When Fei Ni entered the cinema, she didn’t see Su Jing who had invited her to watch the movie, but instead saw Su Yu.

Although Su Yu hadn’t been working with Fang Muyang recently, she had read all of his comic strips. However, when she looked through the newspaper reviews of these comics, she couldn’t find any written by Tian Xueying. Perhaps because Fang Muyang’s comics had gained some recognition, they no longer needed such vigorous promotion from family members.

She specifically called the hat factory to inquire about Tian Xueying, who was indeed an employee there but had already retired. She speculated there were two possibilities: first, the “Tian Xueying” in the newspaper was truly Fang Muyang’s mother-in-law; alternatively, the pen name “Tian Xueying” was merely a cover, and the real author of the reviews was either Fang Muyang or his wife, using a different name to avoid obvious self-promotion.

When Su Yu saw Fang Muyang and Fei Ni, she greeted Fei Ni first, then Fang Muyang. She was careful to maintain appropriate boundaries with married men, especially since she had briefly been interested in Fang Muyang. To prove she harbored no ulterior motives toward him, she was far more enthusiastic with Fei Ni than with Fang Muyang. Besides, she felt Fei Ni was closer to “Tian Xueying.”

She had recently written a new script for the drama society and was eager to see “Tian Xueying’s” review.

Su Yu told Fei Ni that she hadn’t seen “Tian Xueying’s” reviews in the paper lately and expressed her regret. She wanted to convey through Fei Ni that Madam Tian could write reviews of other works besides Fang Muyang’s comics. She expressed interest in visiting Auntie Tian this week, asking if that would be possible.

Naturally, Fei Ni couldn’t let Su Yu visit her mother, as Madam Xueying would rather discuss pickling vegetables and knitting patterns than anything Su Yu might want to talk about.

Yet she didn’t want to admit that she had written the reviews herself, as self-promotion would weaken the articles’ credibility. In truth, even if Fang Muyang weren’t her husband, she would still think his work was good.

Seeing Fei Ni’s hesitation, Fang Muyang answered for her, telling Su Yu, “The person you want to visit is right in front of you.”

Fei Ni smiled sheepishly.

Due to Fei Ni’s special relationship with Madam Tian, Su Yu was quite enthusiastic about chatting with her.

As they talked, she asked Fei Ni, “Have you considered changing jobs? I might be able to help.” While she couldn’t guarantee anything, she could try to help if Fei Ni was interested, given her broader network of connections.

Fei Ni appreciated Su Yu’s kindness, even though it was just an offer to try. After thanking her, Fei Ni told Su Yu that she had taken the college entrance exam a few days ago, and barring any unexpected circumstances, she should be able to attend university, so there was no need to trouble Su Yu.

Su Yu looked Fei Ni up and down, agreeing that school indeed suited her better than other places.

Su Yu then asked if Fei Ni had seen any plays recently. Fei Ni initially said no, but quickly understanding Su Yu’s intention, asked if she had any recommendations.

Su Yu then mentioned that the theater troupe was currently performing her play, and if Fei Ni was interested, she could give her two tickets.

“That would be wonderful,” Fei Ni said. She was eager to see new plays, having memorized all the old ones.

During intimate scenes in the movie, Su Yu, despite never having been in a formal relationship, had become quite accustomed to such scenes from watching internal screenings and remained composed. Fei Ni, however, wasn’t as natural.

Fei Ni sat between Su Yu on her left and Fang Muyang on her right. Earlier, during a power outage, Fang Muyang had taken the opportunity to hold her hand, his fingers teasing her palm so subtly it made her ticklish. Though she wanted to pull away, she couldn’t, and while his grip was discreet, Fei Ni constantly worried Su Yu might turn and see. During the romantic scenes, her heart raced irregularly, and despite the winter cold, her palms grew sweaty.

The movie was excellent, unlike anything Fei Ni had seen before. After it ended, she and Su Yu exchanged their thoughts. Su Yu and Fei Ni had plenty to discuss, and since Su Yu was maintaining distance from Fang Muyang, she didn’t engage him in conversation. Fei Ni, considering Fang Muyang’s family and thus too familiar, didn’t feel obligated to include him out of politeness, so he remained completely silent during their discussion.

Fang Muyang used this time to contemplate the movie’s composition, thinking the director must have had an art background. His thoughts didn’t interrupt his actions; worried about Fei Ni’s cold hands, he tucked her hand into his pocket to warm it.

After quite a while of conversation, Fei Ni finally bid farewell to Su Yu and hopped onto the bicycle’s back seat.

Fang Muyang said to her, “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Fei Ni didn’t take his bait, thinking that even if she wanted to forget him, he wouldn’t allow it. Her palm remained warm in his pocket.

“Why didn’t you listen to me during the movie?” She had asked him to let go, but he had kept holding on.

“What do you mean?”

“Now you’re pretending not to understand.”

“There was a scene I liked, and I was afraid I’d forget it, so I drew it on your hand.”

Fei Ni recalled the sensation, realizing Fang Muyang did seem to have been drawing something.

“Why didn’t you draw it on your palm?”

“Because I thought you’d like it too.”

“You’re so shameless.” Fei Ni couldn’t help but laugh; she really couldn’t do anything about Fang Muyang.

“Will you teach me how to paint?”

For the first lesson, Fang Muyang let Fei Ni express herself freely, drawing whatever she wanted so he could tailor his teaching method.

“Then I’ll draw you.” Fei Ni opened the wine she’d bought yesterday and poured herself half a glass. She took a large sip and began drawing Fang Muyang’s features on the canvas. Under the pretense of observation, she looked at him more boldly than ever before, but when Fang Muyang met her gaze, he didn’t shy away at all. Thankfully, she’d had some wine; otherwise, she would have been embarrassed by his stare long ago.

“Why don’t you ever blush?”

“That’s just because you haven’t noticed.”

Fei Ni took another small sip of wine. “That’s completely untrue, no matter how much I notice.”

“That’s problematic reasoning. You’d need to exhaust all possibilities to prove it doesn’t exist. If you just took the initiative to kiss me, you’d see how undignified I can be.”

“It’s not like I haven’t…”

She had initiated kisses before.

Fang Muyang laughed, “We’ve been married for over a year, and I’ve grown somewhat. I won’t blush just from this anymore; you’ll have to be more forward.”

Fei Ni walked over and made Fang Muyang her chair. She was always bolder when drunk. Sitting on her new seat, she kissed his face and carefully examined his color, running her finger along his ear, “You’re not blushing at all, not even your ears are different from usual…”

“Really?” Without a mirror, Fang Muyang could only use Fei Ni’s eyes as one, trying hard to see his own face’s color. But these mirrors revealed nothing no matter how he looked.

They gazed at each other, Fei Ni holding his face in both hands, carefully pressing her lips to his, kissing him once and checking his face, then kissing him again and looking, but still no blush. Fang Muyang pinched her red cheeks probably from the alcohol.

“See? I told you you never blush.”

“Try kissing somewhere else.” Fang Muyang took her hand and guided it to where he wanted her to try.

Fei Ni’s face immediately grew much redder.

Fang Muyang stroked her cheek, “Your face got red before mine; I was just teasing you.”

He asked her, “Weren’t we going to draw? Let me teach you.”

Fei Ni freed herself from his embrace, “No need, go get your violin.” She wanted to hear him play; he had bought the violin when she was sick a few days ago. She had wanted to buy him one earlier but had been delayed by exam preparation. Fang Muyang had probably bought it to cheer her up while she was ill, playing the songs she wanted to hear. But with limited study time, she only let him play briefly before sending him back to review. Now finally, she could listen as long as she wanted.

Fei Ni didn’t pick up her brush; she just watched Fang Muyang, finally having a legitimate reason to look at him properly. Though they’d been married for over a year, staring at him for long periods still felt strange.

Fei Ni sipped her wine while watching Fang Muyang, like observing a figure in a painting. The only difference was that while painted figures could only be observed, Fang Muyang could look back at her.

The lights suddenly went out, leaving only the window’s faint illumination in the room.

Another power outage.

Fei Ni couldn’t continue her painting, so she finished the wine in her glass but didn’t ask Fang Muyang to stop playing.

She asked him, “Do you remember what song you played at our wedding? I’d like to hear it again.” She had remembered it all this time but hadn’t heard it among the many records she’d listened to recently.

The song was simple, composed by Fang Muyang himself, not a famous piece. Even beginners could learn to play it.

But in Fei Ni’s heart, it was like a masterpiece.

Neither of them suggested lighting a candle.

Fei Ni and Fang Muyang sat facing each other in the filtered light, drinking wine. She poured herself another half glass, but after just one sip, Fang Muyang snatched it and finished it.

“You stole my wine again.”

“Didn’t you say I could do anything tonight?”

Fei Ni laughed, she might have been a bit drunk, but her memory was still intact. “Didn’t you say you just wanted me to rest well? I’m sleepy now, bring the pillows and blankets over. Let’s sleep here tonight; we can see the stars as soon as we open our eyes.”

After speaking, Fei Ni closed her eyes, waiting for Fang Muyang to bring the cushions, blankets, and pillows. She poured herself a little more wine, knowing even when three parts drunk that she shouldn’t drink too much. She tilted her head back and drank it, sometimes needing the courage that wine provided.

Fei Ni lay with her head on Fang Muyang’s arm, watching the stars above. Fang Muyang watched with her, occasionally kissing her. A few days ago, when she was sick, Fei Ni had forbidden him from touching her face, fearing she’d infect him. Now that she was better, she let him kiss her freely, sometimes responding, her eyes still fixed on the stars through the skylight. Perhaps because the exam was over, her eyes sparkled with laughter. Fang Muyang reached out to tickle her, and Fei Ni rolled around under the blanket, begging for mercy while trying to escape, but he caught her anyway. She was particularly helpless when tickled, unable to control her laughter. The light from the skylight scattered across the ginger and gardenia-patterned silk blanket, shattered by her laughter. The laughter ended abruptly, a short sound that transformed into something else, the subsequent sounds as fragmented as the light.

Later, Fei Ni retreated completely under the blanket, leaving Fang Muyang alone outside. She couldn’t see the stars, nor could she see if Fang Muyang was truly blushing.