enough to roughly make out people's clothing and facial features.

Of course, it might also be because his expectations for the clarity of photos from this era had been too low to begin with.

"Not a bad shot, actually. Ms. Shen, you're the most beautiful one in it," Ji Qingzhou first offered a compliment before pondering further:

"If the paper ran this against your wishes, you could sue, couldn’t you?

"Though it might not qualify as a portrait rights violation. The photo seems to capture you all in conversation, so it might just be considered a candid shot in a public setting."

Upon hearing this, Shen Nanqi took the newspaper back and studied the photo again, musing, "You’re right. At the time, the reporter told us to just keep chatting naturally. Now that you say it, he played us. I should’ve worn a hat like Yuling—only showing half my face, so even people who know me wouldn’t recognize me."

"True enough," Ji Qingzhou said. Seeing that she was merely venting and didn’t seem genuinely upset, he didn’t press the topic further.

He finished his milk, wiped his mouth, and got up to leave for work.

Just then, Shen Nanqi glanced at the two of them and suddenly suggested, "Once Yuan Yuan’s eyes heal, we should take a family photo. It’s been ages since we took one together. We could hire a photographer or even buy a camera ourselves. What do you think?"

Ji Qingzhou hesitated slightly, thinking that by the time Jie Yuan’s eyes healed, he might no longer be around. Instead of answering, he nudged the person beside him and said, "He’s asking *you*."

"Sure," Jie Yuan said instantly.

Then, he tilted his head toward Ji Qingzhou. "You’re not joining?"

"Yeah, if you want me there, I’ll come," Ji Qingzhou grinned openly.

Shen Nanqi caught the implication in his words and pressed her lips together before saying, "You’ve lived here this long and still keep your distance. Maybe I ought to just claim you as my nephew."

"No complaints here—if Yuanbao’s willing to call me ‘cuz,’” Ji Qingzhou joked, turning to look at Jie Yuan.

"Keep dreaming," Jie Yuan muttered, sounding annoyed.

He’d stopped wearing the blindfold at home, just keeping his eyes shut. As a result, his emotions were all the more visible on his face.

"Oho, someone’s not thrilled," Ji Qingzhou teased, shrugging at Shen Nanqi.

Then, he stood up and waved. "Time for work. See you at dinner!"

Shen Nanqi nodded. After Ji Qingzhou left the dining room, she picked up her chopsticks and added some side dishes to Jie Yuan's porridge, asking:

"What’s got you upset again? I thought you two got along well, and I happen to like Qingzhou quite a bit, so I suggested calling him my nephew. You seem so reluctant—is something bothering you?"

Jie Yuan remained silent for a moment before replying, "Calling him a cousin—that’s not right."

"It’s just a title, not like we’re dividing family assets. What’s inappropriate about it? You’re really..."

Shen Nanqi shook her head, picked up the newspaper, leaned back in her chair, and continued reading without another word.

·

By mid-August, autumn had arrived, but the lingering summer heat remained oppressive.

Shielding himself from the blistering morning sun, Ji Qingzhou arrived at the workshop. As he stepped into the foyer, a cool draft flowing between the east and west rooms brushed against his face, slightly easing the searing heat sticking to his skin.

Hu Minfu had already finished his morning cleaning and was now sitting on a chair in the foyer, catching the breeze.

Ji Qingzhou greeted him upon entering before heading straight upstairs to the second floor.

It was just past nine, but the entire workshop staff was already there.

Through the slightly ajar door, the sounds from the workroom drifted out—the hum of sewing machines and lively banter among the women.

"My husband is so dull. He’s polite to everyone else but gives me nothing but sour looks. Nothing pleases him, and I have to put up with his bad temper every day at home."

"If he’s that difficult, just ignore him."

"That’s why I took this job—leaving early and coming back late. Now that I tune him out when he sulks, he’s actually become more agreeable."

"Second Sister Feng must not have such troubles, being a mother and all."

"Motherhood changes nothing—still a headache."

"Sister Yuer, you’d better choose carefully when looking for a husband. The kind who acts polite to everyone is the hardest to get close to. The strong, silent types are the ones who truly know how to care for people."

"I’m sixteen already."

"You’re sixteen already. In my time, girls were married by that age..."

Ji Qingzhou pushed open the workroom door, and the chatter abruptly stopped, replaced by a chorus of greetings.

"Good morning, Mr. Ji."

"Morning. Everyone’s bright-eyed this morning." Ji Qingzhou closed the door behind him and scanned the room. The girls, who had been laughing and chatting moments ago, now turned pink and looked down, focusing intently on their work.

The southern windows were tightly curtained against the harsh sunlight, yet sunlight streaming through the beige gauze still brightened the room.

By the windows, two new sewing machines stood alongside their predecessors. Song Yuer and a girl with a long braid sat there, working swiftly.

Near the cutting table, Feng Minjun was showing a new hire about ten years her junior, carefully stitching a dark green jacket with needle and thread.

The help-wanted ad had been posted for a week, and a few candidates had stopped by over the past few days. After interviewing them, Ji Qingzhou hired two—both experienced in garment work.

One was Yu Xiaomei, only nineteen but already a pro with five years of experience in a mechanized garment factory. She was handy with an electric iron, proficient in pressing, and excelled at sewing.

The other was Tian Ajuan, around twenty-four. Though she had never worked a sewing machine, her nimble fingers for hand-stitching were excellent, and she was skilled in embroidery, having previously worked for an embroidery workshop. Impressed by her craftsmanship, Ji Qingzhou hired her.

Both were paid fifteen yuan a month—good pay for women in the trade back then.

If the studio can expand in the future, Ji Qingzhou will definitely raise salaries as needed.

As for experienced tailors, two candidates have come for interviews recently. After assessing their skills, Ji Qingzhou found them just average and decided not to hire them.

Anyway, the production of movie costumes must wait until he finishes the designs and gets approval and pricing from the film studio before work can begin. Given the current workload, the existing staff can manage just fine, so there’s no urgent need to hire a tailor right away.

With the recent completion of Miss Fang’s custom order, Tang Suda's dark green pantsuit has now been scheduled.

As usual, Ji Qingzhou used muslin for draping and pattern-making. Once the sample and production process were finalized, Feng Minjun took charge of cutting and sewing.

Since the fabric for this suit is either pure silk or thick woolen material, it requires more hand-sewing. Thus, the newly hired employee, Tian Ajuan, is now primarily assisting Feng Minjun with this suit set.

Meanwhile, Song Yuer has been working on a qipao order from the old shop these past few days.

The gray summer fabric is inexpensive, and the design is relatively simple. After Ji Qingzhou and Song Yuer finalized the pattern, he entrusted the production of this qipao to her.

As for Yu Xiaomei, she helps out on both sides—stepping in when Feng Minjun needs the sewing machine or taking over ironing when Song Yuer is too busy. Everyone's kept busy.

It must be said that with the new hires, Ji Qingzhou feels a lot less stressed. Now, his daily work mainly involves assigning tasks to his employees.

Essentially, he only needs to spend an hour or two in the workshop each morning before heading to his study in the afternoon to focus on sketching designs.

Previously, most of his day was taken up by making clothes, but now he can gradually shift his focus back to design.

That said, he had other matters scheduled for this morning. After briefly checking the progress on both sides of the workshop and offering some guidance, he headed to the study in the northeast corner.

After tidying up the messy pile of sketches on his desk, Ji Qingzhou retrieved the one intended for the newspaper, placed it in a document folder, and got ready to head over to the *Shanghai Daily* office to submit his fashion sketches. He also planned to stop by the *Min Daily* office to pay the sewing machine rental fee.

Though he no longer needed the sewing machine from the old shop, Zhu Renqing was still managing the store and occasionally handling small orders.

However, the kid wasn't much good with a needle, so he relied on the sewing machine for garment repairs. Thus, the rental fee still had to be paid.

Anyway, it wasn’t expensive—just three yuan a month.

·

Perhaps due to the scorching sun, Wangping Street seemed pretty quiet today.

Compared to the vendors’ hawking along the roadside, the monotonous chirping of autumn cicadas was much louder.

After getting off the tram at the street corner, Ji Qingzhou first went to the *Min Daily* office and paid up four months of sewing machine rent in one go.

This would be the last payment, as the shop’s lease would also expire in four months.

He had already decided not to renew the lease for the small shop once it expired. Instead, when he had sufficient staff and funds, he planned to open a fashion house—offering design services, custom work, and high-end ready-to-wear—in a better location, perhaps along Jing’an Temple Road or Nanjing Road.

However, producing high-end ready-to-wear would inevitably take serious money.

Unless he hit the jackpot, the startup capital would have to be accumulated slowly.

After leaving the *Min Daily* office, Ji Qingzhou walked along the narrow street to the three-story Western building of the *Shanghai Daily*. Noticing the voting box for the beauty contest still standing at the entrance, he couldn’t help but wonder—how long had it been? Was this pageant still ongoing?

But upon closer calculation, only two and a half months had passed since the pageant began. It was just that his days were so packed that it felt like half a year had gone by.

Pushing open the glass door on the first floor, Ji Qingzhou leaned in and asked the old clerk busy going through mail inside, "Is anyone upstairs?"

The clerk had seen him a few times before and recognized him. In a gentle tone, he replied, "Mr. Qiu hasn’t arrived yet, and Mr. Yuan is probably still asleep. If you’re here to submit a draft, you can leave it with me. If you'd rather, you could also see Mr. Song next door at the Yu'er Photo Studio."

"Alright, I've got something to discuss with Song Youling too," he said, giving a smile and a nod.

With that, he shut the glass door and headed next door.

The photo studio adjacent to the Shanghai Daily building was a two-story structure. Inside, a waist-high counter greeted visitors.

At the moment, the shop owner sat relaxed in a chair behind the counter, wearing a shirt with an open collar, legs crossed, flipping idly through a magazine.

Hearing the door open, Song Youling lazily lifted his eyelids, about to say "Welcome" or some such greeting, but upon recognizing the familiar face, he immediately straightened up.

He snapped the magazine shut with a grin and said, "Well, look who it is—what a rare guest! Brother Ji, what brings you by today? Oh, right, it’s the fifteenth—you’re here to submit your draft, aren’t you?"

"What else would I be here for?" Ji Qingzhou sighed in response, pulling the folder containing his illustrations from his crossbody bag and placing it on the counter.

While Song Youling reviewed the draft, Ji Qingzhou picked up the Modern Fashion magazine he had been flipping through earlier, leaning on the counter, skimming through it. "Is this the newly released second issue?" he asked.

"Yep, haven’t you seen it yet?"

"Meant to, but never got around to it."

According to the previously signed contract, the second issue was supposed to feature mostly Liu’s work. However, the cover was split in two—featuring both a painting of a beauty in a white Western-style dress and an additional draft Ji Qingzhou had submitted earlier.

The two clashing styles side by side looked jaring at first, but perhaps due to clever layout—a diagonal split between them gave it an edgy, almost comic-book vibe—that made it visually acceptable.

Flipping through the pages, the first four illustrations were Liu’s, while the latter four were Ji Qingzhou’s later fashion sketches.

Frowning at the layout, Ji Qingzhou asked, "Four fewer illustrations were published—nah, he got his money—isn’t the artist upset?"

"Nah, he got his money. Xin Geer was worried he might feel slighted and even went to talk to him personally. Turns out, Mr. Liu actually was all for it.

"After seeing your work in the first issue, he felt his own illustrations didn’t quite live up to the word ‘modern’ and had little to do with ‘fashion.’ He was sweating it for over a week, fearing the second issue wouldn’t sell and that subscribers expecting his work would criticize him harshly..."

Song Youling clicked his tongue. "Anyway, don’t worry about it. He actually wants to thank you for saving him from embarrassment."

"I see..." Ji Qingzhou roughly understood the illustrator’s mindset and then asked, "So how’s the second issue selling?"

"No results yet, but based on our experience, it’ll outsell the first issue’s launch numbers."

As he spoke, Song Youling tidied the eight illustrations into a stack and returned them to the folder. "Xin Geer even discussed with us that if this issue sells well, the next four could follow the same layout. And if each issue consistently sells over ten thousand copies, once Mr. Liu’s three-month contract ends, we’ll exclusively use your illustrations from then on."

"No way I could keep that pace. Eight illustrations a month is already my limit," Ji Qingzhou replied with a helpless smile.

Initially, he had hoped to earn some extra income through the pictorial while promoting himself. But now, with more work piling up, he was swamped as it was.

"Later on, you should continue collaborating with Mr. Liu or other illustrators—or even put out an open call for artists," he suggested.

"I figured as much. Doubt you’ll have the time."

At this point, Song Youling suddenly narrowed his eyes and spoke earnestly, "Yu’er told me your shop might look quiet, but she’s pulling nonstop shifts. She’s loving every minute of it though."

"So now, as her brother, are you here to demand justice for her?"

Song Youling quickly waved his hands, shaking his head with a chuckle. "She’d chew me out after."

Ji Qingzhou couldn’t help but laugh before remembering his main purpose. "By the way, I’d like to place an ad in the pictorial. Just tacking my studio’s info under my name would do. Would that work? And if so, how much would the ad fee be?"

"I can’t decide on printing matters myself. I’ll mention it to Xin Geer and have him discuss it with you."

Song Youling replied seriously, "But ads like that usually aren’t too expensive—figure thirty, forty bucks an issue."

"That’s it from me. Just mail the payment to Xie Mansion once it’s ready."

"Alright," Song Youling responded promptly. Seeing Ji Qingzhou about to leave, he suddenly stood up and said, "Now that you're here, how about taking a photo? There's no one around now, so I’ll snap one for free—just let me keep the negative."

"What do you need the negative for?" Ji Qingzhou asked skeptically.

"Oh, nothing special—just collecting," Song Youling replied with an easy smile. "I enjoy collecting photos of handsome men, beautiful women, and famous figures. I don’t exhibit or advertise them—I just like looking at them myself. I even have a special storage box for them. Would you like to see?"

"No, that won’t be necessary. Not my thing," Ji Qingzhou initially intended to refuse outright, but then it occurred to him that since arriving in the Republic of China, he hadn’t yet experienced the photography techniques of this era. The thought piqued his curiosity.

After all, taking a photo wouldn’t take much time, and it was free. Seeing Song Youling so enthusiastic, he thought it over and agreed.

"Fine, I’ll take one then."