Chapter Ninety-Seven: The Model in the Spotlight

Hong Tao had bought two rolls so generously today not because he wanted to play around, but because he meant to take advertisement photos for his little shop.

Yesterday, by chance, he had noticed that both the tailor shop and the hair salon seemed to be missing the same thing: photographs. Not pictures of people, but pictures of clothes and hairstyles. If those photos were posted in the window, customers could see at a glance what the clothes and hairstyles looked like. They would serve as advertisements, and they would also save Auntie and Cousin a great deal of breath, because almost every customer asked what a garment would look like after it was worn, or what a hairstyle would look like after it was permed.

Hong Tao knew how to take pictures. In his past life, he had even played with a single-lens reflex camera for a few days, but his skill, like the rest of his hobbies, was only middling at best. Still, he had no choice but to do it himself, because photographers in this era were not the kind you could simply pay and expect to serve you. They were formal employees too. They would not bother with a private little shopkeeper, let alone make a special trip to take pictures for you.

Before shooting, there was still a lot to sort out. Hong Tao chose three models: the Han sisters and Jin Yue. He had picked only those three because they were the only ones he could talk into it; the other girls would never, even over their dead bodies, allow their photos to be pasted up in the shop for everyone to stare at. How humiliating would that be?

To take the photos, Hong Tao had his aunt close the tailor shop first and use the room as both a changing room and a makeup room. The shooting location was the sidewalk right outside the shop door.

In those days, people were curious about everything. Hong Tao had only taken a dozen or so photos when another ring of onlookers gathered on the sidewalk. Watching the two older girls and the one younger girl come and go like a revolving lantern, changing outfits one after another and then switching hairstyles, everyone was fascinated. They not only looked, they also gossiped. And there was always someone even more absurd: apparently, one envious soul had sneaked off to call the police station.

"Yes, yes, yes... hold the door frame... lift it a bit higher... keep at it!"

Hong Tao had no idea there were such enthusiastic spectators behind him. Anyway, if people wanted to watch, let them watch. The sidewalk was not his family’s property, and there was no way he could drive them off.

"Putt-putt... putt-putt-putt!"

"Oh my, now this is getting interesting—the police are here! Everybody make room, let the officers through!"

A commotion suddenly broke out behind him. With the sound of a motorcycle engine, the crowd parted on its own, opening a path. Three policemen in white uniforms with red collar tabs came walking in.

"Young man, what exactly are you doing here?"

Hong Tao was not deaf; he had already heard the crowd talking behind him. He had put down the camera and stood waiting for the police to question him.

"Hello, Officer. I’m taking photos here."

If not for these two shops, Hong Tao would have had no hesitation in snapping back at them. Ordinary people, so long as they were not breaking the law, had no reason to be afraid of the police. But with these two shops now on his back, he had taken on responsibilities, and his temper had to be kept in check.

"Oh... and who are they to you?" The officer’s attitude was actually quite good. In truth, he himself was not sure what to make of Hong Tao’s behavior. The call had only said that someone here was doing something indecent and improper. But if taking pictures counted as indecent and improper, then that would be hard to justify. Still, several girls were dressed in peculiar ways and letting a little boy take their pictures, so it did seem strange enough to ask about.

"They all work in the shop. This little girl isn’t; she’s my neighbor."

Hong Tao did not really know what the police procedure was like in this era, so he could only answer whatever was asked.

"Oh, so this shop belongs to your family! I’ve been to your house, and I’ve seen that old lady. What is she to you?"

The officer was quite patient. He simply crouched down in front of Hong Tao.

"Oh dear, I’ve been talking and forgot to invite you in for a seat. Auntie! We have guests! Hurry and make tea!"

Hong Tao saw that three policemen were blocking the doorway, with a large crowd gathered outside. That would badly affect business. So whether the officers liked it or not, he tugged the man along toward the room while calling out as they walked.

"My, this room is actually pretty nice. Don’t bother yourselves, we won’t sit. We just came to ask about the situation. No need to be too worried. I’m the neighborhood officer for this area. My surname is Zhou."

The policeman could hardly shake off Hong Tao’s hand, especially since he was just a child, so he followed him inside. The other two officers did not come in; instead, they returned to the side of the road where the three-wheeled motorcycle was parked.

"Hello, Uncle Zhou. My surname is Hong. The old lady you mentioned is my grandmother, and this is my aunt."

Hong Tao shamelessly extended a hand and shook it with the officer, then began introducing the people in the shop.

"Oh, your staffing situation here is rather complicated. Have you registered with the neighborhood committee?"

The policeman took out a little notebook and started writing as Hong Tao spoke.

"We registered! We also registered with the street office. Look, this is the banner the district chief gave us!"

Hong Tao was very glad he had not thrown that banner into some corner back then. Now it was coming in handy.

"Oh, good. I was transferred here not long ago, so I’m still not very familiar with the area. I may have to trouble you again in the future. All right, then, nothing’s wrong. You can continue taking pictures."

The officer leaned in, examined the banner carefully, then reached out and patted Hong Tao on the head with a smile before leaving. Once outside, he even helped disperse the crowd of gawkers for Hong Tao.

"Xiao Tao, are you all right? Why did the police come?" Auntie’s face had gone pale. During the whole time the officers were inside, she had not managed to say a single word. She had been twisting the corners of her clothes so hard that she nearly tore them.

"Auntie, we’re not stealing or robbing anyone. We’re not criminals. The police are here to protect us. In the future, you can’t start trembling the moment you see a policeman. It’s bad people who get scared when they see police. Take her, for example—look at her, she’s practically hiding under the table. Yan, the other day you and I were arguing about good people and bad people. Look at your sister. Does she look like a good person?"

Hong Tao tried to comfort his aunt while pointing at Han Xue, who was standing farthest away. Her head was nearly pressed into the wall.

"Then Sister Yu Mei is scared too. Why are you picking on my sister?" Han Yan had become familiar with them over these days and was no longer shy. She still did not talk much, but when it came to her sister, she would still step forward to defend her.

"Fine, then all of you are bad people, and I’m the only good one. All right, enough chatter. Keep shooting. Hurry up, hurry up. If the sun gets too strong at noon, we won’t be able to take any more pictures."

Seeing that he could not take advantage of this one, Hong Tao quickly changed the subject and herded Han Xue, Han Yan, and Jin Yue back outside like ducks.

Under Hong Tao’s direction, the Han sisters were truly miserable. They not only had to pose, they also had to endure the pointing fingers and comments of the crowd. Jin Yue, on the other hand, was fine; she was just a little girl, and nobody said much about her. By the time Hong Tao had finally finished both rolls of film, the sisters hurried back into the shop and refused to show themselves again. Only Jin Yue still had not had her fill. She changed into a white dress and kept posing, while Hong Tao could only pretend to press the shutter and fool the child.

Around three in the afternoon, three women suddenly walked into the salon, and Hong Tao’s eyes lit up.

It was not because they were especially beautiful, but because their clothes and manner of dress were very different from the norm. Two of them wore suit dresses with long stockings on their legs. The third wore trousers, but her top was made of silk and of excellent quality, and she had a necklace around her neck. Hong Tao could not tell whether it was gold or not. Whether it was genuine or not, a woman who dared wear a blouse with such a large lapel, exposing so much of her neck, and who also wore jewelry, was certainly not an ordinary commoner.

"You’re the kid who can perm hair, right?" Before Hong Tao had even gone up to greet them, the one wearing jewelry asked first.

"I suppose that would be me. Are the three of you here for a haircut or a perm?"

Hong Tao roughly knew who they were. That married woman from last night probably had some connection to them.

"We heard about your place from our colleagues and came over to take a look. Was that hairstyle from yesterday really done by you?" The three of them did not say whether they wanted their hair done or not. They just wandered around the room, and the two in suit dresses had already gone over to the tailor shop side.

"Oh, I see. You mean that sister in the white suit dress, right? Yes, that was my work. Would you like me to design a hairstyle for you too? That style of hers isn’t necessarily the best choice for you. Everyone has a different face shape and temperament. It’s just like clothing: if you want to wear something with taste and make it stand out, it has to be tailored to the individual."

Hong Tao once again started using the theories of his later life to bluff people.

"Oh? Then I’d really like to hear what kind of hairstyle you plan to design for me. How about this: if you design it well, the three of us will get it done. If it doesn’t satisfy us, then we’ll leave."

This woman had even thrown Hong Tao a challenge.

"Of course, no problem. But I should make one thing clear in advance: clothes bought in a department store definitely are not priced the same as bespoke clothing. You understand that rule, don’t you?"

Hong Tao knew he had run into a big fish. If he did not carve out a proper slice of them, it would be a waste.

"No problem. How much do you charge?" The woman was straightforward.

"Thirty yuan each! I guarantee there won’t be a second hairstyle like yours anywhere in the whole capital, and it will fit your face shape and temperament too. If you’re not satisfied, you don’t have to pay. Consider it free work."

Hong Tao held up three fingers and made a bold promise.

"What a mouth you have. Here—thirty yuan. If I’m satisfied, you keep the money. If I’m not, I take it back. Start."

The woman pulled three ten-yuan notes from her little satchel and slapped them onto the shelf in front of the seat, then plopped herself into the chair.

"Sister Da Ling, lock the door first. Let’s finish the hair on these two, and we’ll call it a day. Once you two are done with your own work, come over and watch how I do the new hairstyles. Learn as much as you can. Auntie, please wash this lady’s hair with me first—just wet it down a bit so I can get the scissors in."

Hong Tao glanced around and saw that there were not many people in the room yet, only two customers who were having their hair permed. He was determined to get these women no matter what, so he simply stopped taking on any more business and focused entirely on these three.