Fei Ni’s photo appeared on the front page, forcing her into unexpected fame. What touched people most wasn’t her appearance but her smile—a smile that seemed to dispel all gathered gloom.
She had been a worker at the hat factory, and although she was now a university student, the factory still considered her one of their own. They prominently displayed the newspaper with her photo on their bulletin board. Though Fei Ni no longer worked there, factory workers could see her picture every day.
Feng Lin passed by Fei Ni’s photo and article on her daily route. She privately cursed the hat factory for being ridiculous—Fei Ni would never return to work there, so what was the point of all this publicity? Though she disliked Fei Ni, she was forced to see her face daily. One day, while lingering at the bulletin board, she unexpectedly discovered that Fei Ni was quite photogenic. She believed Fei Ni in person wasn’t as beautiful or as elegant as her photograph suggested. But not everyone had seen Fei Ni in-person—Feng Lin’s relatives, for instance, mistook her for a great beauty based on the photo alone.
While Fei Ni was indeed pretty, she wasn’t as stunning as the photograph suggested. Feng Lin couldn’t explain this to them—photos could be deceiving, and saying too much would make them think she was jealous of Fei Ni. Previously, no one would have believed she could be jealous of Fei Ni; her family background, education, and job were all superior. But times had changed—marriage and the college entrance exam had completely turned the tables for Fei Ni. Setting everything else aside, compared to Fei Ni’s legitimate admission to a prestigious university based on her test scores, Feng Lin’s status as a Worker-Peasant-Soldier student felt less impressive.
Feng Lin surprisingly discovered that Fei Ni had become a conversation piece, a way to embellish her own experiences. She slightly embellished their relationship, claiming that she and Fei Ni had worked on the blackboard newspaper together and that Fei Ni had highly valued and usually humbly accepted her opinions.
Even if Fei Ni were present, she couldn’t deny Feng Lin’s words. There had been an allowance for working on the blackboard newspaper back then, and she had indeed taken Feng Lin’s opinions seriously. Even when Feng Lin’s suggestions were completely wrong, she didn’t quit—until Feng Lin went too far, making her willing to forgo the allowance just to avoid seeing her.
That had been Feng Lin’s golden age—too beautiful and thus incredibly brief. Occasionally glimpsing Fei Ni’s photo would remind her of those wonderful times.
But those good times would never return; Fei Ni would no longer listen to her guidance.
Letters from across the country arrived at Fei Ni’s university, all addressed to her. The contents varied widely, but they all ended with the same request: to become pen pals with Fei Ni. At first, she responded to every letter, writing brief replies even when declining. Later, as the letters became too numerous, she didn’t even have time to read them, let alone respond.
Her roommate, Old Six, told her, “If the newspaper hadn’t mentioned you were married, you’d probably receive even more letters.”
Due to the newspaper coverage, Fei Ni had become a well-known figure at the university. Even in the cafeteria, people would greet her as if they were old friends. Only after responding would she realize she didn’t know the person who had just greeted her. While initially uncomfortable with this, she soon forgot about it all, immersed in the books at the library. Many of the department’s professors had returned to teaching after years of forced inactivity, and the students, except for the fresh graduates, had also spent many years yearning to study. The professors’ enthusiasm for teaching was unprecedented, eager to share all their knowledge, while the students possessed unlimited enthusiasm for learning. In such an atmosphere, Fei Ni only regretted not having read enough books.
Fei Ni hadn’t expected the department’s professors to match her name and face on the first day. This wasn’t because of her appearance on the front page, but because transferring her file to the department had been extremely difficult. If the department hadn’t insisted, she would have been snatched up by another school.
Fei Ni didn’t know how much effort the department had expended to keep her; she only knew she had much to catch up on. She used every available moment to read, even reading under her covers after lights out. She now slept in the upper bunk, with beds on both sides of the room and tables pushed together in the middle, filling the entire space. Personal space was minimal, the small bed far less comfortable than home, but none of that mattered—what mattered was having books to read. Sometimes while reading, Fang Muyang’s face would suddenly pop into her mind, and she’d wonder what he was doing. To prevent her from forgetting him while reading, Fang Muyang had specially made her many bookmarks featuring his drawings, making it impossible for her to read without thinking of him.
After being married to Fang Muyang for over a year, she had grown accustomed to having someone beside her, even if they weren’t doing or saying anything—just being able to turn and see each other was enough. The sudden separation took some getting used to.
However, this was all temporary; everything would be fine once they both graduated. Fei Ni didn’t feel sad about this brief separation.
When Nurse Zhou at the hospital first saw Fei Ni’s newspaper photo, it seemed familiar. After checking the name, she made the connection. Fei Ni’s features were distinctive and memorable after several encounters. But what had impressed Zhou most were Fei Ni’s eyes. She had often seen those eyes during Fang Muyang’s hospitalization.
Zhou’s strongest impression of Fei Ni was her quietness—she rarely spoke, usually just smiling, yet constantly talked to the still-comatose Fang Muyang. Every time Zhou opened the ward door, she’d find Fei Ni reading newspapers or books to him. She wasn’t sure exactly what was being said, as Fei Ni’s voice was always soft, just loud enough for Fang Muyang to hear, though he lay unconscious in bed. The words seemed meant for herself. Zhou had thought Fei Ni pitiful then, as Fang Muyang might never wake up. But Fei Ni never saw herself as pitiful; with her face covered by a large mask, only her eyes visible, there was never any dejection in them, as if Fang Muyang was already awake or would wake at any moment.
When Fang Muyang woke up, Fei Ni left, presumably to let him be with the person he loved. Zhou had heard secondhand that Fang Muyang already had someone in his heart, and Fei Ni had firmly refused to marry him for his happiness, preferring to watch his happiness from afar, alone. Their eventual marriage probably meant Fang Muyang finally realized who was best for him.
Zhou shared her imagined love story with new colleagues and relatives, repeatedly telling of Fei Ni’s selfless love. Sometimes she’d tear up at emotional moments. As she gathered more details—like how Fang Muyang had given up his university admission for his ex-girlfriend, who never once visited him—her storytelling grew more passionate, mixing sympathy with indignation. With each retelling, Zhou became more practiced, and more fluent, continuously filling logical gaps until she found her desired truth. She wrote down her latest version, repeatedly moved by her own words—a beautiful, kind, selfless girl who not only found love but achieved academic success. Her tears stained the paper as she mailed it off.
A few days after submitting her manuscript, the editorial department contacted her to verify sources, mainly confirming that she had indeed been a nurse where Fang Muyang was hospitalized. Since the title was “xxx in My Eyes,” the “I” implied subjective content, so the editors didn’t verify details with the actual people involved.
When the article was published, Fei Ni barely recognized herself. The events were accurate—she had cut Fang Muyang’s hair and nails, spent all her savings caring for him, and had said things like “It’s my honor to care for a hero like Fang Muyang” and “For his happiness, I can’t marry him.” But her feelings were completely different from what the article described.
She could hardly tell people that she wasn’t as noble as they imagined, that her initial motivation for caring for Fang Muyang was to get into university, and that her initial refusal to marry him wasn’t to ensure his happiness but fear that he would hold her back. None of these truths could be openly admitted, so she could only let others shape her image as a devoted lover.
Su Jing had been admitted to the same department as Fei Ni. When he read about her devotion to another man in the newspaper, he imagined her rushing to the hospital by bicycle after work, reading newspapers to a man in the quiet afternoon, hoping for his awakening—a perfect scene. When he finally woke up, she left for his happiness. Su Jing privately cursed Fang Muyang for being blind; no one deserved such devotion from Fei Ni. Sometimes Su Jing wished he were older, so Fei Ni wouldn’t have had to wait so sadly for someone, even though she eventually got him.
Fei Ni noticed that every time she finished a book, Su Jing would seek her out within two days to discuss it. At first, she wondered about their surprisingly similar reading tastes, but eventually stopped thinking about it and focused on their discussions. To avoid appearing ignorant before Fei Ni, Su Jing would thoroughly research and organize his thoughts before each discussion. Yet despite such careful preparation, he sometimes couldn’t follow Fei Ni’s train of thought, leaving him frustrated. He asked Fei Ni, “Do you think I’m stupid?”
Fei Ni replied, “At your age, I wasn’t nearly as good as you.”
“How old are you to be talking about ‘back in your day’?”
Fei Ni thought for a moment and said, “I just mean that what I understand now, you’ll understand eventually.” She had experienced many moments of ignorance, and because she had gone through the process of moving from “not knowing” to “knowing,” she believed Su Jing would do the same.
Su Jing felt somewhat lost, “I always feel like you treat me like a child, but we’re not that far apart in age.”
“It’s not about age difference. Sometimes I envy that you could go to university right after middle school. At your age, I thought that was an impossible dream.” Fei Ni always felt that Su Jing wasn’t from her generation. He was different from her and Fang Muyang—he had gone straight from middle school to the college entrance exam, always being a student, just transitioning from middle school to university student. Those who had always been students tended to be more innocent. Older students like her had their advantages—work experience had deepened their understanding, and long-term deprivation made them eagerly devour intellectual nourishment, regardless of whether they could digest it. Su Jing wouldn’t understand this feeling.
“Did you want to go to university very badly back then?”
“Very much.” To the point of obsession.
“How did you feel when you learned that Fang Muyang had given up his university spot to someone else?”
No one had ever asked Fei Ni this question before. How did she feel? Reflecting on her state of mind then, her first reaction was disbelief—she couldn’t believe anyone would give up their university spot to another person. If it was true, Fang Muyang was the biggest fool in the world. She only came to believe it because Ling Yi hadn’t denied it—if it were false, Ling Yi would certainly have denied such a rumor.
“Do you think it was worth it?” Su Jing felt it wasn’t worth it for Fei Ni. If Fang Muyang’s ex-girlfriend had wanted him back, it might not have been Fei Ni who married him. Fang Muyang must have been blind—Fei Ni didn’t deserve to be anyone’s “second choice.”
“Since my marriage, I’ve gotten everything I wanted most at each stage,” Fei Ni replied.
She wasn’t lying, but that didn’t prevent Su Jing from misunderstanding.
In others’ minds, Fei Ni had perfectly played the role of the tragic heroine who persevered until her dreams came true.
Fei Ni’s former neighbor—Section Chief Xu from the hat factory—also read Nurse Zhou’s article. He remarked to his wife Wang Xiaoman, “I think all women should learn from Fei Ni. Look how she went to care for young Fang after work when he wasn’t even her husband yet…”
Wang Xiaoman immediately became angry: “Are you saying you want to marry someone like Fei Ni? Let me tell you something—not only could you never get someone like her, but even if you did, she wouldn’t treat you like she treated young Fang. Before dreaming big, look at yourself: Have you saved anyone’s life like young Fang? Are you as handsome as him? How many comic books have you published? Have you gotten into university? Do you know how to cherish a wife like young Fang does? Your only similarity with young Fang is that you’re both men—surely you don’t think every man deserves a Fei Ni?”
“You’re being completely unreasonable! I was just discussing the newspaper article with you. Why do you have so much to say!”
“Don’t think I don’t know what you men are thinking! How you treat me is how I’ll treat you. I have my measure of things—if you’re good to me, I naturally won’t shortchange you. Stop comparing wives with others. Look at yourself before comparing—I’m more than good enough for you!”
Having his thoughts exposed by his wife, Section Chief Xu found himself in an awkward position and had to resort to sweet talk to make amends. Though his wife might not be perfect, in this vast world, she was his only wife, and he should cherish her.
Ye Feng’s wife read this touching story in the newspaper and shared it with her husband and mother-in-law.
She was deeply moved by Fei Ni and Fang Muyang’s story, shedding a few tears.
Ye Feng’s mother felt no emotion except anger, though she couldn’t express this to her daughter-in-law. If Fei Ni loved Fang Muyang so much, why had she gone on matchmaking dates with her son? What had her son been to Fei Ni? She had thought Ye Feng and Fei Ni’s breakup was because her son valued his mother’s opinion, choosing her over Fei Ni. Only after reading the newspaper did she realize Ye Feng had merely been Fei Ni’s “second choice”—once the most important one agreed to marry her, the less important one could be discarded.
She had wanted to write to the newspaper to expose how Fei Ni had met another man’s parents just a week before her marriage, proving she wasn’t singularly devoted to Fang Muyang as the article claimed. But Ye Feng’s father stopped his wife’s impulsive action, saying there was no need to offend the Fang family over old matters. Before moving to their new home, they had lived in a single-story house in a large compound originally owned by the Fang family. The property had been donated and become public, with part of it eventually allocated to their work unit for employee housing. Although the Fangs hadn’t intended to give them housing, they had still benefited from the Fang family. Moreover, Fei Ni’s father-in-law was still in office—there was no need to offend her.
After assessing the situation, Ye Feng’s mother chose to let the matter rest.
Ye Feng was forced to listen to his wife’s retelling of Fei Ni and Fang Muyang’s love story. Male pride prevented him from telling his wife that if he had been more decisive back then, he might have been the one to marry Fei Ni—that the newspaper story was just a story, not the whole truth. Unable to speak up, he could only let his wife imagine the beautiful romance between Fei Ni and Fang Muyang.
“Braving the cold wind after work just to read to someone who couldn’t hear her—just imagining that scene is touching.” Hearing no response from Ye Feng, his wife pressed, “Don’t you think so?”
To stop his wife’s questioning, Ye Feng occasionally mumbled “Yes.”
These were all minor ripples in others’ lives—the person truly affected was Ling Yi. With only a few newspapers and magazines available, that article was bound to appear in her world. Even if she didn’t read it, her family, colleagues, and friends would. Though the article didn’t name names, everyone at the former youth farming site knew that Fang Muyang had given his university spot to her, and now with the nurse’s article, everyone knew she had never visited him in the hospital. The only thing she could clarify was that she had never been Fang Muyang’s girlfriend. But if she wasn’t his girlfriend, shouldn’t she have been even more obligated to visit him after he gave up his spot for her? When curious relatives and colleagues asked Ling Yi, who had worked alongside Fang Muyang, about who got his spot, she couldn’t say it was herself, nor could she make up a name, so she just said she didn’t know. But it wasn’t hard to guess that Fang Muyang had given the spot to her.
Because of this article, Ling Yi suffered from insomnia for several days, constantly feeling like people were gossiping about her behind her back. Her parents, worried about her and concerned that this might affect her future, decided after much deliberation to swallow their pride and ask Fei Ni and Fang Muyang to clarify things. Though they knew only one thing could truly be clarified: that Ling Yi had never been Fang Muyang’s girlfriend—everything else would need careful phrasing. This time, Ling Yi finally showed courage, telling her parents, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go talk to Fei Ni.”
On Saturday afternoon, instead of Fang Muyang coming to pick her up, Fei Ni found Ling Yi waiting for her.
She suddenly recalled when she had gone to Ling Yi’s school to find her, asking her to visit Fang Muyang in the hospital. Back then, she had stood on the campus, watching other students pass by, thinking how wonderful it would be if she could attend university—if she could take the exam, she wouldn’t be inferior to anyone.
Now the scene was reversed, with Ling Yi coming to find her.
Fei Ni couldn’t imagine why Ling Yi would seek her out.
Ling Yi was noticeably thinner than before, and her spirit seemed broken. In terms of appearance, she wasn’t much inferior to Fei Ni, but her eyes clearly showed dejection.
Ling Yi apologized to Fei Ni.
“You have nothing to apologize to me for.” This was Fei Ni’s honest feeling—from beginning to end, only Fang Muyang had the right to forgive Ling Yi, and whether he would or not, she didn’t want to interfere.
As they walked along the campus paths, people frequently greeted Fei Ni.
Ling Yi was puzzled—Fei Ni hadn’t been studying here long, yet everyone seemed to know her.
“Back then, Mu… Fang Muyang gave up his spot to me because…”
Fei Ni cut her off: “He told me it was because your cultural knowledge was better than his.” The spot had nothing to do with romance.
Ling Yi’s lips trembled uncontrollably. “He told you that?”
“Yes.”
Fang Muyang had saved face for her, though she hadn’t handled things well at all.
Ling Yi covered her face with both hands, her fingers hiding her tears. Walking along the campus path, she told Fei Ni her version: “It wasn’t because of that. Do you remember when Muyang asked you where you wanted to go for rural work? He wanted to go with you. But fate had other plans, and I ended up going with him instead. Without his permission, I changed our assignment to the same location. It was a very harsh place, and I couldn’t adapt well. I thought this was my sacrifice for him, but he didn’t appreciate it at all. Although he often helped me with work, he always deliberately maintained his distance. Looking back now, what I called sacrifice was just a burden to him. He gained nothing from my sacrifice; instead, he had to do much extra work he shouldn’t have had to do. He took care of me, partly out of responsibility and partly because he had no choice. I could feel that he didn’t like me then, but I couldn’t admit it. If I had admitted it, my decision to go there with him would have seemed completely absurd. I could only endure being there because he was there. Later, when I learned he was going to university while I might stay in that place forever, life seemed completely hopeless…”