Chapter 85: A Display of Skill

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Fixing the cracked base was straightforward; Uncle could go to the Shougang factory and have a new one cast. It might not look pretty, but as long as it worked, that was enough. If the leather upholstery was damaged, that was even easier; my aunt could sew a canvas slipcover for the chair, wrapping it entirely and converting the leather seat into a fabric one, just as usable.

As for the barber tools, there was no need for a referral letter—everything was available at the big department stores: electric clippers, specialized hairdressing scissors, a large all-metal hairdryer, combs, and other small gadgets. There was one thing, however, that Hong Tao did not purchase: a straight razor. Just the sight of it sent a chill down his spine, for fear that one day he might accidentally cut someone’s throat again. So he simply decided not to offer a shaving service at all. In any case, the salon’s main clientele would be young people and women; those burly, bearded men could stay away—it was a relief not to have to deal with them.

Additionally, Hong Tao came up with a special design: he didn’t seal up the door between the tailor shop and the salon, but instead framed the doorway with wooden boards and installed a removable door. During the day, the door could be taken down, connecting the salon and tailor shop into a single space. Hong Tao figured that the women getting their hair permed would be sitting idle anyway, so why not browse the tailor shop and look at new clothes? And those who came for clothing could conveniently check out the latest hairstyles in the salon. Clothes and hairstyles—these were things women were passionate about. This way, the two businesses could feed off each other.

In truth, the most troublesome matter was the lettering for the shop sign! In this era, there were no printing shops on every corner, much less ready-made signboards. Most state-run shops used either large copper letters or wooden plaques. Hong Tao didn’t like either option; come nightfall, neither would be visible. It wasn’t a big deal for the tailor shop, but the salon stayed open late. If the sign couldn’t be seen, it would greatly affect the business’s visibility. The shop was right by the main street—what a waste it would be if people riding the bus home couldn’t notice this unique salon!

Using outdoor spotlights wasn’t an option either, as such things weren’t available yet. In the end, Hong Tao came up with a solution: he shattered a mirror and used the fragments to spell out the words “Hair Salon” above the entrance. Then he bought several explosion-proof lamps meant for bathrooms, mounted them on half-inch water pipes, and extended them out above the sign to serve as outdoor lighting. Although the explosion-proof lamps weren’t particularly bright, the glass fragments would reflect the light, so the effect should be quite decent.

Early the next morning, Hong Tao rushed to the construction site, only to find it deserted—the workers hadn’t arrived yet. Only then did he remember that there were no true construction crews at this time; even the housing authority’s team were official employees who worked strict hours—they’d never arrive a minute early or stay a minute late.

The first to appear at the site wasn’t the construction team or Uncle, but Han Xue. She was still wearing the bell-bottom pants and batwing top that Hong Tao had given her, and on her feet, as per his suggestion, was a pair of black Mary Janes with about a 4-centimeter heel—already considered high heels.

“Hey there, beauty, have you had breakfast? If not, I’ll treat you to bean flour dumplings across the street—they’re delicious with sesame paste and Sichuan pepper salt,” Hong Tao greeted her warmly, reaching out to grab her arm.

“This is the payment for three sets of clothes—the measurements are written on the paper. Give it to your aunt quickly,” Han Xue said, dodging his hand and placing a white paper packet in his palm.

“Already got a job for us? Impressive! No rush, my aunt will be here soon anyway—it’s her shop, she’s bound to care the most. By the way, how does the outfit look? Did your friends think it was stylish?” Hong Tao, his hand now occupied with the paper packet and unable to take advantage, shifted the conversation.

“It’s not bad. Didn’t you say you’d perm my hair? Can you do it today?” Han Xue started off nonchalantly but grew quieter, her face flushing as she finished her sentence.

“Well, well, looks like you’re growing shy—blushing while talking to a kid like me? If you let me hold your hand for a while, I’ll perm your hair; if not, then forget it!” Hong Tao tucked the packet into his pocket and extended his hand again, pausing in mid-air for her response.

“…Hmph, as if I’m afraid of you! Fine, hold my hand!” This time, Han Xue’s face was fully crimson. She hesitated, gritted her teeth, but eventually grabbed his hand, though she kept her arm stiff and awkward.

Just then, a group of men on bicycles stopped at the shop’s entrance—the housing authority’s workers had finally arrived. Half the group were strapping young men. At the sight of Han Xue’s outfit, their eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and they began to whistle and tease.

“Go home and whistle at your own mothers! Annoying!” Han Xue’s face, previously flushed, quickly returned to normal as she snapped back at them. She was well-accustomed to this sort of scene—first she cursed, then rolled her eyes, raised her chin, and strutted past the group with exaggerated steps.

The young men, far from angered by her retorts and eye-rolling, seemed even more delighted, their whistling growing louder.

In those days, if a young woman called you annoying or rolled her eyes at you, it was considered flirting. There was a saying: “If she hits you, she likes you; if she scolds you, she loves you; if she gets mad, she’ll kick you!” From this point on, Beijing men began their long descent into fear of their wives—a fate they have yet to escape. Beijing girls were famously hard to please; you couldn’t out-argue them, and if you dared to say one word, they had ten ready for you. As for violence, you wouldn’t dare—she might have four or five brothers and cousins, and you’d be the one to suffer. All you could do was coax them.

“Aren’t you afraid your family will say something if you take me home like this?” Once they turned into the alley and left the hecklers behind, passersby—both men and women—gave Han Xue curious looks. For a young woman to dress like this and parade around was the equivalent of walking down the street in a bikini in later times. Han Xue was unfazed, used to such stares, but she was curious that Hong Tao didn’t mind either. In fact, he held her hand and swung their arms as they walked.

“The pursuit of beauty is human nature; nobody has the right to judge, as long as it’s not against the law. They curse you because they’re jealous—they want to be beautiful but lack your courage. So they resent you for being different. Isn’t that right? By the way, your skin is quite soft—what sort of lotion do you use?” Hong Tao comforted her as he spoke, running his other hand over the back of hers and feigning to drool.

“Behave yourself! If you keep it up, I’ll twist your ear!” To Han Xue, the sensation of his hand was like a snake coiled on her skin, hard to shake off. Seeing his expression, she shivered with goosebumps.

“Just try it! If you pull my ear again, I’ll hug you and call you mom right here! You think I won’t? I’ll say I’m your illegitimate child and you’re abandoning me. You’ll be dragged off to the police station! See if you can get out of that one—I’ll make sure you regret it!” Hong Tao, shameless as ever, even rubbed his face against the back of her hand.

“Then I’m not going! I don’t want my hair permed! Let go of me!” Han Xue, fuming, gasped for breath. With people passing by, she didn’t dare make a scene, and this little rascal was insufferable—not content with touching her hand, he had to rub his face on it too.

“Heh heh, just kidding! I’m just teasing you. Alright, alright, I’ll stop.” Hong Tao dropped his playful act. He felt conflicted; physically, he was still just a kid, but mentally, he knew everything. Seeing a young woman like Han Xue made him itch to be close. Perhaps this was how eunuchs felt—desire without the means!

“Hmph! Don’t touch me!” Han Xue finally pulled her hand free. To avoid further harassment from this brat, she quickened her pace and left him behind, heading straight for his grandmother’s house, which she’d already visited the day before.

“Tsk tsk, you still need to work on your walk, beauty. Your upper body shouldn’t sway, but your hips should. Your strides are too big—looks awkward. Small steps are better… Hey! Where are you running off to?” Now Hong Tao shifted to critiquing her posture from behind. Unable to endure it any longer, Han Xue broke into a run, leaving him far behind—out of sight, out of mind!

“Yumei, can’t you do something about your nephew? He’s always joking around, never knows when to stop, and says whatever he likes. Aren’t you worried he’ll turn out badly?” When Hong Tao finally got home, Han Xue was already in his aunt’s room, complaining.

“If he doesn’t pick up any bad habits from you, he won’t pick them up from anyone. Two of your sizes are ready-made; the third pair of pants will have to be custom-made. You can take the first two now.” Though his aunt had never been out in society, teaching at a high school meant she was no stranger to girls like Han Xue. If Hong Tao hadn’t brought her, she wouldn’t have bothered with her at all, so she didn’t bother being polite.

“Fine, you’re all on his side!” Han Xue, already ruffled by Hong Tao, now found herself stifled by his aunt as well.

“Enough whining—come, bring your chair outside. We’ll do your perm in the courtyard!” Entering the room, Hong Tao retrieved the hairdressing tools and began directing Han Xue.

“Why do we have to do it in the courtyard?” Han Xue grumbled as she carried her chair, but asked all the same.