Old Dreams of the Bund's Golden Mile

Pei Ningxue led Chen Zhi into a side alley off Changle Road.

The alley was even narrower than the one where they had pan-fried buns that morning. On both sides were mottled Shikumen walls. Overhead, the French plane trees sliced the sunlight into fragmented pieces that fell onto the bluestone slabs beneath their feet.

After walking for about five or six minutes, Pei Ningxue stopped in front of a three-story old Western-style house.

The door was made of dark brown old wood, and the brass door knocker was covered in a layer of green patina. Beside the door hung a palm-sized brass plaque that simply read, Shen's.

Chen Zhi glanced at the house. Large patches of the roughcast cement on the outer wall had peeled off, revealing the red bricks underneath. However, the curves of the window frames and the cast-iron railings on the second-floor terrace still retained the grandeur of the concession era from the last century.

What is this place?

Pei Ningxue pushed the door open, looked back, and crooked a finger at him.

Come in and you'll know.

Inside, it was a whole different world.

The first-floor living room had been converted into a tailor shop, an old-school handmade custom workshop.

A whole row of mahogany clothes racks stood against the wall, hanging with various fabric samples. In the corner stood three mannequins wearing semi-finished garments, and scattered scraps of cloth lay on the floor.

There was a faint scent of agarwood in the air.

A white-haired old lady walked out from the back room, wearing reading glasses with a soft measuring tape draped around her neck.

Miss Pei, you're here.

The old lady's Shanghainese carried a leisurely cadence. Seeing Chen Zhi, she looked him up and down and smiled.

Is this the gentleman you mentioned on the phone?

Yes, Granny Shen. Pei Ningxue took off her baseball cap and smoothed her hair. Are the clothes ready?

Ready, ready. I just finished the last stitch yesterday. Go in and try it on. Granny Shen lifted her chin toward the inner room.

Pei Ningxue shoved the canvas bag in her hand into Chen Zhi's arms.

Wait outside. Don't come in.

Before Chen Zhi could ask anything, Pei Ningxue had already followed Granny Shen into the back room, and the wooden sliding door slid shut from the inside.

He stood there and looked around.

There was a rattan chair in the corner, and a pot of cold Longjing tea and an enamel cup sat on a small table next to it. Chen Zhi walked over, sat down, and casually flipped through a yellowed booklet on the table.

The booklet contained many old photographs, black and white and faded. There were women in qipaos standing by the railings of the Bund, and men in Mao suits leaning against vintage cars.

On the back of the photos were words written in fountain pen: Shen Family Tailors, founded in 1937.

Chen Zhi put the booklet down and checked his phone again. Lin Wanwan hadn't replied to his message, and neither had Li Zhiyi.

He pondered his wording and was just about to type when the sliding door to the back room rattled.

Granny Shen came out first, held onto the doorframe, and waved at Chen Zhi.

Young man, take a look.

Chen Zhi looked up.

Pei Ningxue walked out from behind the door.

Chen Zhi's typing fingers paused.

She had changed into a moon-white qipao.

It featured a mandarin collar with a low diagonal placket fastened by three pearl frog closures. The dress fit her perfectly, the fabric carrying a subtle sheen that seemed to flow slightly with her movements. The waist was cinched just right, falling into a skirt that went past her knees, with a modest slit on the side.

A white magnolia was embroidered from the collar down to the chest. The stitches were so fine that the threads were nearly invisible, giving the petals' texture a faint embossed feel on the fabric.

Pei Ningxue's hair had been restyled by Granny Shen into a low bun, secured with a simple silver hairpin, exposing her entire slender neck and delicate collarbone.

She stood there as the light of the old house streamed in from the window behind her, making her whole person seem to glow.

The phone in Chen Zhi's hand almost fell to the floor.

Pei Ningxue tilted her head slightly.

How does it look?

Chen Zhi shoved his phone back into his pocket and stood up.

When did you order this?

Last week. Pei Ningxue looked down and smoothed the hem of the qipao. I called Granny Shen to make it to my measurements. She just finished the last stitch yesterday.

Granny Shen beamed from ear to ear beside them.

I've been making qipaos for over fifty years, and this figure is absolutely top-notch. The fabric drapes over it without a single wrinkle.

Chen Zhi stared at Pei Ningxue for several seconds.

Pei Ningxue felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and subconsciously raised her hand to touch her earlobe.

Does it look good?

It looks good.

Just a few crisp and clear words, without any superfluous embellishment.

Pei Ningxue's ears turned red.

Granny Shen coughed twice beside them.

Young man, you brought your clothes too, right? Go next door and change into them, and I'll help you adjust them.

Pei Ningxue pulled out a suit bag.

Chen Zhi took it and went to the empty room next door to change.

The custom-made suit they bought at Plaza 66 yesterday was exceptionally well-tailored.

When he came out after changing, Granny Shen stepped forward, measured his shoulders with the soft tape, and tugged at the hem and cuffs.

The fabric is nice, and the tailoring is good too, but the tie is too stiff. Young people don't need to tie it so tightly.

Granny Shen helped him loosen his tie knot and refolded his pocket square.

Alright, go take a look in the mirror.

An old-fashioned full-length mirror stood in the corner, the wood on its frame cracked.

Chen Zhi walked over, and the person reflected in the mirror surprised even himself.

Over 1.8 meters tall, his shoulder line was perfectly broadened by the suit, the waist was cleanly tailored, and the trouser creases were straight.

Pei Ningxue stood next to him.

The two people in the mirror.

One wore a moon-white Su embroidery qipao with a low bun, exuding an indescribable charm amidst a cool elegance.

The other wore a dark gray custom suit, broad-shouldered and long-legged, covered from head to toe in sharp, chiseled lines.

Granny Shen leaned against the doorframe, pushed up her reading glasses, and softly sighed.

So alike, so alike. Just exactly like the customers from when I was making clothes in my youth.

Pei Ningxue's lips curled up slightly. She turned around and grabbed Chen Zhi's hand.

Let's go.

Where to?

Wukang Road. It's two streets away from here.

The two left Shen's and walked west along Changle Road.

As soon as they turned onto Wukang Road, heads turned instantly to look at them.

Wukang Road was inherently a popular internet-famous spot in Shanghai, lined with plane trees and old Western-style houses. Most of the pedestrians were tourists in casual wear taking photos with their phones.

When these two stood on the street, the entire vibe completely changed.

One in a qipao, one in a suit, walking down the street scattered with fallen plane tree leaves, against a backdrop of cast-iron balconies and ivy on old houses.

Passersby frequently turned their heads.

Some took out their phones to secretly snap pictures.

A young photographer carrying a camera ran straight over and asked if he could take a set of street photos of them.

Pei Ningxue politely shook her head.

After walking less than a hundred meters, a man wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket, clutching a stack of business cards, jogged over from a white nanny van parked by the road.

Beauty! Beauty, please wait!

Chen Zhi slowed his pace.

The man rushed in front of Pei Ningxue, handing over a business card while rapidly firing off his pitch.

I'm Brother Wang, a contracted talent scout for Star Media. Everyone in the industry knows me. Beauty, with your conditions, it'd be a real pity not to be a model. How tall are you? 170? Your face shape is incredible, your bone structure is top-tier, you're a natural for the camera...

She doesn't need to.

Chen Zhi's voice came from the side.

The talent scout turned to look at him.

In the talent scout's eyes, this young man in a suit, handsome as he was, was just an ordinary college kid shopping with his girlfriend. He didn't seem worth paying attention to.

"Don't be so hasty, handsome, I just want to have a quick word with your girlfriend—"

Chen Zhi took a step forward.

The scout's words caught in his throat.

He couldn't quite describe the feeling. The young man before him was just standing there, not making a move, but the aura radiating from him was completely different from any ordinary person he had ever dealt with.

Then he took a closer look at the suit.

Having mingled in the Shanghai entertainment circle for so many years, the scout knew good stuff when he saw it. The texture of the fabric, the tailoring of the shoulder line, the craftsmanship of the hidden buttons on the cuffs—this suit cost at least a hundred thousand yuan, easy.

The scout's hand retracted.

He silently slipped his business card back into his pocket.

"Um... sorry to bother you. My apologies."

He let out a dry laugh, took two steps back, and turned to scurry back to his luxury van.

Chen Zhi withdrew his gaze, naturally placed his hand on Pei Ningxue's waist, and led her forward.

Pei Ningxue tilted her head and glanced at him.

"Was that really necessary? He was just handing out a business card."

"No, I just didn't want anyone blocking your way."

Pei Ningxue hummed softly, saying nothing more, but leaned her body a little closer to Chen Zhi.

At the end of Wukang Road, around the corner, stood a three-story historic villa turned coffee shop.

The storefront was modest, with a small terrace on the second floor covered in ivy. A small blackboard stood by the door, bearing chalk words: Today's Special: Osmanthus Latte.

Pei Ningxue pulled Chen Zhi up to the second floor.

There were only two tables on the terrace, and the one by the railing happened to be empty.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the sycamore leaves, shattering into a floor of golden dapples.

A vintage vinyl record player stood in the corner, playing a lazy jazz tune.

Pei Ningxue sat down in a chair, resting her chin on her hands, and stared blankly at the old villa across the street for a while.

Chen Zhi ordered two osmanthus lattes. By the time they were brought over, Pei Ningxue had already moved her chair next to his, leaning her shoulder against his and resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"Sleepy?"

"No." Pei Ningxue kept her eyes closed. "I just want to lean on you for a bit."

The jazz tune on the record player changed to another, the rhythm even slower.

Steam curled up gracefully from the coffee cups.

Neither of them spoke; they just sat there leaning against each other.

After a while, when Chen Zhi looked down to pick up his coffee cup, he caught sight of Pei Ningxue's collar from the corner of his eye.

Of the three pearl frog clasps on the mandarin collar of her cheongsam, the top one was crooked.

The knotted loop wasn't fully fastened; it hung halfway, ready to come undone at any moment.

"The button on your collar is loose."

Pei Ningxue raised her hand to feel for it but missed.

"Which one?"

"The top one. Don't move."

Chen Zhi turned sideways, raising his right hand, and pinched the loop of the pearl frog clasp with his index finger and thumb.

The structure of the clasp was intricate, a silk cord wound several times. Fastening it back into the corresponding loop required a bit of patience.

His fingers fiddled with it a couple of times but failed to fasten it.

He pulled it a bit tighter and tried again.

His fingertips brushed against Pei Ningxue's skin.

Right above her collarbone, on the side of her neck—a small, soft patch of skin.

Pei Ningxue's breath hitched.

Chen Zhi's movements also paused for a second.

They were too close. He was looking down, and Pei Ningxue had her face tilted up; their noses were only a couple of inches apart.

He could feel her breath against his chin—warm and carrying the sweet scent of the osmanthus latte.

Pei Ningxue didn't pull away.

She just kept her head tilted back, watching Chen Zhi's profile as he focused on the button.

Chen Zhi's fingers finally slipped the knot back through the loop, and the clasp was securely fastened.

But he didn't pull his hand back immediately.

His fingertips lingered on the pearl button, feeling her body heat radiating through the silk.

They held each other's gaze for about three seconds.

Pei Ningxue's eyelashes fluttered.

Chen Zhi withdrew his hand.

He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip.

"It's fastened."

Pei Ningxue lowered her head, quickly pressing the back of her hand against her warm cheek.

"...Mm."

The terrace fell quiet once again.

The record player kept spinning, the jazz music flowing lazily.

The shadows of the sycamore leaves danced back and forth across Pei Ningxue's cheongsam.

The sun sank little by little toward the west.

The sky shifted from a golden orange to a rosy pink, and then from pink to a deep blue.

The streetlights on Wukang Road flickered on. Warm yellow light spilled from the vintage lampshades, bathing the entire street in an amber glow.

Pei Ningxue sat up straight, looking at the street as the evening lights began to shine.

Chen Zhi covered Pei Ningxue's hand, which was resting on the railing, with his own.

"Let's go."

"Where to?"

Chen Zhi looked into her eyes, his tone earnest. "Tonight's Shanghai still has one last gift for us."