Without giving Fang Muyang time to answer, Fei Ni said half-mockingly, “You’d better stay in the hospital. Drawing pretty girls elsewhere would be considered a moral issue, but in the hospital, people see you as a patient and won’t make a fuss about it. It won’t be so easy in the countryside.” After all those years of education from the poor and lower-middle peasants in the countryside, he’d reverted to his unreformed self as soon as he lost his memory. The reformation had limited effect, so there was no need to go through it again.
“Do you want me to keep drawing?”
Every time Fei Ni suspected Fang Muyang had fully regained his clarity, his peculiar logic would dispel her assumptions.
“You can draw anywhere.” Fang Muyang moved the dishes between him and Fei Ni aside, clearing a space. He began gesturing with his finger on the table. Fei Ni thought he was going to write something private, so she watched carefully. Soon she realized Fang Muyang was drawing. His finger had become a brush, the table his canvas. Though others couldn’t see the image, Fang Muyang could. Fei Ni gradually discovered he was drawing a woman—men don’t have such large breasts, nor would their contours match his drawn lines. This woman was drinking soda.
Fei Ni put down her soda bottle and glanced around. The small restaurant was crowded with no electric fans, and the air was sticky. Her ears grew increasingly hot. She used the back end of her chopsticks to tap Fang Muyang’s finger. “Let’s eat.”
Fang Muyang caught the chopstick end and looked up at her. Fei Ni avoided his eyes, releasing the chopstick and saying softly, “Are you going to eat or not?” There was a hint of embarrassed anger in her voice. She had previously thought that while he might not be entirely proper, at least he had proper eyes that never looked where they shouldn’t. Now she realized how deceptive his eyes and eyelashes were. He had observed her thoroughly from top to bottom without her noticing.
Fang Muyang returned the chopsticks and picked up some alfalfa meat for Fei Ni, encouraging her to eat more.
“Last time I saw you, I drew you perfectly in my mind, but when I tried to draw it later, something was always missing.”
Fei Ni interrupted him: “Did you look at the comic books I gave you?”
“Yes.”
“Can you draw something similar?”
“Probably.”
“Then draw those instead of always drawing women.”
Fang Muyang drew men too, but he didn’t clarify. He just agreed.
“Your father said you’re getting married.”
Fei Ni wanted to say it wasn’t happening so soon, but she swallowed the words. She would have to marry eventually.
“Are you avoiding the hospital because you’re afraid they’ll try to arrange our marriage? If they ask my opinion, I definitely won’t let them make such a request of you. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” The hospital leadership, concerned about Fang Muyang drawing the young nurse, had offered to introduce him to someone, asking what kind of girl he liked. He mentioned Fei Ni, but they coughed awkwardly and said to forget about her—they’d previously discussed marriage with her, but she’d refused and now wouldn’t even visit.
Though Fei Ni did think marrying Fang Muyang would be disadvantageous to her, hearing him say it now made her feel inexplicably sorry for him.
“They did mention marriage, but it wouldn’t be fair to you either, since I’m the only person you remember.” Probably sensing the weakness of this argument, she changed the subject. “Don’t mention going back to the youth site anymore. Let the Youth Office arrange work for you. If you keep asking, they’ll eventually solve it. Once you have a proper job, maybe Ling Yi might change her mind.”
“She doesn’t need to change her mind, and I don’t need her to. If I get a proper job, would you go to the movies with me?”
“I’m not interested in movies anymore—it’s always the same few films shown over and over.”
“Then what are you going to watch with him on Sunday?”
Fei Ni picked up some greens for Fang Muyang. “Don’t come to the factory to find me anymore. You only think I’m important now because you’re familiar with me. Once you have a job and meet more people, you’ll realize there’s nothing special about me.”
“You’re different from others.”
Fei Ni didn’t believe him. “Wait until you have a job and meet more people before saying that.”
“You’ll always be different to me, no matter when.”
“Hurry and eat, it’s getting late. I need to head home after we finish.”
Fei Ni lowered her head to pick at the vegetables in her bowl, thinking they’d ordered too much with three dishes for two people—they couldn’t finish it all.
When Fei Ni noticed that Fang Muyang had also lost his appetite, she said, “Let’s go then.”
After leaving the restaurant, Fang Muyang walked with Fei Ni for a while in the same direction before she pointed east: “The bus stop is that way—you need to go in that direction.”
“I’ll walk you home.”
“I’m cycling. If you walk with me, I’ll have to wait for you. You should head back to the hospital.”
Before turning away, Fang Muyang said to Fei Ni: “When I get a job, I’ll come find you again. Please don’t marry anyone else before then.”
“There’s chalk dust on your right arm, brush it off.” Fei Ni didn’t say yes. She didn’t know how he’d gotten white chalk on his arm, and though she’d meant to brush it off for him, her hand stopped ten centimeters from his arm and returned to the bicycle handlebar.
But Fang Muyang didn’t look down at his arm. He said, “Get on your bike, I’ll watch you go.” He suspected Fei Ni would leave while he was looking down.
If Fang Muyang hadn’t said he’d watch her go, Fei Ni might have looked back once.
When she got home, she still didn’t look back.
Old Fei saw the flowers in Fei Ni’s hands and asked who gave them to her.
Fei Ni said, “As long as they’re pretty, it doesn’t matter who gave them.” She took out the artificial flowers and put the white gladiolus in the vase.
The next day, she went to the post office and mailed paper and paint to Fang Muyang, without writing her name as the sender.
The gladiolus stayed in the vase for two weeks without wilting much.
During these two weeks, Fei Ni and Ye Feng listened to “Shajiabang,” watched ballet, and went boating once in the park.
Ye Feng invited Fei Ni to his home as a guest—though it was actually to meet his parents. Fei Ni agreed without hesitation.
Ye Feng matched Fei Ni’s image of a husband perfectly. Those artistic wanderers had never been in her consideration. Though in recent years, such wanderers had all hidden themselves, becoming proper citizens, rarely to be seen. If Fang Muyang’s family hadn’t experienced misfortune, he might have become such a person. Whether or not Fang Muyang recovered his memory, he was far from her imagined husband.
For her first visit to the Ye household, Fei Ni discussed with her family what gifts to bring.
Old Fei suggested sending the chocolate and American milk powder—the chocolate Fang Muyang had brought was still stored in a cool place, barely touched, and the milk powder remained unopened. Fei Ni said it wasn’t right to receive presents from guests, saying they should keep the milk powder and chocolate.
In these times, when no family was well-off, it was common for people to save guests’ gifts and pass them on to others. Sometimes, a box of pastries would pass through more than ten households, and the Fei family often did this too. But when Fei Ni said it wasn’t right, Old Fei couldn’t object.
Finally, Fei Ni used her recently received wages to buy eight types of pastries, filling a gift box until it was nearly overflowing, and bought a can of tea leaves from the tea shop. On the day of her visit to the Ye family, she wore her newly made plaid blouse with her previous blue cotton skirt.
The Ye family lived on the third floor of a building with two households per floor.
When Fei Ni arrived, only Ye Feng’s mother was in the living room, with the maid sorting vegetables in the kitchen. Ye Feng asked where his father was, and his mother said he was in the study and shouldn’t be disturbed. Ye Feng’s mother only nodded when Fei Ni called her “Auntie” and didn’t speak to her afterward. The maid came to pour tea, and Ye Feng’s mother sat on the sofa reading the newspaper, not even making basic small talk.
Fei Ni knew that Ye Feng must have told his parents about her identity before she came. His parents weren’t people who didn’t understand etiquette; such negligence must be intentional. Their disapproval of her before her arrival couldn’t be about her, but rather about her family background and occupation.