Chapter 592: Chapter 592

Jiang Xiaoxiao returned to school.

"Wang Huan, Zhang Xun, I need your help with something."

Jiang Xiaoxiao thought it would be best if her elder sister started with high-end clothing.

The ordinary stuff isn’t forbidden for her, but Jiang Xiaoxiao wanted to introduce Jiang Xin to a different social circle that calls for high-end fashion from the start.

This would also enhance her skills over time.

The vision is different, the demands are different, and realizing one’s personal value feels different too.

The people she would interact with would also be quite distinct.

The clothes that lower-end ordinary folk wear can certainly be made by hired hands when the business expands later on.

After all, Jiang Xiaoxiao’s vision spans decades; she believes if she’s starting a business alone, she should naturally consider the future, not just stick to the present as a poor, rigid tailor.

Once the clothing factory goes into mass production, these little tailors will either starve or have to move to assembly lines or take the designer and high-end tailoring route.

Jiang Xiaoxiao is preparing a good start for Jiang Xin in advance.

Wang Huan and Zhang Xun belong to established circles.

Their families lack for nothing, and they hold high social status, with very keen and strict demands on their attire.

"Doctor Jiang, you’re never one to ask for favors, yet here you are asking for our help. Go on, go on, just for opening your mouth today, we’ll do what you need, even if it seems impossible, we’ll make it possible. Otherwise wouldn’t we spoil this rare ask from Doctor Jiang?"

Wang Huan always adopts a rogue-like air.

Zhang Xun was surprised too, "Are you facing some family trouble? Doctor Song can’t help you? Then in my opinion, you should ditch Doctor Song. Maybe consider us a bit; we have good family backgrounds and don’t mind if you’re divorced with a child.

Don’t worry, we treat Little Tang Yuan as our own; you just pick one of us."

His quip was met with a glare colder than minus three hundred degrees.

"Scared of you, scared of you, Doctor Song, your eyes are like scalpels, slicing me up. How dare I vie for your woman! Know she’s your wife, but she’s the one asking a favor here; I’m just feeling bad for you losing face."

Behind Zhang Xun’s serious demeanor was a cheeky jest.

"Alright, alright, no more jokes, I know we’re about to have the end-of-year school celebration. This year we’ll soon be juniors; I heard you all plan to dress up impressively for the event.

My older sister is a tailor, and I’d like to introduce her to you. Keeping business within the family, I can’t guarantee my sister’s craftsmanship will satisfy you, but you should try having a set of clothes made first, and if it seems fine, then go with my sister."

Jiang Xiaoxiao began to zealously promote.

Wang Huan rolled his eyes, "Doctor Jiang, you’re something else! Alright, alright, since it’s your sister, I’ll do it. I happen to need a suit for an awards ceremony. If it turns out poorly! Humph... Doctor Jiang, you’ll owe me big."

"Got it, Wang Huan, and if it’s well made, I’ll tell you, you’d owe me a big favor too. Then you’d better help promote my sister,"

Jiang Xiaoxiao nodded and bowed like a flunky.

Drawing laughter from many.

So from that day on, Jiang Xiaoxiao brought a crowd home after school daily.

To have Jiang Xin take their measurements.

Of course, they brought their own fabric; that’s how modern tailoring ought to be.

To broaden her older sister’s horizons, Jiang Xiaoxiao explained modern popular clothing styles to her.

Thus, her sister could apply them, even sketching simple designs.

Jiang Xin suddenly found herself overwhelmingly busy, like a spinning top.

After going to work during the day, she would lock herself in her room at night, cutting and sewing clothes.

The fabrics were premium material that Jiang Xin feared damaging inadvertently.

Just for the sake of Jiang Xiaoxiao and Jiang Yue, she was determined to finish these clothes well; failing them would be letting down her sisters’ earnest assistance.

Qin Dazhuang’s days had recently been less than favorable; working at the factory, many people now directed their attention to him because of the divorce.

The little money he earned could hardly last two days before it was lost gambling.

After his wife and children left, the house was empty and cold.

Mother Qin went back to her hometown saying she had to find a wife for him, leaving the house unattended.

Qin Dazhuang didn’t play cards today, yet he owes people three or four hundred bucks and hasn’t the money to repay.

He would have no face to meet people outside, with nothing in his pocket, and now at the start of the month, he was utterly broke.

Returning home, rummaging through drawers, he found only a handful of noodles.

Simple boiled noodles; only some salt was found, nothing else, and thus he had a tasteless meal and collapsed onto the bed.

Qin Dazhuang felt desolate; it wouldn’t have mattered before.

With no one to control him now, he could do as he pleased, yet when he calmed down alone, he felt pitiful.

Thinking of the past when he thought little of his daughters as burdens.

Yet every time his daughters saw him, they ran over laughing, eager to play with their father.

Jiang Xin would prepare delicious meals waiting for him to come home, washed his clothes, tidied everything.

But when did these days turn sour?

Now he’s a lone soul.

No food to eat, no wife nor children.

He couldn’t fathom why he’d be so enthralled with gambling, clearly not a person of that nature, mocking those people before, thinking they had no ambition, only playing cards without skills, gambling all they had.

He once regarded them as the most disgraceful people.

But ultimately, he became one of them.

Though not ruined completely, he too had no home, it shattered due to his gambling.

He had considered quitting; he vowed during the divorce to change, to show Jiang Xin a different man, but he didn’t know why he couldn’t steer away on seeing others play cards.

The obsession felt like magic in his mind, as if an itch that his heart constantly chased.

Qin Dazhu lay in bed, covering his face, crying. Men shouldn’t cry; even bleeding they shouldn’t shed tears, yet he was deeply hurt, too saddened.

Once he too lived like a man, having a happy family, a gentle wife, joyful children, and now? He had nothing.

Only debt, only this cold house, only ridicule and mockery; no one saw him anymore.

Qin Dazhuang thought, what’s the meaning of living?