The world of film and television begins with Hikaru no Go

Di Renjie walked east along the main street at a leisurely pace, looking left and right, like an old man visiting the capital for the first time.

He hadn't been to the capital for a long time, but he still remembered the route very clearly.

You don't need to think about which alley leads to which neighborhood, or how many years a shop has been open; your feet will know where to go on their own.

The sun was already high in the sky, shining brightly on the street.

The peddler carrying his wares on a shoulder pole shouted his wares, puffs of steam rose from the steamed bun stall, and the clanging sounds of the blacksmith's shop echoed from the alley entrance.

Zhang Rui followed beside him, wondering what he was up to.

After walking for a while, Di Renjie suddenly stopped, stood in front of a cloth shop, looked up at the signboard, and went inside.

The fabric shop wasn't big, but it was neatly organized.

Various colored silks, from deep crimson to light moon white, hung on the wall, row upon row, their sheen soft and lustrous.

There were linen cloths on the shelf, both coarse and fine.

Several bolts of newly arrived fabric were placed on the counter, the scraps still tied with red thread.

There was a faint smell of washing in the air, mixed with the fresh scent of new cloth.

The shopkeeper greeted him with a smile: "Sir, are you looking at some fabric?"

Di Renjie nodded, walked to the shelf, and reached out to touch a piece of fine indigo linen.

My fingers slowly ran across the fabric, feeling the texture.

Then he picked up a moon-white piece of jade next to him and compared it to the indigo blue one.

Zhang Rui glanced at the two bolts of cloth, then at Di Renjie.

"grown ups."

Di Renjie did not look up; his finger continued to slowly trace his name on the indigo cloth.

"You don't need to make me any more clothes; the ones you made last time fit perfectly."

Judge Di held up the moon-white piece of cloth and examined its texture against the light from the doorway.

The light shone through the fabric, illuminating the fabric threads clearly.

I looked at it for a while, then put it down.

"Last time it was Di Chun who handled it, and I didn't have time to choose." Di Gong turned his head and glanced at Zhang Rui. "This time I have the time."

After saying that, he went to look at the indigo cloth and laid the two pieces of cloth side by side.

One is deep, the other is shallow, and they are next to each other.

Which one is better?

"...What?"

"The color." Di Renjie tapped the edge of the indigo color with his finger, then tapped the edge of the off-white color. "Which one is better?"

Zhang Rui opened his mouth, looking at Di Renjie's profile. The old man's gaze fell on the two bolts of cloth, his hand resting on the edge of the cloth, waiting.

"...Indigo. Durable."

Di Renjie's lips twitched slightly. This child, he had never seen his clothes dirty.

After thinking for a moment, he handed the moon-white horse to the shopkeeper, but then picked up the indigo-blue one as well and handed it over as well.

The shopkeeper took the two bolts of cloth, held them in his arms, looked at Di Renjie, and then looked at the doorway.

He had noticed the old man talking to thin air and felt a little uneasy.

But when you run a business, you encounter all kinds of customers, so you can't ask too many questions. You just smile and wait for instructions.

Di Renjie then pointed to a slightly sturdier horse next to him: "Take a look at this one too."

The shopkeeper placed the two bolts of cloth he was carrying on the counter, took down the thicker one, and unfolded a corner to show Di Renjie: "This is silk cloth from Yanzhou, thicker than fine linen, perfect for making undergarments. It's cool in the mornings and evenings, a single layer won't be enough."

Judge Di touched it, nodded, and kept the horse as well.

The shopkeeper carried the three bolts of cloth to the counter and measured them one by one with a ruler.

Halfway through the measurement, I looked up and couldn't help but ask, "Sir, who are you making this for?"

Di Renjie's hand paused on the counter for a moment.

"Made for my grandson."

His tone was flat, like a perfectly ordinary explanation.

The shopkeeper said "Oh," and a look of realization appeared on his face.

So it was for his grandson; no wonder he's so concerned about it.

He lowered his head and continued measuring the fabric, the scissors making a soft swishing sound as they moved across the fabric.

When Zhang Rui stood to the side and heard the words "made for his grandson," his heart felt as if it had been gently bumped by something.

Those words that I originally wanted to say no suddenly became impossible to utter.

The shopkeeper cut the cloth—one bolt of indigo fine linen, one bolt of moon-white fine linen, and one bolt of Yanzhou silk—and tied them together with hemp rope before handing them over.

Di Gong paid the money, tucked the cloth under his arm, and left the shop.

The sun was already high in the sky, and the streets were brightly lit.

Di Renjie walked ahead, carrying a cloth in three colors: indigo, moon white, and ochre, which swayed gently as he walked.

Zhang Rui followed behind him, looking at the bundle of cloth, and then at Di Gong's back.

His lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

After buying the cloth, Di Renjie went to the clothing store next door.

The clothing store is smaller than the fabric store, with a narrow storefront, but it is quite spacious inside.

Several finished sample garments hung on the wall, and needles, thread, scissors, measuring tape, and a well-worn notebook were laid out on the counter.

A thin, middle-aged shopkeeper was tidying up a stack of cut garment pieces. When he saw Di Renjie enter, he patted the loose threads off his hands and came forward to greet him.

"Sir, would you like some clothes made?"

"Make two sets, and be quick."

"Is the old gentleman making it for himself?" The shopkeeper looked behind him; the doorway was empty. "The person being measured must be present."

Di Gong placed the cloth on the counter, walked up to the shopkeeper, turned around, and faced away from him.

"Measure mine first."

The shopkeeper was taken aback for a moment, but didn't ask any further questions.

Pick up the measuring tape, have Di Renjie stand up straight, and start measuring from his shoulder.

The measuring tape is pulled from the acromion to the acromion, then down the arm, stopping at the wrist.

They measured the shoulder width, then the arm length; the chest circumference, then the waist circumference, and finally the garment length.

He recited numbers aloud and wrote them down in a notebook, one by one.

I'm done writing. I'll put the measuring tape away.

"Sir, your measurements have been taken down. Are both suits yours?"

"It wasn't made for me, it was made for my grandson. His shoulders are an inch and a half narrower than mine."

The shopkeeper stopped writing, looked up, and glanced at Judge Di.

"His arms are two inches shorter, his waist is three inches thinner, and his height is about my height." Di Renjie raised his hand and gestured to his brow bone.

The shopkeeper opened his mouth, then subconsciously glanced at the doorway again.

He glanced at the numbers recorded in the book, and then at the height that Di Renjie had gestured.

How much narrower the shoulders, how much shorter the arms, how much thinner the waist—one and a half inches, two inches, three inches—it's all crystal clear.

This doesn't seem like an estimate.

The estimate wouldn't be that accurate, nor would it be that quick.

It's like it was already in my head, I didn't need to think about it.

The shopkeeper dipped the tip of his pen in ink, lowered his head, and wrote down the numbers one by one in his notebook.

After writing the shoulder width, write the arm length; after writing the waist circumference, write the garment length.

Judge Di pointed to the cloth on the counter: "Make a round-necked robe out of this indigo cloth. Make the same one out of this moon-white cloth. Make a lining garment out of this thick silk cloth from Yanzhou, to wear in the mornings and evenings when it gets cooler."

The shopkeeper unfolded the cloth, examined it, nodded, and then asked, "The neckline?"

"A round neck is fine, and the cuffs should be tapered a bit; he doesn't like wide sleeves."

Zhang Rui stood to the side, never having told Di Gong that he didn't like wide sleeves.

But it's not quite the habit, and I always subconsciously roll up my sleeves.

It's likely that Judge Di saw it and remembered it.