After saying goodbye to Feng Xinyue, Lu Zhao opened the map and searched the former site of Baili Dance Hall: it was only less than two kilometers away from Fourth Street, and has now been converted into a shopping center called Times Department Store.

"arrive."

Lu Zhao stood at the entrance of the shopping center, with shops on both sides of the street. Looking around, there were stores that were not long in the past. It was only nine o'clock in the morning, and because it was too early, the shopping center had not opened yet.

The sunlight during the day was a bit dazzling. Lu Zhao took more than half an hour to walk over. At this moment, the T-shirt on his back was completely soaked in sweat. He pulled the collar and slapped the wind.

"Thank you for your hard work, you can actually take the bus." Meng Qitong's voice was very soft, as if someone was muttering in her ears.

"It's okay, just walk a few more steps to exercise. How about it? Are there any familiar places nearby? Can you remember anything?" Lu Zhao wiped the sweat on his forehead and asked.

The reason I chose to hike was to let Meng Qitong have a good look at the street scenery around her.

"Although this place has changed a lot, it still gives me a familiar and intimate feeling... When I am near the dance hall, it is bright and wine at night, and it is very lively. I remember there are tea shops, watch shops, jewelry shops, and yes, there is also a very small clothing shop, which is my favorite place to visit. There is a tailor named Li, who has very good skills. My clothes are basically customized from him."

After hearing Meng Qitong say this, Lu Zhao became excited: It seems that this trip was really right.

"What about the dance hall? Can you still remember who you have contacted before?" he asked hurriedly.

"...No, I can't remember anyone except your grandfather. I only remember some irrelevant trivial matters now... Why is this happening?" Unlike Lu Zhao, Meng Qitong was a little disappointed.

"It's okay, we can take it slowly. It's already great if you can remember the past. Maybe, memory will recover little by little over time?"

Lu Zhao patiently comforted the other party. When he passed by an alley, his gaze was immediately attracted by an inconspicuous small shop.

An old sign hanging on the front of the shop door, with the words [Li Jinghui Preparatory Clothing Shop] written on it.

The dirty glass door is covered with faded advertising words. The shop itself does not occupy any prominent position, and the area is about thirty square meters. If one is not careful, he will pass by.

Lu Zhao pushed open the glass door and walked into the store.

The gray cement floor under my feet was not even covered with ceramic tiles, and the air was filled with a faint smell of fabric.

The fans on the ceiling creaked, and the light tubes on the wall had long been aged. The white walls around it were slightly yellow, the store environment was very messy, with stacked clothes and fabrics everywhere, some blue and black silk threads were placed on the cartons, and many classic skirts and suits were hung on the walls.

A wooden ruler and large black scissors on the table reminded Lu Zhao of his childhood: when he was a child, his mother had made clothes for him and his brother like this. So far, a dusty sewing machine is placed in the warehouse at home.

A middle-aged man, who was about the early thirties, was wearing an apron and skillfully stepped on the machine. He pushed the fabric in his hand, and the threaded bobbin turned, and the needle quickly left a series of pins on the fabric.

Hearing something outside the door, the man raised his head and asked in Cantonese, "Sir, Miss, do you want to change your clothes?"

Lu Zhao was shocked and glanced at his side immediately. Only then did he realize that Meng Qitong had actually appeared on the voluntary.

At this moment, the other party was thinking about stroking the fabric hanging by the wall, gently flipping the clothes hanging on the shelf, as if he was trapped in some kind of memory.

On the contrary, Lu Zhao's first reaction was to look out of the shop and check if there was any surveillance monitor so as not to scare the others by the way.

"Who is Li Jinghui?" Meng Qitong walked to a black and white photo hanging by the wall and stopped.

Lu Zhao hurried over. The photo on the wall was taken in the 1970s. The person in the photo was a middle-aged man who was about forty years old. He wore a black round mirror, a soft ruler around his neck, a meticulous hairstyle, and stood in front of the store with his hands behind his back, giving people a gentle and bookish atmosphere.

"It's my grandfather." The tailor in front of the sewing machine put down the work in his hand and walked over. Looking closely, the other person's eyebrows and eyes were indeed somewhat similar to those in the photo.

Meng Qitong did not speak, but stared at the tailor in front of her. Fearing that the atmosphere would become awkward, Lu Zhao quickly interrupted and asked the other party: "Your shop looks like a long history, it should be a long time, right?"

"It's been more than fifty years since my grandfather passed on to the present day."

The tailor sighed a little: "In the 1960s, our industry was once in its prime. It was a fashionable and enviable thing to pull up a piece of quorian cloth and go to the tailor shop to find a master to make a new dress. But with the development of the economy and the changing times, fewer and fewer people would go to the store to make clothes with fabrics, and the current tailor shop is almost gone."

The tailor smiled bitterly and touched the fabric on the table: "I have learned a good craft, and now I can only do the cutting edges and modify the scraps of clothes. It's not easy to do in this industry now. Fortunately, there are still some old customers who are willing to take care of their business and can barely make a living."

"Oh, what a pity. The clothes in your store are all exquisitely made, not inferior to the haute couture of today's brand stores."

As Lu Zhao said, he glanced at Meng Qitong secretly, followed the other person's gaze and found that she was staring at a dummy model displayed in the window in a trance.

The model was wearing a light and plain cheongsam: daisy-shaped patterns embroidered on it, with plain white edges locked at the collar, cuffs and skirt hem. The hem of the cheongsam was slightly slit, just right, using Western-style cutting and elements, but it did not lose the traditional oriental classical charm. At first glance, it made people unable to see them.

"Is this the clothes you made? So beautiful." Lu Zhao couldn't help but sigh.

"Did you misunderstand that? It was left by my grandfather. Over the years, many customers who have come here have expressed their willingness to buy it at a high price, but I have rejected it. Every piece of clothing here is tailor-made, and this piece has its own belonging. This was made by my grandfather before for a customer, but she has never come back to pick it up for so many years."

The tailor looked at the photos on the wall and recalled the past: "In the past, there were many tailor shops on the entire street, and many people made clothes. But my grandfather's craftsmanship was recognized as the best. At that time, even the most beautiful dancer in the nearby Belle Dance Hall would come to him to make clothes. Speaking of Belle Dance Hall, it was well-known in the 1960s..."

"Wait a minute, do you know the name of that dancer?!" Before the tailor finished speaking, he was interrupted excitedly by Lu Zhao.

Perhaps because she realized that she was a little out of control, Lu Zhao thought about it and pointed at Meng Qitong beside her and said, "My friend... um, grandma, I used to work in Belle Dance Hall. But one day, her grandma disappeared for no reason and has never been heard from for so many years. We visited this time to inquire about what happened back then and see if we could find some clues."

"Little girl, is your grandmother called Qi Meng?" Hearing Lu Zhao say this, the tailor suddenly became uneasy.

He carefully looked at the cheongsam he was wearing, and then he realized that the clothes were indeed from his grandfather.

When Meng Qitong heard the other party mention her name, she immediately withdrew her gaze and nodded calmly.

"Yes, Qimeng was her grandmother's stage name back then. Why, do you know about Qimeng?!" Lu Zhao widened his eyes, but he didn't expect that this time he would find the clue by accident.

"There is such a coincidence..."

The tailor sighed and sighed continuously: "It's a pity that my grandfather passed away two years ago. If he was alive, he would be very happy to know about this..."
Chapter completed!