Shanghai Meets European Antiques
Inspired by the style of old Shanghainese houses, Alley 7 leads you to walk through the time tunnel, back to 40 years ago. Through the antique tap, the little garden is watered; in front of the mottled white wall, all kinds of green, including chartreuse, emerald, jade and lime green, compose a charming splash ink painting in the bright sun of this southern land. The water lilies welcome you with their blooming blossom as if beautiful young ladies rested their adorable faces on hands, staring at you. Opening the door, CJ, the host with a pair of glasses, is chatty and kind. No matter which topics the conversation is about, the plants in the garden or the frogs hidden within, CJ’s passion will spontaneously overflow and can clearly be seen through his shining eyes.
Entering the house, you are greeted and directed to the living room by Fish, the hostess, at the bar of the kitchen. In the living room, the montage of light, shadow and colors shows on the two huge windows with black square frames: small trees swing, and the silhouettes of branches and leaves play on the wall of the next door. On the wooden table by the window are placed a few dishes of mango slices and cold-brew tea. Feasting your eyes on the combination of bright yellow sweetness and the purely fresh coolness, you are relieved from the summer heat. Sitting on the vintage soft leather armchair under the gentle light of the lamp on the corner, you concentrate on reading a book taken from wall bookshelves, or, browsing the postcards on consignment and smiling at some warm phrases or a few humorous lines on them.

A Creative Kingdom with Five Rooms, Each Centered around a Unique, Classic Chair
Walking along the garden path to the back of the house, you reach the Room 1A, the South of France, for a sweet lady like you. The light orange patterns bloom on square bricks paving a row of aromatic beauty. Hitching up the skirt and slightly lifting the tip of your straw hat, you walk barefoot in the room as if you breathe the air of sunny Southern France. Even the light green sofa becomes silky grassland on which you can freely rest.
On the wall of the stairway by the living room, you take a pair of soft leather slippers. Following the stairs, you come to Room 2A--the borderland of Thailand of latitude 18°. In this room, the white meshed curtains draped over the bed, and the sun of this southern land filters through the window. You settle yourself down on the long sofa by the window, and he sits on a vintage chair, which is olive green. Or you both stay by the small balcony, picturing your vacation in Chiang Mai. Next door, in Room 2B, the sled chair makes the whole space a loft in New York: the mottled ceiling, pipe clothes hangers and a spacious wardrobe made of a wooden ladder. The roughness of the light industrial interior design melts in the balanced blue-green walls and a retro chandelier, becoming as gentle as a peaceful lake.
On the third floor, the smell of rushes prevails in Room 3A. The warm sunlight comes from two rectangular windows in the room, and the rattan triple chair also opens its arm to all the visitors. Girls freely jump or lie down on the futons. In the Japanese-style room, the breeze caresses the balcony where the shadows of trees compose a splash ink painting in the delightful afternoon light. Or you can bring simple luggage to visit North Europe before the summer leaves. In Room 3B, with the white wall and the light brown interior, all you can feel is the purity of simplicity. A Denmark lounger is placed by a Norwegian seagull chair. A pair of old French lamps are fixed on the headboard; the natural light sent out from the cover paints the wall with small light dots as if a starry night shines only for you in the room.

Memories of a Light-Hearted Trip Out in the Sun
Next day, the daylight spreads on the panes along with the black aluminum window frame. CJ tells the stories of classic furniture and chairs he has collected in the house casually, and Fish shares her signature snacks with you. Both he and she have the warmth in the smiles, which exclusively belongs to Tainan. When the slightly rusty hands of the clock point to half past eleven and the pendulum regularly swings, you close the book in hands. You pick a few postcards from the wood box on the wooden table in the living room, putting them in your notebook and ready to set off. You continue your trip, leaving without obsession because you know well that at this end of the alley—Alley 7, will always open.