Dr. Chen from the neurosurgery department noticed that Dr. Qu from their department had downgraded his cigarettes from Zhonghua to Da Qianmen. Though Dr. Chen had anticipated some changes after Dr. Qu’s marriage, the rapid decline still surprised him. If things were already like this after just a few months of marriage, Dr. Chen worried that within a year, Dr. Qu might not have any cigarettes left to smoke. When Qu Hua tried to share his cigarettes again, Dr. Chen felt too embarrassed to accept. It wasn’t because the cigarettes were inferior—his own was much worse—but because he genuinely felt that Qu Hua’s good days were numbered and he should save some cigarettes and money for himself.
However, Qu Hua seemed oblivious to this reality. He still kept money and food coupons in his drawer for anyone to take. When he was single, others would spend his money without rushing to pay him back. His monthly salary and various allowances were much higher than others, and since he spent most of his time in the operating room and ate mainly in the cafeteria, he had few expenses. But now that his cigarettes had been downgraded, people who borrowed his money hurried to repay him, worried he might need it.
After this, Qu Hua visited Mu Jing once more. The branch school was involved in developing a minicomputer at the machinery factory, and Mu Jing had been working with her research group on designing the compilation system. When Qu Hua arrived, she was in the middle of the final pre-production discussion meeting, which had already gone on for five hours without a conclusion. Qu Hua had surgery scheduled for the next morning and couldn’t wait any longer. He left his items with the reception room attendant, and as he was leaving a message for Mu Jing, he happened to meet a student who was doing factory work training at the branch school. She shared a dormitory with Mu Jing and knew that Qu Hua was Mu Jing’s husband, as Mu Jing had shared things he had sent before. She offered to take the items to their dormitory. Seeing the cream cake in Qu Hua’s hands, she could tell at a glance where it was from—bought before boarding the train and carried all the way. She asked if he had any messages for Mu Jing. Qu Hua thanked her and quickly wrote a note, folding it for her to pass to Mu Jing. Judging by his writing speed, it was probably just a simple “happy birthday” message.
The dormitory mate, having already received Qu Hua’s thanks, waited for Mu Jing to return to give her the items and note. However, she didn’t see Mu Jing until noon the next day. Mu Jing had spent the entire night in the laboratory, and when she finally came to the dormitory, her eyes were bloodshot but remarkably bright, her whole face radiating excitement. However, when she saw the cake and note, her expression suddenly changed. Reading the note, Mu Jing remembered that yesterday had been her birthday.
She stared at the cake in a daze before cutting it and devouring her piece in large bites. Her dormitory mate had never seen Mu Jing eat like this—even when eating dried sweet potatoes, she was usually much more elegant. With cake crumbs at the corners of her mouth, large tears began to fall. For years, she hadn’t celebrated her birthday, feeling that she had failed to meet her mother’s expectations. Her mother had never blamed her for cutting ties with the family, instead feeling that she had held Mu Jing back. Over the years, they had occasionally communicated through her brother, with her mother always encouraging her to persevere. Several times, she had almost given up, watching her ideals slip away, thinking it might be better to live near her parents, at least then she wouldn’t be alone. Every birthday, she especially hated herself. This year she could finally celebrate properly, yet she had forgotten about it entirely. Her dormitory mate, who had never seen Mu Jing show such emotion before, stood speechless, unable to find words of comfort.
After a while, Mu Jing finally noticed someone standing beside her. She hurriedly shared the cake. She knew this bakery well and thought about how he had carried it all this way for her.
Along with the cake were two bulging bags. Opening them, she saw various food items and daily necessities. Thinking of Qu Hua, she recalled that during their time living together, she hadn’t noticed him being particularly meticulous about life, yet he had thought of everything she might need in such detail.
Having been awake for over thirty hours, she forced her heavy eyelids open and rushed to call Qu Hua. The person who answered told her that Dr. Qu was in surgery, and asked if she had any message to pass on. She said, “Thank you.” She said it twice—once for Qu Hua and once for the person relaying the message. After hanging up, Mu Jing realized how foolish she must have seemed, as the person probably thought both “thank yous” were meant for them.
However, Mu Jing had no time to dwell on whether her message had been properly conveyed, as after a brief rest, she returned to work.
On the day the computer was successfully manufactured, they borrowed some instruments from the propaganda team for a small celebration. Old Wu knew Mu Jing could play guitar and asked her to play and sing for everyone. Though rusty from years without practice, nobody cared about her performance as they were all caught up in the joy of their achievement. She gradually found her rhythm and sang along with everyone.
Looking up, she saw the full moon and wondered when her family would be reunited again.
A day later, she learned from the reception room attendant that Qu Hua had called several times. She immediately called back, and after being asked to wait, she heard his voice. She had wanted to thank him again and ask him not to send her any more things. She knew he would never spend his family’s money, and like her, only had his salary to live on, with just a bit extra from allowances.
However, when Qu Hua answered, her first words were about the successful manufacture of the computer they had helped develop. Then she heard someone urgently calling for “Dr. Qu,” and she quickly said, “Go ahead, you’re needed.”
After hanging up, she realized she hadn’t said any of what she had intended to. Calling back seemed pointless now—whether at home or the hospital, it was hard to express everything properly over the phone. Those words of gratitude seemed inadequate when transmitted through a receiver. She wrote to her brother about the successful manufacture of the minicomputer and its upcoming mass production. The letter was meant for her brother but also for her parents, and she enclosed some money, knowing her brother would pass it on to their parents.
Sealing the envelope, her thoughts turned to Qu Hua, feeling she should finish what she couldn’t say on the phone. She wrote him a short note, saying she had received the cake and enjoyed it. The rest was just to tell him she was fine, everything was available here, and he shouldn’t spend money on her anymore. She didn’t mention the successful manufacturer again, having already told him, and not wanting to seem boastful, though that wouldn’t have been wrong either. Sending the letter, she didn’t expect a reply. Following her habit, if she had wanted a response, she would have enclosed a stamp.
She received a reply anyway. Regarding her concerns, Qu Hua simply stated he had savings and moved on. The letter focused on the language compilation system she had helped design, saying he had told his parents about it and they were all proud of her. In the end, he included a statistics-related question for her advice, along with a stamp for her reply.
Two packages arrived with the letter, which Qu Hua said were insisted upon by his parents and had nothing to do with him.
The problem wasn’t particularly difficult; Mu Jing solved it during her lunch break and wrote back during her evening rest period. After providing the answer, she asked about his parents and grandmother’s health, ending with a brief note to Qu Hua to take care of himself, nothing more.
They began corresponding frequently, mostly with him asking questions and her providing answers to problems that weren’t too simple but which she could solve after some thought. They shared some casual news too—Qu Hua would mention his surgeries briefly, and Mu Jing would touch on her work, though neither went into much detail.
Every time Qu Hua wrote to her, he included a stamp in the envelope.
When winter came, Mu Jing sat writing to Qu Hua by lamplight, wearing the cotton coat he had sent, with wood shavings burning in the stove. Their coal ration was limited and had to be used sparingly. Writing on the lamplight wearing the coat he had sent, she didn’t feel cold at all. In her letter, she told him that the successfully manufactured computer had gone into mass production. She had returned to school and was now contemplating computer language structure.
The day she went to mail the letter, she received one from Qu Hua saying he was coming to visit her.
After some thought, she didn’t put a stamp on her letter, deciding to tell him what she wanted to say in person.