HomeLove Story in the 1970sThe Pragmatist’s Love - Chapter 1

The Pragmatist’s Love – Chapter 1

If the college entrance examination had been reinstated just one year earlier, Fei Ni would have had other opportunities to change her fate, and she wouldn’t have married Fang Muyang.

Fei Ni was the third child in her family. She had been sickly since childhood, and both her elder brother and second sister doted on her. When they shared an apple among the three of them, she alone would get half.

Her brother joined the “Down to the Countryside” movement in Inner Mongolia right after graduating from high school. He could have taken over their parents’ factory position, but he couldn’t bear to see his sisters suffer. Their parents only had two factory positions to pass down, and he wanted to save them for his sisters. Fei Ni’s second sister took over their father’s position at the No. 2 Textile Factory, and two years later, Fei Ni replaced her mother at the Hat Factory making hats.

After starting work, Fei Ni saved all her monthly wages and food rations after paying for household meals. Whenever she met Inner Mongolia sent-down youth returning home for visits, she would take out her saved money and food coupons to buy plain cookies from the store by the pound, packaging them separately in tin cans wrapped in newly-made clothes. She would exchange the remaining local food coupons for national ones and ask others to deliver them to her brother along with the cookies and clothes. She thoughtfully included new towels and soap for him to wash his face. In every letter, her brother would tell her to stop sending cookies since he had enough to eat, saying there were too many starving people around and not enough to share. He told her not to send food coupons either, as he could manage his meals, and especially not to send clothes since he rarely got to bathe, making nice clothes a waste.

In her brother’s sixth year as a sent-down youth, Fei Ni’s second sister got married to a coworker from the No. 2 Textile Factory. Their parents had no objections, but Fei Ni disagreed, worried her sister would suffer after marriage. Her brother-in-law was an only child whose father had passed away years ago, living with his paralyzed mother in a small room in the workers’ dormitory.

Her second sister said love was more important than anything else. Fei Ni argued that love was spiritual—she could keep thinking about him without marrying him, but her body couldn’t share a small room with a paralyzed old woman year-round. Fei Ni’s theory about separating the spiritual from the material didn’t convince her love-struck sister. Instead, her sister, like Columbus discovering the New World, uncovered the materialistic nature hidden beneath her younger sister’s innocent face.

The second sister still married the accountant. Fei Ni used her saved fabric coupons to buy a piece of cloth she had long desired but couldn’t justify purchasing. She finally made the splurge and, together with the buttons she had collected, made a dress and a blouse as her sister’s wedding gift.

Originally, five family members squeezed into a dozen-square-meter dormitory room divided into two spaces. When Fei Ni entered junior high, the family began separating rooms by gender—she, her second sister, and her mother lived in the inner room, while her father and elder brother occupied the outer room. After her brother left for the countryside and her second sister got married, the home finally became less crowded. Her parents, feeling sorry for their youngest daughter, gave her the inner room to herself while they lived in the outer room.

The kitchen and toilet were shared, and the washing area was always crowded. Being silent among crowds was a luxury, and Fei Ni reluctantly learned to make small talk. What she found most unbearable was the mixed smell of rapeseed oil and lard that would drift through the corridor and into her nose during dinner time.

Only books could comfort her. The bookstore’s selection was limited, so she found university textbooks from old waste collectors and, after wearing them out, began memorizing dictionaries. Both English and Russian dictionaries—she even found entertainment in their example sentences. Once, she discovered Shakespeare among a pile of discarded items. Reading was her only pleasure. Though books didn’t contain houses of gold, and despite never ranking second in her class throughout her education, when it came to recommending worker-peasant-soldier students for university, she wasn’t considered. At dawn, she still had to return to the Hat Factory to make the same style of hats day after day. Sometimes she thought it might be better to join the “Down to the Countryside” movement—at least the countryside was vast and not so cramped.

The propaganda claimed, “The vast world has much to accomplish.”

But that was just a thought. She had heard that villagers didn’t welcome sent-down youth competing for their food. Her elder brother couldn’t even ensure basic sustenance in the countryside. He had been there for seven years now, with no hope of returning to the city. She wrote to him, encouraging him to work hard and strive for a worker-peasant-soldier university recommendation.

When not working, Fei Ni spent her time operating a sewing machine to make clothes for others. With her earnings and exchanged fabric coupons, she made a Dacron blouse for her mother and second sister, bought two pairs of nylon socks for her father, and made a pleated skirt for her brother to give to the village party secretary’s daughter, hoping to increase his chances of getting a university recommendation. She saved shampoo, face cream, and soap for her brother to use as gifts, while she washed her hair with plain soap.

Factory leaders had talked to her about an opportunity to transfer to the administrative office. Later, the news stopped—someone else got transferred instead: the financial department chief’s daughter, who pronounced “chengche” as “dengzhe.” Sometime later, the chief’s daughter was recommended for university. Fei Ni continued making hats at the Hat Factory.

Since the abolition of entrance examinations, universities have admitted many semi-literates with only primary school education, Fei Ni thought bitterly. But if given the chance to be their classmate, she would gladly accept.

No one gave her that chance.

Despite knowing both English and Russian, being able to recite Shakespeare’s sonnets, and having taught herself calculus, no one recommended her for university. If others knew she read Shakespeare, they would likely label her as a backward element.

She read in the newspaper about a girl who spent two years caring for a disabled young worker from her factory during her spare time. The girl was recognized as an advanced worker and gained a university recommendation.

Fei Ni wasn’t a noble person, but if it meant getting into university, she would willingly dedicate herself to caring for strangers at her own expense.

She was tired of making hats every day. That wasn’t the life she wanted.

Fei Ni thought of Fang Muyang, who had been recognized as an advanced worker and decided to visit her former classmate in the hospital.

During their time as classmates, Fei Ni didn’t like him. Among the cadres’ children, he had the strongest sense of equality. When other privileged children mocked working-class families for their lack of experience, telling Fang Muyang not to associate with them, he would retort directly, saying his great-grandfather had been a waste collector, the purest proletarian, so who were they looking down on? He constantly identified himself as a waste collector’s great-grandson, making people overlook his parents’ professions, his maternal grandfather’s background as a major capitalist, his paternal grandfather being a great scholar, and that going back five generations, his ancestors were all notable enough to be in textbooks.

He believed everyone was equal, but they weren’t really. Although Fang Muyang’s clothes often had holes and were far less neat and clean than Fei Ni’s, and even though his parents gave him less pocket money than Fei Ni received, wanting him to experience life, he could study painting with one of the country’s best artists, learn violin from the orchestra’s concertmaster, watch internal-circulation films, read internal magazines and various banned books, and shop at the Friendship Store that was only open to a select few.

This special treatment only lasted until Fang Muyang finished primary school. His parents were labeled as rightists, and he became a rightist’s child. No one considered him proletarian just because his great-grandfather had once been a waste collector.

Fang Muyang stopped emphasizing his ordinary background; ordinary families had become something unattainable to him.

Like Fei Ni, Fang Muyang had an elder brother and sister, but his siblings were luckier and barely affected. His brother worked at the Nuclear Research Institute as essential personnel, and his sister had entered university before the entrance examinations were abolished. But with his bad class status, he couldn’t attend university, join the army, or work in factories. He was sent down to the countryside before finishing junior high.

The turning point came six months ago. During his home leave, with no family to visit, Fang Muyang stayed with other sent-down youth. A major rainstorm caused many small houses to collapse, and he rescued several people in the downpour before being injured himself.

His rescue efforts earned him recognition as an advanced worker and newspaper coverage.

Fei Ni visited him once with former classmates, but there were too many visitors; she couldn’t even see his face through the crowds.

This time at the hospital, she brought shortbread cookies as a gift. She had thought about bringing flowers but worried people would accuse her of bourgeois sentimentality.

The ward was much quieter than she had expected.

The city produced heroes every moment; everyone couldn’t remember him. His previous hospital ward had been too in demand, so last month he was transferred to this small hospital, where he had a room to himself.

Only the two of them were in the ward; his girlfriend wasn’t there. Fei Ni could finally see Fang Muyang’s face up close. She had planned to give the cookies to his girlfriend, but after half an hour, there was no sign of her. She had heard that Fang Muyang’s girlfriend was a worker-peasant-soldier university student and that he had given up his recommendation spot for her.

Fei Ni didn’t believe this story. She didn’t think someone of his background would have been recommended for university before his heroic act.

Fei Ni asked the nurse if anyone regularly visited Fang Muyang.

The nurse said no.

She asked about his girlfriend, and the nurse said she’d never heard of one.

Fei Ni guessed they must have broken up—if there were real feelings, even with busy workdays, she should visit on weekends.

The nurses had also been neglecting him lately. His hair and nails were too long, and his beard needed shaving.

She thought of the girl who had been recognized as an advanced worker and admitted to university.

The next day, Fei Ni returned to see Fang Muyang, bringing scissors to cut his hair and nails, and using her father’s razor to shave his beard. She brought Seagull brand shampoo and washed his hair using the hospital’s basin. When water accidentally splashed into his eyes, she noticed his long eyelashes. After finishing everything, she soaked a towel in soapy water and wiped his face. He looked handsome again, though, in this era, a man’s good looks served no purpose. She told the nurse that she came because she was inspired by Fang Muyang’s heroic deeds, and she was willing to do everything possible to help him wake up.

From then on, Fei Ni went to the hospital to do good deeds after work every day, including weekends. She desperately wanted to make progress, to be recognized as advanced, and to attend university.

To appear progressive and completely separate herself from the petty bourgeoisie, she hadn’t made herself a single dress in years and had even cut her hair short.

No one wanted Fang Muyang to wake up more than she did.

Having heard that people in vegetative states needed communication, Fei Ni read to him during every visit. Always progressive books. She transplanted her flowers into small pots and transported them by bicycle. The ward’s windowsill was filled with flowers and kalanchoes of various colors.

Gradually, all the hospital nurses came to know her. When representatives from the Sent-down Youth Office came to visit Fang Muyang, Fei Ni was reading to him, and the hospital leadership introduced her touching story to them. Everyone was moved. But her care hadn’t produced substantial results, and she still hadn’t qualified for advanced worker status.

Few people visited Fang Muyang, but two beautiful women left a deep impression on her.

One was his sister, who tried to give her two hundred yuan before leaving. Fei Ni refused, saying that being able to care for a hero like Fang Muyang was her greatest happiness. She spoke so sincerely that the other believed her and eventually said to Fei Ni, “He’s fortunate to have you.”

Fei Ni thought the current bedridden Fang Muyang wasn’t fortunate at all.

The other was his girlfriend—though perhaps “former girlfriend” wasn’t quite accurate; maybe they could reconcile once Fang Muyang woke up. She stood by the window, shrouded in melancholy, resembling a figure from a painting by some unknown French artist Fei Ni had seen. Fei Ni asked this former girlfriend about what books and music Fang Muyang used to like. Her readings hadn’t been effective; she should have read things he enjoyed. Receiving no answer, she realized she had asked the wrong question—his preferences were probably all “poisonous weeds,” and mentioning them would be like confessing to crimes.

After the girlfriend left, Fei Ni began cutting Fang Muyang’s nails; they had grown out again after just two days. His hands were thin and long, roughened from frequent farm work in the countryside. While cutting his nails, she told him how extremely cold this winter was, how thick the ice was at the entrance, how she had slipped and scraped off a large patch of skin before coming to see him today, but she still had to come. She desperately wanted to make progress. She was twenty-two this year; if she couldn’t get recommended for university, she would still be making hats at the Hat Factory when she was fifty-two.

Making hats was honorable work, but she wasn’t suited for it at all. She wanted to study.

As she spoke, a tear fell into Fang Muyang’s eye. Fei Ni reached to wipe it away, touching his long eyelashes. She said to him: Wake up soon, or your girlfriend will leave.

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