"Too many shops selling knockoffs these days. I can't find anything suitable to wear." Jiang Han was having a hard time.
With magic in this era, counterfeiting had become even easier.
Sometimes, fake goods were even better quality than the real thing. The real ones relied on genuine craftsmanship, while the fakes sometimes used spells with exaggerated claims—and even added a little dragon's blood.
The general consensus across the country was that if you couldn't get something right, just add a little dragon's blood. It would turn out fine in the end.
Even knockoffs were no exception.
But why were branded goods called branded goods? Because you wore them to show off the brand. Quality had something to do with it, but not that much.
After accompanying Jiang Han on a bit of shopping, Cen Jing made a suggestion:
"I think we could check out the doll shops. Well, more precisely, the dolls' clothes are all imports. The domestic industry hasn't caught up yet. Most are Dutch, with fewer British ones. American goods can only be sold in Southeast Asia."
Hmm... Miss Cen, you're taking another jab at the Lighthouse. But this is kind of interesting. It seems like the clothes at doll shops are mostly brand-name... Jiang Han nodded, convinced.
"Then let's go take a look."
Hopefully, they could find clothes soon, then go to the competition with Miss Cen, grab a sumptuous dinner afterward, and finally head home to exercise and read... Jiang Han had the whole itinerary planned.
Once they'd settled on their destination, the two strolled leisurely down the street, admiring the steep, beautiful canyon and chatting as they went.
Before long, they reached the section of the mall where dolls were sold.
Unlike the doll shops Jiang Han had seen before, the stores in this area were all open-air. Groups of witches had set up distinctive or pretty stalls, displaying their dolls for sale and showing them off.
One had laid out a carpet and made a little garden.
Another had pushed over a tree and hollowed it out to make shelves.
Yet another was sitting in a carriage with a cabinet built inside to display dolls.
The witches also sold assorted odds and ends, like violins one-tenth the size that played themselves, passionate oil paintings, rock-band posters that had been common in the '90s—with the sound muted—and records and gramophones from the Literary and Art Troupe.
The one thing this place had in common with the commercial street was the patrol witches, dressed in earthy green witch cloaks and carrying rifles that were more symbolic than practical. You could also call them city inspectors. Adding a touch of local flavor to the fantastical district, these patrol witches looked even more serious than the dolls. They marched about with their rifles slung over their shoulders, but whenever someone asked them a question, they suddenly sprang to life and saluted.
"Hello, comrade! How can I help you?"
Then they would proceed to resolve the issue.
Their uniforms were a little dowdy, but they still looked cool. Jiang Han watched them with a hint of envy and wondered if she should sign up. But when she saw that the patrol witches were all about a head taller than she was, she lowered her head and let out a deep sigh.
Perhaps because there were so many international visitors at the mall—and because it was where most foreign witches stayed—the patrol witches assigned here were all tall. Even if they weren't beautiful, they were a cut above the average in looks. It seemed they'd done a good job of keeping up appearances.
Cen Jing seemed to have visited a few times before and familiarized Jiang Han with Doll Street as they walked.
It opened Jiang Han's eyes.
Doll Street had its own social customs and peculiar values.
Shop-owning witches and stallholders had a custom of giving one another Witch Eggs. It signified years of accumulated affection and a certain unusual sentiment.
For example, a married witch might have feelings for another witch.
Let's say those feelings led not to cheating or an affair, but to a purely platonic romance. In that case, the Witch Eggs they gave each other meant:
"I can't marry you, so let my daughter take my place."
Whether the witch who hatched from the egg eighteen years later would marry or not was beside the point. The sentiment had been conveyed.
Witches born under such circumstances sometimes called themselves "daughters of dolls," because they didn't know who their paternal mother or maternal mother was...
Another thing was that when doing business on Doll Street, people generally didn't say, "How much to buy?" or "How much to sell?" Instead, they wrote the price down on a slip of paper and handed it over with great formality. If the price was right, the other party would buy or sell. If not, they'd pass the slip back, smile, and exchange a few pleasantries until someone made another offer—or one of them walked away.
There was also a custom of referring to dolls as "ladies."
Before 1968, dollmaker witches usually called the dolls they cherished their "daughters." But after the 1980s began, some witches who'd bought dolls they loved started doing unspeakable things to them. Calling them "daughters" then seemed extremely perverted. After a quiet, uneventful struggle of one kind or another, witches' pet name for dolls changed to "ladies."
Jiang Han listened in stunned silence, the smile on her face growing stiff.
Sometimes, I feel like I've seen through the witch race, and that they've reached the absolute lowest possible limit.
The thought came to her at just the right moment. Jiang Han quietly exhaled, then, while Cen Jing wasn't looking, rubbed her cheeks vigorously to loosen her stiff face and put that earnest, obedient smile back on.
They found a carriage bearing the Elsa Mason label, and Jiang Han followed Cen Jing over to its display window.
Inside were dolls that looked beautiful and dolls with an air of clean simplicity.
After looking for a little while, they were greeted with a warm welcome. The owner climbed down from the carriage. She was a young woman wearing a wide-brimmed lady's hat, a sea-blue short robe, and snow-white shorts and boots. A wand as long as a sword hung at her waist, with a hilt fashioned to resemble a sword's.
She was beautiful and dashing.
"Good afternoon, ladies. Is there anything I can help you with? Or perhaps you'd like a skilled magician to perform some foreign magic?" She glanced only briefly at their faces before giving a slight bow and asking with a smile.
Cen Jing returned her smile with a graceful curtsy and said expectantly:
"My friend and I have been shopping for a long time, trying to find clothes we like..."
Although it had nothing to do with dolls, the young lady listened patiently.
Cen Jing continued, "...I was wondering if a witch skilled in doll magic, with a refined eye for fashion, might be able to help us."
"Mm-hmm, I understand. It really can be a little difficult these days to find suitable clothes that you can wear in public without people laughing at you." The dollmaker smiled. "Advice is hard to give, but help is easy. Here's a suggestion: why not have your... lovely friend try on some of my clothes? They're made for dolls, but they're top-of-the-line brands."
That was exactly what Jiang Han had been waiting to hear... She saw Cen Jing quickly agree.
The lady invited them both into the carriage and added with a touch of modesty:
"Please, come in. As a down-on-her-luck artist, I have to change, wash up, and occasionally cook myself a meal in the carriage."
After taking off their shoes, Jiang Han and Cen Jing entered the carriage together.
It looked small on the outside, but the interior was spacious—about seventy square meters.
There was a large bath and massage pool that could fit four people at once, along with a power-generating pool filled with several hundred Witch Eggs.
There were bookshelves, a desk, a dressing room, and seven wooden boxes hanging halfway up the walls.
There was even a cozy little lounge, with a very low, long sofa. You had to stretch your legs out and rest them on the cushions, but it was casual and comfortable. On the wall across from the lounge were spell-plants enclosed in glass, along with two framed sayings.
[A Humble Abode]
[Only Virtue Makes It Fragrant]
...She'd taken pretentiousness to a whole new level... Jiang Han was impressed. While she was still marveling at it, the witch had already taken a set of measuring tools out of a box.
"First of all, my lovely young lady, I need to measure your height..."
Height? Measure her height? Jiang Han looked thoroughly displeased.
...Could I just skip buying clothes?
Before you continue