Lin Ge was returning to the sent-down youth village, and Fang Muyang went to the train station to see him off, along with Auntie Fu’s gifts of beef jerky and candy. When Lin Ge refused them, Fang Muyang said if he wouldn’t eat them, he could share them with the village children. Also departing with Lin Ge was a crystal radio set Fang Muyang had made. He had originally intended to keep it for himself but couldn’t manage the antenna installation, so he gave it to his former sent-down youth companion—something to listen to when loneliness struck.

Lin Ge noticed that the Fang Muyang he first saw in the hospital was vastly different from the current one, who was identical to the person he used to know.

“Have you remembered everything?”

Fang Muyang remained silent. There were advantages to not remembering—people expected far less from an amnesiac, though it also meant losing many privileges.

Lin Ge didn’t pursue the question further. He entered the train car and waved from among the crowd. Soon the train departed, leaving Fang Muyang alone.

Fang Muyang took a tram to his original family residence. His maternal grandmother had been progressive, an American-educated scholar who preferred Western-style houses, willing to spend heavily on installing elevators in three-story buildings and ensuring each room had its bathroom. His father’s side was traditional—the old house passed down through generations. When he was six, his father donated the house, ending their family’s 150-year residence in the four-courtyard compound where, except for necessary repairs, even the furniture arrangement had remained unchanged for over a century. His family’s living space had shrunk progressively, from four courtyards to two, then to an apartment. He hadn’t felt much difference spatially—he disliked staying home anyway. No matter how large the house, it couldn’t keep him from going out. The only drawback was that in small spaces, family members were constantly in each other’s sight. His father could find him to deliver punishment at any time, unlike in the large compound where escape was always possible. Back then, missing items weren’t easily noticed either, unlike in the apartment where replacing his bed’s leather mat with imported roller skates was discovered the very next day.

Fang Muyang found that the plum tree he used to climb was still there, though now it was public property with a sign prohibiting picking.

Eating a small red bean popsicle, he sat in the shade observing passersby. Near the old residence was a park where lotus flowers were in full bloom. If not for his promise to paint lotus flowers for Auntie Fu, he would have lingered longer at the old house’s entrance.

It was nearly dinner time when he finally left the park for the Fu residence.

Ling Yi was there too.

Fang Muyang’s father had once been the superior of both Ling’s father and Director Fu. Over the years, only Director Fu, protected by his wife’s impeccable political background, had managed to maintain some semblance of their former lifestyle, though demoted. Still, he fared better than his former leader and colleagues.

Ling Yi wore a thick French braid. Due to her grandmother’s foreign blood, her features were more pronounced than most, giving the impression of a profound soul.

Had she known Fang Muyang would come, she would have chosen another time to visit. She wasn’t his girlfriend, but because he had given her his university recommendation spot, others felt she had an obligation to care for him, even though his hospitalization wasn’t for her sake. Even she felt guilty in private moments.

Back then, when she had felt hopeless and contemplated ending her life, Fang Muyang had saved her and given her his university recommendation spot. She had genuinely liked him then, even prepared to give herself to him completely to prove she would wait for him while at university.

Later, when Fang Muyang entered the hospital, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to care for him—she feared public opinion. She didn’t want people to know he had given her his university spot. Those who already knew couldn’t be helped, but if she visited frequently, the circle of knowledge would expand. A man giving his spot to a woman would inevitably lead to assumptions. Through various interpretations, rumors would bind her to Fang Muyang for life. This Fang Muyang wasn’t the one she had known before, and she wasn’t resigned to that fate.

At first, Ling Yi’s smiles were visibly forced. Fang Muyang, however, was natural, treating her simply as an old friend.

Ling Yi quickly realized this wasn’t the same Fang Muyang she had seen last time—his manner of speaking and behavior matched the person she had known before.

She was nearly moved to tears: “You’re finally better.” She had thought she’d never see the old him again.

Fang Muyang didn’t consider his former self particularly precious, nor could he understand Ling Yi’s emotional response.

The Fu couple increasingly felt the young pair was well-matched.

After dinner, Auntie Fu insisted Fang Muyang escort Ling Yi back to school.

Along the way, Ling Yi kept explaining why she hadn’t visited him regularly in the hospital.

Fang Muyang felt her guilt was unnecessary. “There’s no need to dwell on this—you had no obligation to care for me.”

When he had given up his spot, he had only wanted her to live well, not expecting anything in return.

Fei Ni stared blankly at the screen, her mind wandering beyond the film. She had finished one movie and switched to another.

She remembered being stood up by Fang Muyang as a child. That day, when her parents, brother, and sister had gone to the cinema, she had stubbornly waited alone at home because Fang Muyang had promised to take her to see a free movie. She waited until her family returned from the theater, but he never came. Even when her sister offered to take her to the department store, she refused, still waiting. She waited until sunset, but he never appeared. She skipped dinner that night, too angry to eat—half angry at his broken promise, half at herself for believing him, and everyone at home knew she had believed him. But her anger had been grand, believing she could punish him. The next day she learned he had come into money and no longer needed to trade imaginary honey on her lips for real screws, nor did he need her forgiveness. That day she reached a conclusion: though both she and Fang Muyang were heirs to socialism, their relationship was essentially capitalist and monetary, occasionally veiled in gentleness but showing its fangs at crucial moments.

The Fang Muyang who needed something from her and the one who didn’t were two different people.

Today she wasn’t angry—the disappointment was expected since she had only invited him unilaterally; he hadn’t promised anything.

Still, she was disappointed. Without his cooperation, she couldn’t get her housing allocation.

Without marriage, she could never have her own house, but marriage didn’t guarantee one either. Rather than living under someone else’s roof, she’d prefer sleeping on a mat in her own home—however difficult, at least she wouldn’t have to mind others’ attitudes. But fifteen square meters for five people, and if her brother and sister-in-law added nieces or nephews to the room, even with family, it would be incredibly inconvenient.

The more she thought, the more troubled she became.

Fei Ni decided to stop thinking about the future and focus on enjoying the movie. Tomorrow’s troubles could wait—right now, the wind carrying fresh scents from the trees into her collar was pleasant enough. The curtains, waxed floors, and tablecloths in the movie matched her ideal future. Though some colors clashed, the spaciousness of the rooms made up for it.

With her head resting on her knees, eyes fixed on the screen, she suddenly felt an itch in her ear—someone was tickling it with grass, still damp from the ground. She couldn’t help coughing, and as she turned to scold the person, she discovered it was Fang Muyang.

Warm breath entered her ear: “Waited long?”

Along with these words came an ice bottle.

Fang Muyang had appeared from nowhere and was now sitting beside her. He sat casually on a brick, speaking softly: “Eat quickly, it’ll melt soon.”

The ice bottle contained ice cream, and he hadn’t forgotten to give her a spoon.

Under the starry night, the screen’s glow reached them, allowing Fei Ni to see Fang Muyang’s profile. He was completely absorbed in the movie, watching intently despite not knowing the plot. She noticed his half-wet hair, dampened by sweat.

Fei Ni tried to return the ice bottle to Fang Muyang. “You eat it.”

“I’ve already had some.”

Fei Ni put the ice cream in her mouth, keeping her movements small to avoid attention, lips tightly closed, letting the ice cream melt inside.

Worried about mosquitoes, she had applied Florida Water to all exposed skin—neck, arms, wrists. The scent drifted with the wind into Fang Muyang’s nose.

Perhaps to avoid disturbing others, Fang Muyang stopped talking. They sat close together, their elbows occasionally touching, with Fei Ni always being the first to pull away.

They didn’t speak again until the movie ended.

Outside the park gate, Fei Ni handed the ice bottle back to Fang Muyang and pulled out her lunchbox containing a freshly washed spoon from noon. She took out the spoon and gave him the ice bottle. “I can’t finish it. You have the rest.”

“I’ll just use the original spoon.”

Before Fei Ni could warn him about using her used spoon being unhygienic, Fang Muyang had already taken a spoonful of ice cream with it. She could only put her clean spoon back in the lunchbox.

“You didn’t even wipe it.”

“I’m not that particular.”

But seeing Fang Muyang using her spoon made Fei Ni uncomfortable.

“How did you get in? Weren’t they not selling tickets when you arrived?”

Fang Muyang smiled at her: “I have my ways of getting in when I want to.” His method had been climbing the wall, but being undignified, he didn’t mention it. He had simply jumped into the park, and since he had wanted to buy a ticket but couldn’t, he felt justified. When he encountered patrolling guards, he showed no fear, walking right up to Fei Ni under their noses.

“Where were you today?” He had disappeared early and come so late.

“At an uncle’s house. It was already dark when I saw your note at the hospital.”

“Then why did you still come? You only caught the end of the movie.”

“You rarely treat me to anything—how could I not come?”

“What if I had already left?”

“If you had left, watching the movie alone wouldn’t have been a loss.”

“Why buy ice cream when you knew you were late?” It was quite far from the hospital to the park, with the ice cream stop adding more distance—no wonder he was so sweaty.

“I knew you’d be angry, so I bought ice cream to cool you down.”

“Stop joking—I’m not that angry.” Fang Muyang had bought at least four servings of ice cream, filling the bottle.

“Their spoons were too short—I worried you wouldn’t reach the bottom if I bought too little. I was wrong to be late today. I’ll treat you to another park movie tomorrow, and I’ll be on time.”

Fei Ni hummed in agreement.

“How’s your work situation?”

Fang Muyang was honest with her: “There’s a job available, but this cement factory doesn’t provide dormitory housing—I’d have to find my place.” The Sent-down Youth Office only handled urban return permits, not job assignments. For work, he had to go through the Labor Bureau. The bureau staff had taken his case seriously, directly offering him a porter position at the cement factory, saying if he wasn’t satisfied, he could wait for more suitable work. Fang Muyang didn’t mind carrying heavy loads at the cement factory, but it was a collective enterprise with no canteen or dormitory, and without housing, he couldn’t keep living at the hospital.

“I might have a solution for your housing problem.”

“What solution?”

The stars were bright, but the night was dark enough to hide Fei Ni’s flushed face. She tried to steady her heartbeat as she carefully spoke: “Our factory is allocating housing now. If you marry me, when the housing is distributed, we can split it between us.”

Men and women at the factory wanting housing allocation had already filed their marriage applications—she couldn’t wait any longer. She had planned it out last night: they would divide the room into two small spaces, she’d take the inner room, Fang Muyang the outer. She would find a way to furnish everything; he just needed to contribute his presence.

He had helped her, and she wouldn’t let him lose out.