HomeLove Story in the 1970sThe Pragmatist’s Love - Chapter 113

The Pragmatist’s Love – Chapter 113

Mu Jing first met Zhai Hua on a train.

She was taking the train to visit her brother who was still in the hospital. Fei Ni had called her school to tell her that her brother had awakened. Having bought her ticket in a hurry, she could only get a standing ticket. She watched as others either squeezed onto the train or were pushed on by their families, while she couldn’t even hold her ground, being forced back half a meter by the surging crowd. She knew orderly queuing was impossible now and joined the pushing throng, but her complete lack of experience meant she couldn’t make any headway.

The train was about to depart. The men in front of her were either pushing their way up or helping their families aboard. She was all alone, and in terms of strength, she was no match for them. She had only gotten three days’ leave, and her brother was lying in the hospital—she had to catch this train no matter what. With this thought, she cast aside her dignity and desperately tried to squeeze through the gap between the two men.

If the train hadn’t been so crowded, even had empty seats, many men would have been happy to let a young, pretty, and seemingly delicate girl board first, showing their better nature. But at times like these, young and delicate women became their primary targets to push aside.

Other men were physically advantageous and not easily pushed away, and feisty middle-aged women were usually too troublesome to deal with. So they focused their collective effort on pushing away the weak. When a young girl desperately tried to squeeze through, some might think it improper for her to be pressed between two men, her body completely against theirs.

Mu Jing’s posture might have seemed improper to some at this moment, but compared to her purpose, propriety meant nothing! Just as she was about to succeed, someone pulled her down. “Sister, come down and wait a bit.” The person pulling her was a local hooligan. Some people who hadn’t been assigned jobs and didn’t want to go to the countryside for re-education had “lingered” at home. Most of these people were law-abiding ordinary citizens, but a small portion drifted through society, taking pleasure in harassing girls. Seeing Mu Jing so willing to squeeze against men without regard for propriety, they thought they’d found a kindred spirit and deliberately pulled her down to get friendly. Some weren’t even twenty, and unable to guess Mu Jing’s age, called her “sister.”

Mu Jing had only one older brother, who was so devoted to the country’s cause that he couldn’t even visit his brother in the hospital—how dare these hooligans try to claim such a relationship! Now, because of these thugs, she couldn’t go see her brother who was hospitalized after saving someone. With nowhere to vent her fury, she spat and began cursing.

She had never uttered a vulgar word in her life—not when people bullied her because of her parents’ background, not when her first love broke up with her, not even when she couldn’t care for her hospitalized brother. Now it all came pouring out at once. Some of her curses were learned from the most sharp-tongued people in her current city, so vicious that even the hooligans who had pulled her down were shocked. Others were in her hometown dialect—though her tormentors couldn’t understand, they knew these were bitter, venomous words.

They even forgot to curse back, having never seen such a fierce girl, especially one with such a delicate face. She cursed while continuing to push her way up desperately. Her ferocity frightened not only the hooligans who had pulled her down but also others trying to board the train. They unconsciously made way for her, and that’s how Mu Jing got on.

She had no seat and stood squeezed between the rows of seats. Her previous display had been so shocking that everyone in the carriage couldn’t help but cast curious glances her way, wondering how this seemingly quiet and proper girl could curse like a local thug. When Mu Jing looked back, those gazes quickly retreated, afraid she might unleash more shocking words.

Under these avoiding glances, Mu Jing’s sense of shame found its way back. She wondered how she had become like that moments ago. Her eyes reddened uncontrollably, and she tilted her head back, trying to keep the tears from falling. She knew she must have looked terrible earlier, but if she had merely tried to maintain appearances, she would never have gotten on the train. She had to board that train.

Getting on was difficult, but standing on the train wasn’t easy either. Many people had standing tickets, and she was squeezed to the point where she couldn’t even find a place to put her feet. Having used up all her strength to board the train, and having skipped breakfast, she was now standing purely on willpower.

Gradually, that willpower began to fade, and Mu Jing’s consciousness became fuzzy. When she regained awareness, she was lying in a sleeper compartment.

The first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was a tall, thin, refined-looking man—that was her first encounter with Zhai Hua. Her carriage had been packed with people and their various odors—hair oil, sweat, and machine oil on clothes. She had these smells on herself too, picked up while squeezing onto the train. The mixture of scents nearly suffocated her, yet the man before her maintained his dignity and the faint scent of antiseptic on his clothes. Mu Jing guessed he was a doctor who had left in a hurry, removing his white coat but unable to shed its characteristic smell.

Mu Jing didn’t know if he had seen her undignified cursing through his glasses, but he must have smelled the machine oil and other absorbed odors on her. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she stood up from the bed. The man asked her to lie down a bit longer—it was his berth.

Only then did he tell her that she had fainted earlier, but was fine now, though she should take some sugar as a precaution. His tone was very doctor-like.

He told Mu Jing his surname was Zhai, so she addressed him as Doctor Zhai. Her voice was a bit hoarse from the earlier cursing.

Thinking that she would never see Doctor Zhai again after getting off the train and that he might have witnessed her hysterical behavior, maintaining dignity now might only make him think she was mentally unstable. She simply ate his compressed biscuits without any pretense, while gulping down the sugary water he had prepared. She needed energy to stand for another ten-plus hours, during which she could only choose between standing on her tiptoes or heels—a true test of her endurance.

She choked while drinking the sugar water, and Doctor Zhai told her not to rush, saying he had gotten several spoonfuls of sugar from the conductor.

“That’s enough, no more needed,” Mu Jing said. After finishing the compressed biscuits, she took money and food ration tickets from her bag to give to Doctor Zhai.

Doctor Zhai refused her money and ration tickets, but Mu Jing insisted on giving them to him—she couldn’t accept his food for free. During their back and forth, their fingers touched. His were indeed a doctor’s hands: long, pale, and still carrying a faint smell of antiseptic. When giving the money, Mu Jing showed her fierce side again, grabbing Doctor Zhai’s hand and stuffing the money and ration tickets into it. Without giving him time to react, she grabbed her bag and prepared to return to her original carriage.

Only when picking up her bag did Mu Jing notice its zipper had broken. Inside was a Western art album she had gone to great trouble to find for her brother. Fei Ni had said her brother was awake but had lost his memory and told her to bring things that might trigger his memories. She had covered the art album with a wrapper labeled “Advanced Mathematics.” The Western art album contained many elements that went against current social attitudes.

If this Zhai person opened the cover and discovered the true contents, what if he reported her? True conservatives might think she was an indecent woman, worthy of being called a female hooligan. And to real thugs or educated degenerates, they might think her conduct was loose and she would be an easy target. Thinking of this, her briefly relaxed mood immediately tensed up again.

“Your bag’s zipper was already broken when I saw it.”

Years of cultivated vigilance meant Mu Jing didn’t completely trust Doctor Zhai’s explanation, but since he had said so, she could only respond, “This zipper isn’t sturdy.”

“Are you studying mathematics?”

Mu Jing cautiously replied, “Just interested in it.”

She refused to reveal any information about her identity, and when Doctor Zhai later asked about her destination, she lied about that too.

“You don’t need to leave. I’m getting off soon. Go get a sleeper ticket from the conductor for this berth—I’ve already arranged it. Though I told the conductor you were going to the terminal station. From your accent, you sound like you’re from there.”

Zhai Hua had recognized her accent before she woke up, which meant he must have heard her cursing. Those words were too vulgar—she didn’t even want to recall them now.

Doctor Zhai’s kindness far exceeded Mu Jing’s expectations. Letting her, who had fainted, lie on his berth was within the normal range of a good person’s actions, but for this stranger to have already arranged a sleeper ticket for her went beyond both her expectations and understanding. Of course, there were kind people, but Doctor Zhai didn’t seem like one—he appeared cold toward people, and his icy glasses enhanced that sense of detachment.

Seeing Mu Jing’s confusion, Doctor Zhai explained, “You remind me of someone I know.”

From anyone else, this would have sounded like a pickup line, but coming from Doctor Zhai, Mu Jing found it hard not to believe it was true. She wanted to believe it was true, rather than an attempt to pry information from her.

Doctor Zhai pulled the curtain closed for her, telling her to rest a while longer. He would soon reach his stop and needed to head to the exit. After Zhai Hua left, Mu Jing immediately pulled out the art album she had brought for her brother. She detected a faint antiseptic smell on it—very faint, but she smelled it. There was also a New Year’s card tucked in the album, with a drawing by her and writing by her brother, signed with her older brother’s name.

Her older brother had been called a prodigy since childhood, mastering middle school physics and chemistry while still in elementary school, but his handwriting and drawing were poor. Even for writing New Year’s cards to friends, he needed help from his younger siblings. Unlike her brother, she didn’t ask for favors in return for helping with the cards—she was happy to help. Her brother’s price was childish—just asking their older brother to teach him how to make fireworks. Over the years, whenever she saw this card, she would remember the days when their family was together. Now her family was scattered, and her brother lay in the hospital.

But she had no time for sentimentality now. That man had seen her brother’s art album, and the New Year’s card bore her older brother’s name. This book was a liability that had to go, no matter what. She wrapped the album in clothes and went to the train’s bathroom. The album eventually fell through the window into the crops below. She closed her eyes, looking at the New Year’s card in her hand as tears fell.

When she came out of the bathroom, her tears had dried. She took her documentation to the conductor to buy a ticket. Throughout it all, she never asked the conductor the name of the previous occupant of this berth—she only knew his surname was Zhai. She just prayed she would never see him again, even though she had destroyed the evidence. When she returned, she found an extra package of compressed biscuits on the bed. Perhaps because she had eaten so hurriedly earlier, Doctor Zhai had seen her as starving and left her a package.

Lying on the sleeper berth, Mu Jing thought that man must not have lain here—she couldn’t smell any antiseptic.

Even after getting off at the terminal station, Mu Jing never encountered anyone coming to trouble her. Perhaps she had been too suspicious of a gentleman’s good intentions.

That person must have been very important to him, for him to be so thoughtful just because of a resemblance.

As for other matters concerning Doctor Zhai, Mu Jing didn’t dwell on them. The most important thing now was seeing her brother.

Since formally severing ties with her parents on paper, Mu Jing could only secretly mail things to them through her brother. She and her brother hadn’t been particularly close before, but blood ties were peculiar that way—some things didn’t need words to be understood. Besides food, she had sent Fang Muyang both a pair of women’s and men’s shoes, only writing in her letter that they were for him.

Fang Muyang never asked why she sent women’s shoes, or why the men’s shoes were the wrong size. His next letter simply said the shoes fit perfectly and he had cried with joy upon receiving them. She knew then that her brother had forwarded the shoes to their parents because the shoes wouldn’t have fit him at all, nor would he have cried with joy over them. She trusted her brother would keep the food for himself—her third brother had always been good at taking care of himself.

She never imagined that her self-sufficient brother would end up in the hospital. She hadn’t cried when she received the news, hadn’t cried when she saw him in the hospital, but she cried on the return train journey. Her brother lay unconscious in the hospital, and she had to return to work because her background meant she faced constant testing at her workplace. This time she came because Fei Ni called to say Fang Muyang had awakened but hadn’t recovered his memory.

The art album she brought had been thrown out the window due to her caution. Now all she had for her brother was an old New Year’s card. Her brother smiled at the card and said he wanted to go home, but what home was there? Her brother was sick, she had completely cut contact with their parents, and as for her older brother—his work consumed him so much he couldn’t even care for his own family, how could she let her sister-in-law know? Of a family of five, only she could visit him, and just visit at that.

She talked with her brother about the past, but with Fei Ni listening, she only spoke about how he had opposed their parents during their reformation, proving he had always stood on the correct side. Fei Ni probably sensed her insincerity and took the initiative to close the window, saying she needed to buy something outside and wouldn’t be back for a while, and that the nurses wouldn’t come in during the afternoon either. She closed the door, leaving the siblings space to reminisce.

Only then did Mu Jing bring up the days when all five family members were together. Though not perfect, there were more joys than sorrows, and her brother had always been so happy then. Even when troubles found him, he never took them seriously.

She touched her brother’s hand, examining his fingers, and could tell Fei Ni had taken good care of him, but Fei Ni couldn’t care for him forever.

Mu Jing’s brief visit had completely failed to awaken her brother’s memories, but time was up, and she had to leave. She looked at Fang Muyang’s new clothes, then at Fei Ni, whose clothes had been washed white, and who was even thinner than during her last visit. Fei Ni had already endured so much caring for her brother; how could she spend Fei Ni’s money too? She took out the two hundred yuan and national food ration tickets she had brought to give to Fei Ni, who refused them, but she insisted. This was all she could do for her brother. As for anything more, she was powerless.

On the return journey, Mu Jing was more composed than before. It wasn’t as crowded, and she had gotten a seat ticket, but her mood was even worse than when she had come. Then, she still held hope for her brother’s recovery.

With five stops remaining until her destination, her seatmate changed. The man sitting next to her took off his shoes to rest his feet, producing an unpleasant odor. She thought he would put them back on shortly and, preferring to avoid conflict, chose to remain silent. But as they approached the next station, her neighbor was still barefoot.

“Please put your shoes back on,” Mu Jing finally said.

The man acted as if he hadn’t heard, remaining barefoot.

“This is a public space, not your home.”

“It’s not your home either. If I want to take off my shoes, what business is it of yours? You’re taking yourself too seriously—why are you the only one complaining out of all these people? If you don’t like it, take yours off too.”

This time Mu Jing didn’t curse—she wasn’t good at it; her earlier outburst had been purely reactive.

“If you don’t plan to put your shoes back on, I suggest you change seats. Why don’t you ask who’s willing to sit next to someone barefoot?”

Following Mu Jing’s suggestion, the man put his shoes on but changed his posture, crossing his legs so his shoe pressed against Mu Jing’s pants as if to say, “You wanted me to wear shoes? Well, I’m wearing them now—are you satisfied?”

Just as Mu Jing was about to get up to find the conductor, she heard a voice say, “If you don’t want to sit there, I’m willing to switch places with you.”

Mu Jing turned to see Doctor Zhai. He was also in the sleeper car for this return journey. He told Mu Jing his seat number, offering to exchange places.

By any measure, this wasn’t a fair exchange. Mu Jing refused.

At this point, her seatmate spoke up: “What’s your problem? First, you make a fuss about me moving, and now you won’t leave—what exactly do you want? Could it be that you…”

Mu Jing’s temper flared. “If you continue like this, I’ll call the train police.”

“You think the train police have nothing better to do than…”

Before he could finish, Mu Jing heard a crack. Though Doctor Zhai wasn’t an orthopedist, he knew how to dislocate joints.

Then Mu Jing heard Doctor Zhai say, “Go to my spot. I’ll give him some treatment.”

Mu Jing got the message and walked to the sleeper compartment. She didn’t sit on the berth but found a chair instead. After a while, she saw Doctor Zhai come to get his luggage.

His luggage was simple—just one bag, not even full.

Naturally, Mu Jing didn’t want to occupy his spot, but she also didn’t want to return to her original carriage. “You rest on the berth. I’ll just sit here for a while—there are only four stops left anyway.” After speaking, Mu Jing realized the problem with her words—it seemed somewhat unnecessary for Doctor Zhai to buy a sleeper ticket for just five stops, but she didn’t correct herself, just looked at the scenery outside.

Her brother had once given her a picture of scenery outside a window, but she had never really looked at it properly herself.

After a while, Mu Jing finally thought to ask Doctor Zhai’s name.

“Zhai Hua. And you?”

“Fang Mu Jing.” Even just her name made it impossible to separate herself from her parents.

“Are you in the Mathematics Department?”

Mu Jing made an affirmative sound. She was in Computational Mathematics, not Pure Mathematics—that was the major her mother had chosen for her. In her mother’s view, career choices should primarily consider the needs of the times and the country. Pure Mathematics belonged to a gifted few; even if Mu Jing had done basic mathematical research, she would only be lost in the crowd, becoming just another denominator, her work unable to directly benefit social production.

But Computational Mathematics, as an emerging field domestically at the time, made it relatively easier to achieve results, and research findings could benefit the country in the short term. Yet life is unpredictable—after graduation, she was assigned to teach as an assistant professor in a normal college’s mathematics department.

Of course, being able to stay at school and work was already good fortune; her brother didn’t even have the chance to attend school. Compared to her and her older brother, their parents had no particular plans for their younger brother, saying, “Being a worker who paints in his spare time would be fine enough.”

Thinking of her brother, even the beautiful scenery outside couldn’t lift Mu Jing’s spirits. When her brother was conscious, she felt she still had a family. She not only wrote letters to him but could also indirectly maintain contact with their parents. She would send things to her brother, who would forward them to their parents. Sometimes her brother would send her things too, and without Fang Muyang telling her, she knew which items were from him and which were forwarded from their parents.

The sunlight outside was beautiful, but Mu Jing remained shrouded in gloom. After a long while, she realized Zhai Hua was watching her. She remembered him saying she reminded him of someone he knew. Probably not when she was cursing, but when she was quiet.

She broke their silence, asking Zhai Hua, “Are you traveling for work?”

“To perform a surgery.”

Truly accomplished at such a young age, skilled enough for hospitals across regions to specially invite him. His sleeper ticket was probably bought by others too. His background must have been good for him to become a key technical expert so early.

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