After nine in the morning, the young women and men of the Chlitina beauty salon always gather on the open space in front of the shop, stand at attention in neat rows, and shout slogans: "The customer is God!" "I'm great, I can do it!" The scene sometimes draws a few passersby to stop and watch. Maybe aware that it's a bit silly, or maybe just shy, the second girl from the right often breaks off halfway, covers her mouth, and giggles. Big bright eyes, faint dimples, jet-black hair, fair skin, her round face cupped in her hands as if she could conjure a flower at any moment.

Compared with Chlitina's energy, the traditional Chinese medicine acupuncture clinic next door is much more subdued. It's also a few young people, dressed in yellow with cloth shoes, looking just like the pharmacy assistants in a period drama, which actually suits the clinic's vibe. The outfits catch people's eye, and cyclists passing by and people at the bus stop often take a second look out of curiosity. The young woman leading them doesn't care about any of that. Calm and focused, she meticulously leads everyone through health exercises while reciting unfamiliar lines of classical Chinese.

The Milton hair salon next to the clinic rarely comes outside for these routines, but you can't ignore it, because the shop always plays loud music: hits like "Little Apple" and "The Most Dazzling Folk Style," and now and then Hong Kong oldies from the '80s and '90s. When the beat is just right, I sometimes hum along.

As April approaches, the weather warms up and Hangzhou is breathtakingly beautiful. Every day, Er Xiao walks this road both happy and wistful, thinking to himself: the flowers on Fengtan Road are in full bloom, but you're not here.