Silk Roads and Shopping Streets
The morning light spilled over the high walls of the elite compound, illuminating manicured courtyards and tiled rooftops. It was another crisp autumn day in 1976, and Jia Lan sat at the breakfast table sipping warm soy milk from a porcelain cup so thin, it rang like crystal when she set it down.
Across from her, Lin Shunhua, her mother, sat in a soft wool qipao, its subtle floral print tailored to perfection. Beside her was Jia Ruiyu, Jia Lan's elder sister, elegant as always in a hand-embroidered jacket, her hair pinned with mother-of-pearl clips.
"Lan'er," her mother said, folding a napkin with delicate fingers, "we'll head out after breakfast. You'll need proper clothes for your new job. I heard the head of the Youth Arts Bureau is a stickler for presentation."
Jia Lan raised her brows slightly. "Is that so? I was planning to show up in patched trousers and rubber sandals. Make a real statement."
Jia Ruiyu nearly choked on her steamed bun, laughing behind her hand. "You could, but only if you want to give the poor bureau secretary a heart attack."
Lin Shunhua gave both of them a mild look of amusement, but her voice remained graceful. "No jokes. We'll stop by Minghua Department Store first, then go to Yuji Tailors. They just received some imported fabric through private channels."
Imported. That word again. Jia Lan's eyes lit up.
> Ding! Daily Check-In Complete! Location Detected: Jia Family Courtyard 🎁 Reward Unlocked: Tailor's Grace – All outfits you wear enhance your elegance and leave a lasting impression. (Passive Skill)
She blinked at the transparent screen that only she could see. Tailor's Grace? That explained why she'd looked like a perfume ad model even in her cotton pajamas.
Not bad for Day 2.
"Sounds good," Jia Lan said aloud, brushing her hair behind one ear. "Let's go charm the shopkeepers."
---
By mid-morning, the black car with the Jia family seal had rolled smoothly past the security gate and into the heart of the capital's commercial district.
Even here, the difference was visible. The common people in line for soap coupons parted like water when the sleek car stopped in front of Minghua Department Store, one of the only places in the city where fabric, perfumes, and imported soaps could be found—if you had the right connections or ration tickets.
The three Jia women stepped out, turning heads as they entered.
"Madam Lin, Miss Jia," the head floor clerk greeted immediately, his voice soft and polished. "Welcome. We've reserved a selection for you in the private viewing room upstairs."
The wooden staircase creaked faintly under their feet as they climbed, passing rows of cotton, wool, and dyed silks.
In the private room, rolls of fabric were laid out like treasure: seafoam green linen, rose silk with plum blossoms, pale blue brocade with silver thread.
Jia Ruiyu turned over a bolt of ivory silk. "This one's from the south. It would look beautiful as a blouse with a mandarin collar."
Jia Lan ran her fingers over the cloth, thoughtful. "I want something a bit more modern. Not too flashy, but not bland. I'll be the youngest in the bureau, so I need to balance looking competent and stylish."
Her mother nodded approvingly. "That's the right mindset. You can't outshine your superiors, but you mustn't appear forgettable either."
Jia Ruiyu smirked. "So, no rhinestones?"
"Only on the inside," Jia Lan replied smoothly.
By noon, they had purchased three sets of fabric—two for tailored work dresses, and one soft cream wool for cooler days. The purchases were wrapped and handed off to the shop's attendant with a bow.
Next stop: Yuji Tailors, tucked into a quiet alley where only the city's elite came to have their garments hand-sewn. The owner, a bespectacled older man in a brown jacket, greeted them personally.
"Madam Lin, Miss Ruiyu, Miss Lan. Come in. I've cleared the back room for you."
Inside, Jia Lan stood patiently on the low platform as her measurements were taken. The tailor murmured about her proportions, his assistants nodding as they sketched ideas on notepads.
"Let's keep the silhouette soft but structured," Lin Shunhua instructed gently. "No western collars. A subtle waistline. Something that speaks of cultured upbringing, not just beauty."
"Understood," the tailor said, nodding. "We'll have two dresses ready by tomorrow evening. You'll look like a painting."
"That's the idea," Jia Lan said with a small smile.
---
As they left the tailor and walked toward the shaded car waiting at the end of the street, Jia Lan noticed the subtle changes from her old life.
Gone were the noisy honks, glass buildings, and smartphones. Here, it was cobblestones and soft-spoken shopkeepers. Conversations were hushed, heads lowered. But power—true, inherited, bloodline-bound power—was still evident in how people looked at them. In how doors opened without being knocked on.
She was still adjusting to this world. But she'd survive.
And she'd look good doing it.