“Dingxin Pawnshop…” Lin Yuchan looked up at the sign with “bats hanging golden coins,” not quite believing it. “Why bring me to a pawnshop?”

Making clothes from scratch would be too late—she’d thought Su Minguan would introduce her to some ready-made clothing shops.

But Su Minguan seemed confident as he pushed open the door.

The pawnshop’s storefront had a magnificent screen at the entrance, originally meant to shield customers inside from embarrassment, but now served as a tool for the pawnshop to flaunt wealth. The interior was built with different levels—the counter platform was several feet higher than the entrance, so clerks looked down from above while customers could only look up to speak. When encountering female customers or children, sometimes they couldn’t even reach the counter edge.

This was naturally to prevent customers from seeing operations on the counter, leaving ample room for deductions and exploitation.

Desperate customers would hold up their items for the clerks behind to examine and price, like presenting tribute at court, so the position behind the counter was called “court tribute receiver.”

Lin Yuchan was one of those discriminated against for height. Behind the screen, she saw only a wall, completely in the dark.

Su Minguan leaned against the high counter without looking up, directly giving instructions through the wooden board.

Moments later, the gate on the side of the counter opened, and a portly court tribute receiver came down several steps, greeting them warmly.

“Young master, please come in. Madam, please come in.”

Lin Yuchan raised her eyebrows. No matter how she heard it, this person seemed to be helping Su Minguan take advantage of her.

She adjusted the small white flower by her temple and said in a very soft voice: “Sigh, my dead husband is coming back to life again.”

Su Minguan’s gaze was sharp, glancing at her, then she very naturally clarified to the clerk: “She’s my sister.”

The portly court tribute receiver didn’t change expression, calling over a clerk to watch the shop: “Young master, please come in. Miss, please come in.”

The small white flower? The court tribute receiver had his nose in the air and didn’t see it at all.

Things unrelated to making money—who had time for such idle concerns?

Su Minguan wore a tiny smile, taking advantage of the court tribute receiver opening the back hall door to step forward.

When passing by Lin Yuchan, he lowered his head slightly and said in her ear: “You can end the mourning period. No one here knows how long you’ve been observing it.”

Lin Yuchan shot him a small, white-eyed glare. She remembered his shameless words: “…According to custom, it’s three years, but I can show mercy—twenty-five months is enough…”

It had only been a year. He wanted to show mercy just like that? How presumptuous of him.

She smiled sweetly: “I think this is quite good.”

You just stay as a ghost—quite good indeed.

Su Minguan’s mouth twitched, wanting to say something but stopping, finally saying quietly: “It was just an expedient measure, not real, right?”

Lin Yuchan blinked and shamelessly pursued: “Do you want it to be real?”

If he dared nod, she’d use his “dowry theory” to choke him and make his face swell.

Sure enough, Su Minguan was somewhat sensible, shaking his head, his mouth showing the familiar business fake smile.

He said, “Just a friendly reminder—I had my fortune told. My fate is to bring misfortune to wives, afraid of dragging down your luck.”

This was the first time Lin Yuchan had detected Guangdong people’s superstitious genes in him, and she couldn’t help smiling.

She was an excellent Communist Youth League member—believing would be ridiculous.

So she also fake-smiled back at him, not to be outdone:

“I also bring misfortune to husbands. I’ve already killed one for over a year—so unlucky.”

At this moment, the court tribute receiver finally unlocked the door, turning around with a smile.

Su Minguan sighed softly, ending this inexplicable conversation, no longer paying attention to her.

The pawnshop’s back hall had storage rooms on all four sides of the courtyard, three stories high. The clerk went up to the second floor and unlocked a room with his key.

Su Minguan said, “Only grade A items.”

The clerk agreed while having people bring several trunks. Opening them, Lin Yuchan’s eyelids jumped, and she let out a soft exclamation.

All clothes.

And extremely beautiful Chinese garments. At first glance, the styles weren’t clear, but the color coordination was extremely comfortable. Dozens of various colored dresses stacked together somehow didn’t seem garish; however, they were matched, they showed taste, like harmonious strokes of Western oil paintings.

The storage room had dim lighting. The clerk lit a lamp and moved out stacks of clothes. Su Minguan quickly scanned them, pulling out one piece, then another, casually stacking them on a wooden table nearby.

Each garment had a number tag hanging from it and gave off the uniform scent of mothballs.

“Grade A means never worn, clean.” Su Minguan said unhurriedly. “Wealthy household ladies have many clothes—some never worn before going out of season, given to servants who sold them cheaply for money. Some were stolen and sold by servants. Some were from raids after crimes, officials secretly profiting. As for those from declining households, sending trunks full of clothing without screening—those are orders every pawnshop owner dreams of laughing about. These things will never be redeemed, all become permanent pawns—buy with confidence.”

The portly court tribute receiver beside him, hearing his detailed knowledge, couldn’t help looking embarrassed, finding a chance to interject: “Young master can’t say it like that—we also spend labor sorting these clothes, don’t we? And the sources are all legitimate, some made by tailor shops when customers didn’t want them—ten-tenths new, nine-point-nine-tenths new…”

As the court tribute receiver spoke, his tongue began to tie up. Usually, his daily work was to disparage customers’ pawned items as worthless in front of them, nitpicking faults, and making people cry was common. Today, doing the opposite, promoting goods’ advantages instead, inevitably made his mind split, his words becoming increasingly irrelevant.

Fortunately, the court tribute receiver was experienced and quickly stopped this line of talk, instead smiling: “However, hehe, young master is an expert—surely you’ve come to find bargains before. Today I’ll give you a regular customer price…”

Su Minguan suddenly sneered coldly: “Find bargains? Unfortunately, this is the first time. I used to be the one holding up items.”

The court tribute receiver felt this joke was going too far, his face changing slightly, not daring to say more.

While speaking, Su Minguan had already picked out over ten pieces, beckoning to Lin Yuchan.

Not wanting the clerk to hear more, he flicked his tongue, switching to Guangfu dialect: “These all match your age and status. Close your eyes and pick a set—you won’t go wrong.”

Lin Yuchan couldn’t get a word in the whole time, dazzled, her worldview refreshed again.

If the red water chestnut shell dress, the tailor-made, seemed like a minor Qing palace drama configuration to her, this batch before her eyes was completely like items moved from a museum.

Today Lin Yuchan truly saw for the first time the clothing style of current upper-class noble ladies—the Qi family were nouveau riche, didn’t count—already showing preliminary tailored cuts, also abandoning redundant wealth-flaunting decorations. Jiangnan coastal areas were fashion birthplaces, details already showing Western influence, already having the spirit of late Qing and early Republic eras.

Soft tones, delicate color gradations, lively and free, elegant yet vivacious patterns—madder water waves, butterflies through clouds, scattered flowers and tassels, even rococo Western lace…

And not at all showing excessive effort, a completely everyday temperament.

Lin Yuchan was gratified to realize that in the Qing Dynasty, not everyone had skewed aesthetics.

It was just that the current society was too stratified. Upper and lower classes differed not only in cultural level, living habits, and daily diet, but even in aesthetics were torn apart.

Commoners’ clothes favored looseness because fabrics lacked elasticity, and to ensure movement convenience, so room had to be left. Fabric warmth was also poor—wearing three layers inside and outside in winter, couldn’t be made small. Moreover, one garment might be rented and borrowed, possibly changing several owners before becoming rags. Also, loose clothes used more fabric, purple-red dyes cost more—all symbols of wealth, so aesthetics favored fat as beautiful, bright as beautiful.

But nobles’ everyday wear was opposite—priority was fit, second was refined design, so as not to be laughed at for borrowed clothes.

Those truly at fashion’s cutting edge, “stylish clothing,” could only be worn among nobles. Ordinary people had no chance even to see them.

Su Minguan wasn’t ordinary. His entire childhood was spent seeing these fine garments—his eye was extremely sharp.

But Lin Yuchan still kept alert, asking: “Can commoners wear them all?”

With a strict social hierarchy, certain precious fabrics and ornaments couldn’t be used by those without rank.

Su Minguan nodded: “Don’t worry.”

Indicating he’d already checked everything.

He then smiled softly: “Besides, the truly rank-violating ones you couldn’t afford anyway.”

Lin Yuchan smiled sweetly at him, not angry at all. He was helping in her time of need today—even if he insulted her eight hundred more times, she’d accept it with a smile.

She roughly looked at several pieces and was already having choice paralysis. Not wanting to delay him too long, she simply said: “You pick for me.”

He immediately smiled: “Then whatever I choose, you must wear, no backing out.”

He seemed to have preferences already, casually pulling out a set from the clothes pile: moon-white jacket, lotus-root colored pants, with inner shirt—four pieces total, all adorned with fine embroidery. The fabric was light silk—she couldn’t name the specific type, but holding it she knew it was extraordinary.

Like morning dew and light over a pond full of lotus buds, holding up a round moon.

Lin Yuchan was quite certain that wearing this “Lotus Pond Moonlight” outfit, running to any Qing palace drama crew in Hengdian, she could steal the female lead’s spotlight—what normal crew would dare burn money on costumes like this? The financial backers would withdraw funding.

However rich the red water chestnut shell was, it was just a common people’s carnival; such master craftsmanship was the upper class’s admission ticket.

The pawnshop had no place to try on clothes, but holding them against herself felt about right, so she happily decided to take them. At worst, she’d starve these few days, or work hard to eat more—there were always ways to squeeze herself into them.

Even the portly court tribute receiver praised them endlessly, laughing: “Let me find the young lady some boxes of exquisitely crafted shoes.”

Su Minguan immediately said, “No need.”

Lin Yuchan wore long pants today, sitting down, which covered her feet, so naturally, the court tribute receiver wouldn’t look there.

The styling of those so-called “exquisitely crafted shoes” was self-evident. Just thinking about it made him nauseous.

Among Guangzhou noble ladies, English high-heeled leather shoes are popular, naturally modified and made smaller. At least ten years ago, this was so.” He told Lin Yuchan quietly. “Whether this trend reached Jiangzhe, I don’t know, but wearing them shouldn’t be improper.”

Lin Yuchan was overjoyed, saying softly: “Mr. Scott, English cobbler. Master He’s recommendation can’t be wrong.”

Su Minguan looked at her suspiciously: “He recommended this to you, too?”

They spoke their hometown dialect quickly. Though the pawnshop court tribute receiver was experienced, he didn’t understand a word, only thinking they were discussing price, quickly volunteering: “You both know these items’ origins—all made regardless of cost, absolutely no corner-cutting. So these grade A goods are non-negotiable prices.”

Lin Yuchan hurriedly asked: “How much money?”