Chapter Fifty-One: An Antiquated Style

“This silk is fine, but the cut of these garments feels a bit outdated,” Zhi Lan spoke slowly.

She was well aware of what mattered most, and she knew what to say on certain occasions. “Is there not one piece that catches your eye?” Han Qing asked, somewhat surprised.

“There’s only this plain white one, and perhaps its charm, but the rest are truly lackluster.”

“Brother Han, where did you find these ugly clothes? Not a single one suits the ladies,” Young Master Zhu teased.

Who could have guessed that their confidence would falter after hearing these words?

“All the ready-made clothing in North County City is limited to these few patterns,” Han Qing explained, unable to shoulder the blame alone.

Zhi Lan offered a gentle explanation. Many of the dresses worn by the ladies at Drunken Flower Pavilion are self-designed, different in both style and embellishment.

“If you need such talent, I may have someone for you,” Zhi Lan said, aware of the recent rumors about their collaboration with Zhao’s Cloth House and quite willing to help.

“Has this person designed suitable garments?” Han Qing inquired.

“Yes. Half the sisters here wear clothes designed by him. He’s eccentric, though; after many requests, he only made two or three pieces for us,” she replied.

Han Qing nodded. He needed to meet this person—someone skilled in tailoring and aesthetics. If he could connect this talent to the clothing shop, they would achieve far more with less effort.

But relying on a handful of garments to build a reputation would take too long. He hadn’t come to the pavilion just for a few dresses.

“Are you free at the end of this month?” Han Qing suddenly asked.

She paused, taken aback. “We are open at all times; there’s no issue of availability.”

“At the end of this month, I plan to hold a garment exhibition here. Your ladies are of the finest beauty; all they need do is display the styles and shapes of the clothing.”

This suggestion left the two present bewildered. After all, this was a flower pavilion, not a clothing shop. How could they host an exhibition?

“The key is to surprise. There’s no need for excessive trouble elsewhere,” Han Qing said meaningfully.

The pavilion could attract clients—not only men. “Have you not considered that this place is more than the industry you see?” His words made her feel she was on the verge of understanding.

If their garments spread from here, they wouldn’t need to use unsavory terms to describe them. Instead, they could launch a new trend.

“I need to discuss this with the sisters. There’s still some time, isn’t there?” Zhi Lan didn’t agree in haste, wary of the implications.

Han Qing was used to such doubts; his sudden idea might cause skepticism. “I must say, this is a clever plan!” Young Master Zhu said, holding his paper fan and looking at Han Qing with satisfaction.

This man always brought them surprises.

“Number three, West Alley, is where the tailor lives,” she said, and with useful information, Han Qing left without further disturbance.

He went to visit the tailor. The man’s expression was calm, betraying no desire for anything, which made matters difficult.

“Forgive me, I’ve heard of your talent in garment design. Would you be willing to work at Zhao’s Clothing Shop?” Han Qing asked directly.

The man sized him up but did not refuse. Instead, he sipped his tea slowly. “Your reason?”

“Your talent will not go unnoticed. Is your pride and ability meant for only a select few?” Han Qing asked.

This was indeed the tailor’s regret. He had worked at other cloth houses but always had to compromise with the owners, leaving no room for his creativity. So he designed a few pieces for himself, rather than selling them.

But today, Han Qing’s words were filled with admiration, and it unsettled him.

“Master Lü, if you have any questions, please ask.”

“Can I design Zhao’s ready-made garments according to my own ideas?” Lü asked.

Han Qing nodded. “I don’t care about other clothing shops in North County. I invited you because I admire your talent.”

The man hesitated. He was tempted, yet still reluctant.

“There’s something else you might like. Soon, I’ll promote your work at Drunken Flower Pavilion—you may be busy,” Han Qing said.

These words moved Lü Wen Cai completely. He had always wanted others to see his designs but never had the chance. Now Han Qing would fulfill that wish—why refuse such a benefactor?

He nodded, tears in his eyes, solving a major problem for the clothing shop. Han Qing brought him directly to Zhao’s Cloth House.

“Choose suitable assistants, and if any materials are lacking, just ask,” Han Qing granted him great authority.

However, replacing the original tailors would inevitably stir dissatisfaction. Upon hearing the news, Zhao Chengzhang rushed over.

Most of their tailors had been recruited by Uncle Zhao, so replacing them entirely might cause conflict.

“Isn’t this too decisive?” Zhao Chengzhang asked, hesitating—not because he doubted Han Qing, but because the Zhao family still had unresolved issues.

If problems arose, more trouble would follow.

“If not decisive, your shop’s profits will keep falling. The old tailors laze about all day, and without new styles, how can we earn money?” Han Qing’s words left Zhao speechless.

He was right. Zhao’s own indecisiveness had caused many unresolved matters.

“Besides, those Zhao family members have nothing to do with me,” Han Qing said calmly, unruffled.

No matter how noisy the Zhao relatives became, it made no difference. Even the old master of Zhao looked the other way. As juniors, all they needed was to deflect responsibilities.

Don’t attach too much importance to certain relatives. Anyone who hinders progress is not worth defending.

“Yes, I understand,” Zhao Chengzhang said sincerely. Sometimes, indecision leads nowhere.