Surely, as she looked at herself in the mirror from both sides, she always felt like something was missing.
"You feel like something’s missing, don’t you?" she asked Zhang Lulu beside her.
Zhang Lulu tilted her head, sizing her up for quite some time. She too felt something was off, but like Mrs. Song, she really couldn’t tell what was missing.
At that moment, the door opened again, and Qin Xiangnuan walked in from outside. She placed the bag she was carrying on the ground, which contained all the clothes that had just been finished. She immediately noticed Mrs. Song trying on clothes and, without a second thought, picked up a white belt from the rack nearby and walked over.
"Try this," she said as she unfolded the belt and fastened it around Mrs. Song’s waist, then loosened it a bit without making it too tight.
Mrs. Song’s eyes lit up. Indeed, with the belt fastened, it was like the cherry on top, instantly elevating the outfit to a whole new level of sophistication.
"That’s a great match," Mrs. Song was very pleased. She turned around to see a young girl standing there, beaming with a youthful tranquility. She wore a simple short-sleeve blouse, with a few delicate flowers embroidered along the neckline – simplistic yet elegant. Below, she donned a short blue skirt and on her feet were thin high heels that weren’t very tall but flattering enough to her stature. Although not very tall, the girl had an excellent figure with long legs and full bust, and the short skirt she wore was especially fitting. Nowadays, not many women dared to dress , but she did so without being tacky. Paired with her blouse, it was the epitome of a successful woman, and Mrs. Song instantly took a liking to the young girl in front of her. Perhaps this was what people referred to as love at first sight – when one glance is all it takes to feel comfortable.
"If you’re happy, that’s great," Qin Xiangnuan nodded to Mrs. Song, then continued to take clothes out of the bag, hanging them up one by one.
"Is she also an employee of your store?" Mrs. Song continued to look at herself in the mirror. It was more of an offhand question, as she had visited a few times before and had never seen such a staff member at Cafe. She must be new. But that outfit did match really well.
"She’s our boss," Zhang Lulu couldn’t help but puff out her chest. Every time she mentioned the word "boss," she genuinely admired her. Being able to open such a large store truly made the boss stand out.
The boss? Mrs. Song was startled. So young and yet the boss? She had assumed that the owner of the Cafe women’s clothing store would be around her age. It turned out to be a young lady, possibly even younger than her daughter-in-law. She had heard that all the clothes here were personally designed by the owner, and many parts required hand-sewing, including the embroidery - it was simply incredible.
The Cafe’s fabled young owner was indeed a young lady.
No, she needed to take a moment to ponder and adjust to this.
Now she truly regretted it. How could she have let her son marry such a daughter-in-law, who had nothing to offer except a passable face? If today’s Cafe owner had been her daughter-in-law, how wonderful that would have been. She wouldn’t care about looks; a good character was enough, as long as she was self-reliant. She didn’t demand that a woman earn a lot of money; she just knew that having her own career was very important for a woman’s self-cultivation. Broaden one’s horizons, and naturally, their view of everything changes.
Qin Xiangnuan hung each piece of clothing meticulously. In fact, she did not recognize Mrs. Song. In her past life, she had never even stepped foot into the Song family’s house, so how could she have met Song Wang’s mother? Besides, Mrs. Song had a low opinion of Qin Guohua and Hu Li, though Qin Xiangmei’s good looks had indeed given her much face. Despite not achieving much, having a face that could rival a celebrity, presented well in public – it was unknown if she would remain so well-regarded in this life.
Mrs. Song paid for the clothing, 489 yuan, handing over the cash directly. Regular customers knew that Cafe never bargained, nor did they offer discounts usually; exceptions included new arrivals, seasonal changes, and during festivals, with discounts typically ranging from 10 to 30 percent, sometimes even 50 percent during Mid-Autumn Festival, National Day, and end of the year when the discounts were significant.
This business model was indeed a novel approach domestically. Bargaining often left buyers feeling ripped-off regardless of the price paid. Whether the seller made a profit or a loss, the customer always felt a sting parting with their money. Even over just one yuan more, it would bother them that others might have paid less for the same item.
But this kind of discounting was different; everyone paid the same – no one paid more or less than another. It’s just about timing; you save more if you catch a larger discount, and less if you don’t.
That’s why Cafe’s clothing was so appealing, particularly to those who weren’t concerned about spending; wearing Cafe’s clothes was an indulgence, a status symbol.
Mrs. Song, having spent a handsome sum on a piece of clothing, was in an excellent mood as she returned home. Even the sight of the lazy Qin Xiangmei couldn’t dampen her spirits. Mr. Song was right; she was only making her son miserable with her constant arguments with Qin Xiangmei. It was better out of sight, out of mind; let them be as they will.
The more Mrs. Song found Qin Xiangmei irritating, the stranger she felt when thinking of the well-dressed, money-making owner of Cafe.
Qin Xiangmei had thought her mother-in-law was bound to find fault with her again, but to her surprise, Mrs. Song paid her no mind, simply adjusting her Cafe dress in the mirror. Their distinctive Café clothing was easy to recognize and stood out for its great fit, naturally because Mrs. Song was certainly the kind of consumer for Café’s boutique – she would never wear anything cheap, badly designed, or poorly made. Plainly put, she always had plenty of money to spare.
Despite such wealth, she was quite tight-fisted.
Qin Xiangmei pouted. Every month she spent Song Wang’s salary, and he didn’t make much. After giving some to her family and spending a bit herself, there wasn’t much left.