When it comes to Shanghai’s clothing markets, people born in the 2000s might vaguely have heard of Qipu Road. But back in the late 1990s, if you wanted to name the streets that stood at the forefront of Shanghai fashion, there were only two — Huating Road and Xiangyang Road. Compared to them, Qipu Road was just a little kid.
“Back in the day, I had a shop on Huating Road. I’m one of the first self-employed in Shanghai, you know?”
On the first day of summer vacation, Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia sat at the entrance of Zhao Jingwen’s shop in the Xiangyang Road clothing wholesale market. They fanned themselves with folded newspapers while listening to the stocking shop owner next door brag.
The lady was wrapped in a cloud of perfume. It was hard to tell her exact age, probably over forty, but her outfit was absolutely eye-catching. Her hair was dyed in two colors. She wore a thin-strapped crop top, paired with nearly white, tight-fitting denim jeans, and black stiletto sandals. If you dropped her into 2020, it would be called retro Y2K fashion.
Having lived through two different eras, Ning Xiaobei couldn’t help but feel that even young girls twenty years later wouldn’t dare dress this boldly, let alone older women. Fashion trends were truly impossible to understand, it wasn’t like things just got more open over time.
But in this era, on the brink of entering a new century, women on the streets of Shanghai, young and old alike, mostly dressed like this.
And not just their clothes. Their makeup was just as daring. It was like they wanted to paint eight colors onto their eyelids. Girls copied Wang Fei’s style, putting sunburn blush on their cheeks and walking under the blazing sun with a fearless, avant-garde air, as if stepping into 1999 meant the whole world was about to change.
“The Huating Road market opened in 1984. People called it Little Hong Kong. Back then, when I was selling clothes there, it wasn’t like now with sizes like S or L. Everything came wholesale from factories as full sets. And anything I didn’t have? Every single piece in my hands was one of a kind in all of Shanghai, okay?”
The auntie spoke animatedly with spit practically flying.
“Those fashionable girls back then, college students, they’d place orders with me months in advance. If you were even a bit late, someone else would snatch it up. And once they wore it out on the street, half the men on the road would turn to look… you get it, right?”
“I get it, I get it.”
Ning Xiaobei nodded, thinking to himself that she really didn’t need to dress up smuggling goods in such elegant words.
“Anyway, back in 1984, were you two even born yet, little brothers?”
The auntie paused for a moment, looking a bit puzzled.
“In the 1980s, the most popular trends in China, batwing tops, stirrup pants, bell-bottoms… do you know where all those styles first took off?They were all started by me! So, in today’s terms, I’d be called, the Holy Mother of Fashion.”
Her bragging grew more and more outrageous. If the Holy Mother had already appeared, how far could Guanyin be?
“It’s fashion godmother.”
Ning Xiaobei corrected her.
“Aiyo, this little brother really knows his stuff.”
The Shanghai fashion godmother covered her mouth and laughed. “You’re Xiao Zhao’s son, right? Your dad’s quite handsome, and you’re a good-looking kid too.”
“No, no, I’m his neighbor…”
Just as Ning Xiaobei was about to explain, two customers walked into the fashion godmother’s stocking shop, and she hurried off to attend to her business.
“Boss, it’s so hot. If I’d known it’d be this hot and noisy, I’d rather stay at home with the air conditioning.”
Fan Xia fanned himself with both hands at once, as if he wished his arms could turn into electric fans. He stuck out his tongue as he spoke.
Although the wholesale market wasn’t outdoors, it was basically one small shed connected to another. There was no way to install air conditioning, at best, they could use electric fans. The place was packed with people and goods, with barely any airflow. In summer it was unbearably stuffy, and on rainy days it was even worse.
“Now you see that making money isn’t so easy, right? You’ve only been sitting here for a few hours. Your uncle has to watch the shop, go source goods, negotiate deals, hand out flyers…”
Ning Xiaobei counted on his fingers as he spoke. “Now do you realize how nice it is to sit in school, attend class, and just do homework when you get home?”
“Alright, alright, boss, stop talking. I was wrong!”
Fan Xia immediately felt his head swell from the lecture and raised both hands in surrender.
“Xiaobei, Xiaoxia, have some snacks first. Once business picks up, you won’t even have time to sit down.”
Zhao Jingwen’s shop had hired a full-time shop assistant named Su Lai. Miss Su was in her early twenties and treated Ning Xiaobei and the others like her own younger brothers, taking especially good care of them.
She brought out two buns and two bottles of milk, urging them to eat something first to fill their stomachs.
These past few days, Zhao Jingwen had gone on a business trip. Through a friend, he had found a clothing factory in Guangzhou to discuss cooperation, and he would be away for at least a week.
On this side, Ning Jianguo was busy overseeing the renovation of the cafeteria. Even Aunt Wang from next door had taken Chang Leyun out on a trip, leaving early that morning for Hongqiao Airport.
The two kids were suddenly left without anyone to look after them, which made Ning Jianguo quite worried. He wanted them to go back to Jiande Lane, where at least Xiao Mei could cook for them.
But the kids, already used to living in modern apartment buildings, simply couldn’t stand the old alley houses without toilets or showers. Ning Xiaobei repeatedly assured him that he could take care of himself and Fan Xia too, and that they wouldn’t go hungry or catch cold.
Early that morning, Ning Xiaobei’s dad took the key Uncle Zhao had given him, went straight into the Zhao family’s place downstairs, and dragged the half-asleep little rascal Fan Xia into the bathroom to wash up. While Fan Xia was taking care of his personal business, Ning Xiaobei stuffed both of their summer homework into a bag, then went downstairs to buy breakfast. After making Fan Xia eat a cifantuan (sticky rice roll), he grabbed his hand and walked with him to the bus stop.
After getting off, Ning Xiaobei led Fan Xia through a maze of winding alleys until they found Zhao Jingwen’s shop. By coincidence, they ran into Miss Su just as she was pulling up the rolling shutter to open for the day.
Business was slow in the morning, with barely any customers. So Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia each leaned over a small stool and started doing their homework. Only when the surrounding shops gradually opened one after another did they put their homework away.
Seeing the two good-looking boys, well, even if one of them was unusually dark, the aunties and older sisters from the shops on both sides were all delighted. They kept pulling Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia into conversation, and some would come by now and then to feed them candies and snacks.
These women who dealt in clothes and bags were all fashionably dressed, open in manner, and carried all kinds of fragrances. Fan Xia already liked looking at pretty women, so he figured that if it weren’t for the unbearable heat, and the air mixed with the smell of fabrics and leather, it wouldn’t be so hard to endure staying here.
The fashion godmother came back after closing a sale, in a great mood. Seeing Ning Xiaobei sitting neatly on a small stool, calm and composed, in sharp contrast to the little monkey fidgeting behind him, she kept nodding. “Mm, you’ve got presence, got a bit of a boss’s air about you.”
Boss Ning just smiled faintly, not taking it seriously, but it stirred up Fan Xia’s competitive spirit.
He had been so hot earlier that he took his fan and wandered around a few nearby shops. He discovered that those stores were really pulling out all the stops to attract customers.
Some used loudspeakers on loop, blasting ‘clearance sale, everything must go’ ads. Some placed plastic mannequins at the entrance, covered in flashing, colorful lights. Others cranked their speakers to deafening levels, on the left was《Love Like the Tide1《爱如潮水》 (Love Like the Tide) — by Jeff Chang》, on the right《 Too Soft-Hearted2《心太软》 (Too Soft-Hearted) — by Richie Ren》, in front《Heroes’ Song3《好汉歌》 (Heroes’ Song) — theme from Water Margin》, and behind《Chinese Folk Song4《中华民谣》 (Chinese Folk Song) — by Sun Hao》, by the time Fan Xia walked through, he felt like his eardrums were about to burst.
These tactics were clearly effective. Groups of aunties, moms, and schoolgirls crowded at the entrances, picking out scarves, sunglasses, and bags, business was nonstop.
But when he got back to his uncle’s shop, there were none of those flashy tricks. No loudspeakers, no music. After dressing up the mannequin and placing it at the entrance, Miss Su simply sat quietly inside, not even calling out to customers. Compared to the lively shops outside, their place felt deserted, which made Fan Xia anxious to the point of irritation.
No foot traffic meant no business, and no business meant his uncle wouldn’t have money to support him. The more he thought about it, the more serious it seemed. He grabbed Miss Su and asked what they should do.
“Don’t worry about that, Xiaoxia. Our customers aren’t those people. Sit down and finish your snacks first.”
Miss Su replied lightly.
“Aiyo, the emperor isn’t worried but the eunuch is worried sick! Boss, think of something!”
Seeing that it was almost noon, and the surrounding shops selling socks, leather shoes, and swimwear had all started making sales while their shop still hadn’t opened for business, Fan Xia was practically dying of worry.
He kept nudging Ning Xiaobei, as if Ning Xiaobei was Ikkyu-san5Ikkyu-san is a character from the 1970s Japanese anime Ikkyū-san, portrayed as a clever young monk who solves problems with quick wit, often tapping his head as he thinks. He’s based on the real historical figure Ikkyū Sōjun, a Zen monk from 15th-century Japan known for his sharp intelligence, poetic talent, and unconventional, rebellious personality. While the anime presents him as a playful child genius, the real Ikkyū was a free-spirited thinker who often challenged social norms and authority.; just drawing two circles on his head with his finger and solving any problem instantly.
“There is a way.”
Ning Xiaobei turned to look at the racks full of women’s clothing, then pointed at Fan Xia. “It just depends on whether you’re willing.”
“Say it, say it, I’m definitely willing!”
Fan Xia nodded repeatedly.
“Pick any outfit, go inside and change into it, then head out and hand out flyers. I guarantee the effect will be amazing. A hundred loudspeakers wouldn’t compare, you’d shake the whole street.”
Ning Xiaobei said it with a completely straight face.
“Boss… don’t you see my uncle’s entire shop sells women’s clothes? It’s either skirts or skinny pants, you want me to wear that out there?”
Fan Xia said, his face full of black lines.
“That’s why I said shake the whole street…”
Miss Su and the fashion godmother burst into giggles. They hadn’t expected such a young kid to be this funny.
“Don’t worry, Xiaoxia. Our customers will come after they’ve finished lunch.”
Miss Su pointed outside.
This Xiangyang Road clothing market, now gone with the tide of urban redevelopment, was in a prime location. It sat south of the famous Huaihai Middle Road, near the South Shaanxi Road exit of Metro Line 1, surrounded by high-rise buildings and department stores.
“Our clothes aren’t like those cheap knockoffs outside, worth next to nothing and only able to sell by volume. That’s why they have to shout themselves hoarse doing business, looks really unrefined…”
She smiled as she explained. “The people who buy our clothes are white-collar women working in the nearby offices. They’re all in their cubicles right now. Once it’s lunchtime, they’ll come out, so there’s no rush.”
After listening, Fan Xia nodded as if he half understood, then nudged Ning Xiaobei, who was grinning mischievously.
“Boss… you already knew this, didn’t you? You were just messing with me, weren’t you?”
And he even wanted him to wear women’s clothes, what a brat.
Fan Xia pulled a long face and dragged over a plastic stool to sit down. He leaned his head against the metal doorframe, glancing sideways at Ning Xiaobei, who was flipping through a copy of 【Shanghai Fashion.】
Having just entered puberty, boys not only shot up in height, Fan Xia could clearly feel his arms getting thicker than before, and even his voice had turned a bit hoarse, like a duck voice. Because of that, his uncle had been making fun of him a lot lately.
But Ning Xiaobei didn’t seem to have reached that awkward stage yet.
He remembered that back in elementary school, Ning Xiaobei had been overly thin, aside from the baby fat on his cheeks, there was barely any flesh on him.
Now, not only had he grown tall like a willow branch, his build had become much more balanced. The boy’s figure was slender and long, his features delicate. His long eyelashes fell against the almost translucent skin beneath his eyes, like a small fan resting there. As the girls in their class put it, he looked so clean and refined, like a pretty Japanese boy straight out of a manga.
Thinking this, Fan Xia curled his lips.
Well, forget about me, but if Boss wore it… he might not even look worse than that girl Chang Leyun.
Ning Xiaobei had no idea what wild thoughts were running through his head. He pointed to the shops behind them that sold European-style fashion and Japanese boutique fashion, and said calmly, “If you just take a couple more steps back, you’ll understand. They’re not in a hurry, so why should we be?”
Those shops hadn’t even lifted their shutters yet.
Unlike old Beijingers, who care most about food, Shanghainese have always put clothing ahead of food. You could go a whole day without a bite, but you can’t exactly go out bare-bottomed.
Not only do people have to dress, but they have to dress well: men must have style, women must have presence. In cosmopolitan Shanghai, wherever you went, there were always sharp eyes judging you, and clothes were the basic entry ticket.
Grandma Ning had the most authority on this. Before liberation, she worked as a sales clerk at the Shimai Department Store on the main street, selling imported pens and luxury watches. Her eyes were like X-rays, able to see right through a person.
She wore a deep blue indanthrene cheongsam, stood with perfect poise behind the glass counter, and as men and women descended the escalator, she would lift an eyebrow lightly, and in an instant, her mind had already made its assessment.
“Summer is tricky, you could borrow something decent, but autumn and winter show the real skill. For both men and women, you start from the feet and work your way up. This is called, ‘from the feet to the head, elegance rises upward.’ Look at the shoes: fabric or leather? Are the leather shoes in style this year, or outdated from a decade ago? Check the shoe upper, check the sole’s wear. You can tell if the man is a teacher or an office worker at a glance.”
“In the 1940s, the most fashionable suits were cigarette-ash-colored wool, camel hair, English check, three-button coats with ties, silk handkerchiefs in the chest pocket, and a pocket watch tucked inside. I’d step out from behind the counter, help him take off the coat, guide him to sit on the sofa. If inside he wore a fine wool shirt with a silk tie and dark wool socks, any man who wore black shoes with white socks was a ‘suit bum’, clueless, and could be sent off immediately.”
“Women rarely came alone to buy pens or watches; they were usually wives or girlfriends…Zhang San wouldn’t come to my counter at all; they’d be on the first floor buying gold and clothes.”
When Grandma Ning said this, Fan Xia curiously asked what Zhang San6basically a placeholder name, like “John Doe” in English. It’s used when talking about some generic, hypothetical, or anonymous person. meant. Ning Xiaobei smiled and gently tugged his arm to signal him to be quiet.
“So, by looking at a woman’s clothes and accessories, you could tell a man’s wealth even more clearly. At that time, during the war, a pair of American glass silk stockings could cost a tael of gold. Only women with American soldiers as boyfriends or really wealthy ladies could afford them; ordinary office girls could never. Look at her cheongsam— satin, wool, all scented from inside out. Check rings, brooches. Pearls—round, large, lustrous. Diamonds—not just size, but brilliance: under the light, sparkling, breathtaking.”
“In winter, the most impressive were fur coats—fox, beaver, silver mink. In Shanghainese, ‘chu fengtou’ literally means ‘show off,’ but really it’s ‘sharpness.’ When I was young, I once saw Third Miss of the Xianshi Department Store in the bitter cold wearing a silver mouse hat, a white fox cape, a silver-gray beaver coat, the cheongsam beneath patterned heavy silk, her tiny handlike face wrapped in elegance, stepping lightly out of the car. Seeing her once, you’d never forget it.”
Even though times had changed, the city’s ‘people rely on their clothes’ mentality hadn’t.
Ning Jianguo’s dad, even in his older years, kept the crease in his trousers perfectly sharp. He didn’t iron them every day, of course, but he would carefully fold them before bed and press them under the bedding. Ning Xiaobei’s school pants were the same, with crisp, sharp creases.
This was the craftsmanship of Shanghainese living — a skill honed over a century in the big city, ingrained into the bones of its residents.
Just after lunch, sure enough, a steady stream of office workers, men and women, entered the Xiangyang Road market. Most of them paid little attention to the noisy stalls near the entrance, heading straight toward the row of higher-end shops where Ning Xiaobei and the others were.
“Miss, welcome, feel free to look around,”
Xiao Su didn’t rush at the customers, nor cling to them like a shadow, unlike some salesgirls at well-known cosmetic stores who can be downright annoying.
“That looks nice, very similar to the one I saw in a Japanese magazine a few months ago.”
The woman pointed at a suit on a mannequin.
Ning Xiaobei glanced at the light brown suit set. Sure enough, it closely resembled the small blazers worn by heroines in 1990s Japanese dramas. Unlike Western suits that were sharp and assertive, this one was neat yet gentle, exactly the style a Shanghai office lady would favor.
“Miss, you have great taste. These are all new pieces originally meant for export to Japan. Now they’re sold locally, and the prices are fair.”
Xiao Su said this with a bright smile.
The woman nodded, gave her measurements, and stepped into the fitting room to try it on.
“Not bad, not bad,”
She examined herself in the mirror, while her friends beside her whispered approval. She lowered her gaze slightly, and her eyes met Ning Xiaobei’s reflection.
He didn’t speak, just narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled.
A handsome young boy’s smile was the highest praise. The woman felt a little thrill, then turned back into the fitting room.
Fan Xia, seeing a sale about to close, could hardly contain his excitement, wishing she would come out immediately and pay.
Who knew that after trying on the outfit, the woman just said she needed more time to think and then left with her friends?
Fan Xia was dumbstruck. He couldn’t understand how a fish that had already bitten the hook could slip back into the pond.
“How could this happen… she clearly liked it. And she didn’t even haggle. Why didn’t she buy it?”
Fan Xia couldn’t let it go. Relying on the fact that he was small and dark-skinned, hard to notice, he secretly followed them, hoping to figure out their true intentions.
He watched as the group wandered around a few turns, then entered a boutique called 【Fashion Tokyo】 on the edge of the market, and never came out.
“They must’ve bought it there.”
Fan Xia slouched back, dejected, and sat across from Ning Xiaobei. “Their clothes are so pretty. The store’s decoration is way nicer than our tin shack, and they even have glass display windows.”
Although Uncle Zhao’s clothes were very nice too, there was no denying it, those others just had the edge.
“Don’t worry,” Ning Xiaobei said calmly. “They’ll be back soon.”
Ning Xiaobei finished flipping through the fashion magazine and switched to a copy of 【Rayli7Rayli (瑞丽) is a premier Chinese fashion media group established in 1995, renowned for popularizing “practical fashion” for young, urban women, catering to style trends with an international perspective.】, speaking in his usual unhurried way.
The two aunties from the shop next door, casually shelling sunflower seeds, exchanged surprised glances when they heard him.
Fan Xia, of course, didn’t believe it. He made a bet with Ning Xiaobei: if the girls came back to buy the outfit they had tried on, he would scrub their mats and mop the floors for two months. If they didn’t return, Ning Xiaobei would have to give him the special stamp album he had been collecting, no backing out.
Lately, Ning Xiaobei had been obsessed with collecting stamps. With plenty of pocket money to spare, he would occasionally buy full sheets of commemorative covers and first-day covers from the post office.
For someone like him, who had traveled back from the 5G world, letters, stamps, and pen pals represented a bygone era: a slower, more human-paced time. It wasn’t about future investment value; he simply enjoyed finding small, subtle details and letting his real-world self savor them later.
Fan Xia wasn’t interested in stamps at all; he was only interested in whatever Ning Xiaobei found fascinating. Comics, martial arts novels, TV dramas — they were nothing compared to Ning Xiaobei. Fan Xia happily studied whatever Ning Xiaobei studied, even if he didn’t personally care for it.
But this time, it looked like he was going to lose again.
Around the end of the company lunch break, the girl hurried back, asking Xiao Su to wrap up the outfit she had tried earlier. She didn’t haggle at all, paid immediately, and left.
What surprised Fan Xia even more was that she asked about their closing time, saying she would bring some friends after work to buy more clothes. Xiao Su, of course, agreed happily and gave her boss Zhao Jingwen’s business card, saying they could get a discount if they brought it later.
“Why would they do that? Didn’t they like the clothes at 【Fashion Tokyo】? Why come back and buy here instead?”
Fan Xia was completely baffled.
Ning Xiaobei didn’t explain; he just let Fan Xia guess.
It turned out that this kind of thing happened several times over the course of an afternoon.
Out of every seven or eight customers, three or four would inevitably wander into the shops at the back and then return to buy more clothes. Often, someone who planned to buy just one item would end up buying several before leaving satisfied.
“Could it be that 【Fashion Tokyo】 is our lucky god of wealth?”
“Idiot,” Ning Xiaobei said while licking his salty ice pop, rolling his eyes, “Sister Su already explained. We’re doing export turned domestic sales. These were originally made for Aunt Wang’s orders from Japan; we just removed the labels and sold them cheap.”
“But the boutique at the back is different. Their clothes either come straight from big Japanese department stores as brand-new items, or they copy the latest styles from Japanese magazines and have local tailors in Dongjiadu make them exactly the same. One piece there costs as much as three or five of ours here. If you had a little money, not a lot, but wanted to treat yourself and follow fashion, which would you pick?”
“Wow… Boss, how do you even know all this?”
Fan Xia had always known Ning Xiaobei was good at school, but he never realized he could talk business so fluently. He was in total awe.
Ning Xiaobei pointed at the piles of magazines in the store. “You walked around all those other shops, didn’t you notice that several of their clothes match the magazine exactly? Our clothes aren’t bad, but they’re always a few months, even half a year behind. For those chasing fashion who don’t lack money, spending extra for the newest styles is worth it. But for most ordinary office workers, three-month-old foreign trends arriving in Shanghai? Totally acceptable.”
“Truly, the young are formidable. Not only is Boss Zhao good at business himself, the little guy watching the store is sharp too,” the fashion godmother said admiringly.
After finishing their ice pops, the market slowly quieted down. Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia walked shoulder to shoulder, ready to explore every corner of the market.
They reached the street by the roadside and saw seven or eight buses parked outside. A group of men and women speaking foreign languages stepped off, pointing and gesturing toward the market’s signs.
“Why are there so many foreigners?”
Fan Xia’s eyes widened.
Under the blazing sun, groups of men and women—fat and thin, dark-haired and light-haired—chattered and shouted all at once, a complete mess. The men had cameras hanging around their necks, and the women wore colorful ribbons, a total jumble of noise.
“They’re foreign tourists!”
Ning Xiaobei said excitedly.
Right! By now, the Xiangyang Road clothing market was famous and had become a must-visit spot for many foreigners in Shanghai.
He remembered reading in the newspaper that in 2004, David Beckham’s wife Victoria had come here on her first trip to Shanghai. And the legendary Japanese pop queen Ayumi Hamasaki had also reportedly gone on a crazy shopping spree here.
Not that these stars came for the same reason as ordinary tourists, but for many foreigners, part of the draw was the high-quality knockoffs, and another big part was that the clothes here were really cheap compared to Europe.
As Grandma Ning would say: even in foreign lands there are penniless wannabes; not everyone’s rich.
So it wasn’t surprising that this market became one of the must-see spots for foreigners in Shanghai.
“Fan Xia! Go! Time to practice your English!”
Ning Xiaobei didn’t spare his brotherly feelings at all, slapping Fan Xia on the shoulder. “When they spread out into the market, go talk to them and bring them over to your uncle’s shop.”
“Seriously, boss… this is so embarrassing.”
Even though Fan Xia’s English had improved leaps and bounds from listening to 《Friends》, facing real-life foreigners still made him nervous, let alone approaching them to drum up business.
The two of them were chattering away when a white middle-aged woman looked their way. Seeing the two young Eastern-looking boys, she smiled broadly, waved at them, and even blew a flying kiss, which startled Fan Xia.
“Fo-foreign women… so enthusiastic…”
Fan Xia was instantly overwhelmed. Watching it on TV was one thing, but seeing it in real life was a whole different story.
“Don’t worry. Once you lose face a few times, and then you won’t be scared anymore.”
Ning Xiaobei laughed heartily at his reaction.
“Wait… that woman speaking Japanese…”
Just as Ning Xiaobei gently nudged Fan Xia to greet the foreign lady, a figure caught his eye.
A middle-aged woman in a T-shirt, holding a small flag, was leading a group of more than twenty Japanese tourists, passing right in front of them.
“Isn’t that Ding Zheyang’s mom?”
Ning Xiaobei pointed at her back.
After all, in the real world, he had known Ding Zheyang as a classmate for years and had seen his mother a few times. Ding Zheyang resembled his mother quite a bit, they were both fair-skinned and delicate-looking.
Fan Xia hurried a few steps closer to get a better look. Sure enough, the woman speaking Japanese really was Ding Zheyang’s mom.
“Wow, impressive… so Four-Eyed’s mom is actually a tour guide… Moshi moshi, konnichiwa, si la si la…”
Fan Xia laughed as he tried to mimic her Japanese.
‘His parents… are gone. Back in 2011, during the earthquake in Japan. At that time, the whole family was there. In the end, he was the only one who survived…”
The words of the economic crimes investigator handling Ding Zheyang’s case outside the detention center flashed vividly in Ning Xiaobei’s mind.
………………
Author’s Note:
The Xiangyang Road clothing market was mostly demolished around 2006. After that, only Qipu Road remained.
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