I got out of the airport and flagged down a taxi.
On the road, the driver talked my ear off.
Finally, after what seemed like an endless chatter, he drove into my homeland, Jingdezhen. It was a small town that's famous for its porcelain.
I stood out like a sore thumb as I walked amidst the crowd.
It was ironic, really, considering that everyone else was dressed casually while I was in a well-ironed suit.
It was custom-made without a brand name.
An 'L' was sewn on the corner of a sleeve, however, since I designed it myself.
Nine years ago, on Savile Row Street, I was lucky enough to become a recipient of Mister Bailey’s handed-down teachings.
I learned from him for eight whole years and brought the art of tailoring back to China.
Looking back, I have no idea how I had managed to persevere for that long.
In the day, I made suits for famous people all over the world, and at night, I stayed up late to polish my English.
