Since they began corresponding by mail, they had stopped using the telephone. Near Spring Festival, one day the reception room attendant found Mu Jing to tell her that her spouse had called. Thinking it must be urgent, Mu Jing skipped lunch and ran to return the call, only to find it wasn’t urgent at all. Qu Hua was asking when she would return home so he could buy her tickets.
Mu Jing said she could buy them herself, but Qu Hua was stubborn about this matter. Three days later, she received express sleeper tickets that he had sent.
Mu Jing didn’t go home. The branch school was involved in developing a communication system, and there were unresolved data error correction issues. Mu Jing had voluntarily joined this project. While she was firm in her decision not to return to the Qu family home, when it came to telling Qu Hua, she hesitated. Since she’d moved to the branch school, it had always been Qu Hua who came to see her. This time she had agreed to return home, and he had even sent the tickets, yet she wasn’t going. Qu Hua would surely be upset with her—even she felt she was being a bit unreasonable. But there was no choice; she had more important things to do.
Before making the call, she had mentally prepared herself, but when she told Qu Hua, the long silence that followed was almost unbearable. Then she heard someone calling for Dr. Qu, and she quickly said, “Go ahead with your work, I’ll hang up.”
On New Year’s Eve, Mu Jing had dinner with several colleagues who had also stayed at school. Several cans on the table were ones Qu Hua had brought her before, and half a preserved duck had been mailed to her by her brother and sister-in-law. A New Year’s card had come with the duck. Her brother still thought she was with her former boyfriend and had sent him a card too. Sometimes she wanted to tell her brother about her marriage to Qu Hua, but she wasn’t sure how long this marriage would last. Getting married only to divorce would just worry her family. Starting a long-distance relationship before establishing any real emotional connection—this marriage was precarious. After dinner, Mu Jing returned to the laboratory. That night, her mind was occupied with data, and whenever other thoughts intruded, she would gulp down tea to suppress them.
On New Year’s Day, the postman was working just like her. She received a New Year’s card and a package from Qu Hua. After wishing the postman a happy New Year, she took the package back to her dormitory. Her roommate had gone home, and their coal ration was used up, leaving only wood shavings. Since she spent most of her time in the laboratory, she hadn’t bothered to light the stove, leaving the room cold and damp.
The package wasn’t as large as the previous ones. Opening it, Mu Jing found it full of candy—chocolate, milk candy, fruit hard candy… She unwrapped a milk candy and chewed it, unable to remember when she had last eaten candy. The New Year’s card was simple, just wishing her a happy new year. She took a pen and traced over Qu Hua’s characters stroke by stroke.
She should have sent him a New Year’s card too, but there was still the Lantern Festival. Mu Jing wrote him a card wishing him a happy Lantern Festival. Calculating the mailing time, she waited a few days before posting it so it would arrive on the day of the festival.
Qu Hua came without notifying Mu Jing. He arrived at noon, and Mu Jing’s roommate, seeing him, let him in directly and offered to call Mu Jing. Qu Hua said he would go himself, but the roommate politely insisted, “I’m going that way anyway, you wait here.” Once, when her family member had visited, it had rained heavily at night making it impossible to go to the guest house, and Mu Jing had automatically given up her room, saying she would squeeze in with others. Later, the roommate learned that Mu Jing had spent the entire night in the laboratory. Now when Mu Jing’s family came to visit, she naturally wanted to return the favor.
Mu Jing stood at the door, tidied her hair, then pushed it open. The room was unheated, and the door was locked in the cold air. She smiled apologetically and poured him a cup of water, but before handing it over, she poured it out and used her roommate’s thermos instead. Her thermos still contained water from several days ago—she was so absorbed in her work that she had become careless about daily life. She made a mental note to fill both thermoses when it was time to get water.
Instead of asking why he hadn’t told her he was coming, she said, “After lunch, you should wait for me at the guest house. It’s a bit cold here.”
Neither mentioned her not returning for the New Year. Qu Hua didn’t tell Mu Jing that he had planned to take the early train on New Year’s Day to see her but had been delayed by surgery.
Qu Hua held Mu Jing’s reddened hands, obviously cold from the temperature. Mu Jing tried to pull away—her fingers were cracked from dryness, surely feeling rough. She usually didn’t notice but felt self-conscious in front of Qu Hua. Qu Hua rubbed her hands in his palms, asking, “Why are your hands so cold?”
He had her take out the clam oil he had sent her earlier and rubbed it into her hands repeatedly. Her initially cold hands grew warmer and warmer. Hearing the door, Mu Jing quickly pulled her hands back and, facing the door, said to Qu Hua, “Let me take you to eat.”
It was just the wind moving the door; no one was there.
Qu Hua had applied too much clam oil to her hands, making it awkward for her to hold chopsticks. The two sat facing each other in the cafeteria, Mu Jing eating with her head down. Sensing Qu Hua’s gaze, she said quietly, “We’re in the cafeteria.” She immediately regretted saying it—yes, they were in the cafeteria, but they weren’t doing anything improper, he was just looking at her.
Qu Hua said, “I know,” implying he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Mu Jing didn’t look up at him, continuing to eat. The meal proceeded slowly. When Mu Jing finished, she walked Qu Hua out of the cafeteria, saying, “Go to the guest house, I’ll find you after work.”
They stood facing each other, both probably waiting for the other to leave first. Finally, Mu Jing said, “I’m going to the laboratory.”
Qu Hua nodded but remained standing there. Mu Jing glanced around, then turned first. After walking a few steps, she looked back to find Qu Hua still standing there. Their eyes met, and Mu Jing turned away, walking quickly forward. Her hands in her pockets felt sticky, hot, and burning.
Because Qu Hua had come to see her, she abandoned her plans to work overtime that evening. Mu Jing was someone who never took weekends off, and her group never worried about her neglecting work.
Mu Jing returned to her dormitory to change clothes and saw a pile of freshly pressed coal briquettes at the door, then saw Qu Hua’s face. Despite the cold, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he cleaned up the coal-pressing residue. Their monthly coal ration was limited, and once used up, they had to burn wood shavings.
Mu Jing remembered the bags she had seen at the door earlier—they were coal powder. Qu Hua had pressed them into briquettes for her, now neatly arranged at the door. She wouldn’t need to burn wood shavings anymore.
“It’s so cold outside, come in quickly.” Mu Jing wanted to pour some hot water for Qu Hua to wash his hands, but before opening the thermos, she remembered it was empty. She poured some from her roommate’s thermos into her basin and wrung out a towel for Qu Hua to wipe his hands. Qu Hua held out both hands, showing Mu Jing the coal dust, “I’ll wash outside, don’t dirty your towel.”
“Use this to wash, the water outside is too cold.” Mu Jing handed him the soap and stood by with the towel, waiting to help him dry his hands.
The coal dust on his hands soon turned the basin water black. Mu Jing gave him the towel and went to pour out the water. When she returned, without looking at him, she put the towel back in the basin, poured hot water, used soap to wash the towel once, wrung it out, and handed it to him, saying, “Wash your face too.”
After handing him the towel, Mu Jing went to pour him more hot water.
“Don’t fuss.”
Mu Jing handed the cup to Qu Hua, and he brushed her hair behind her ear, studying her face. It had been a long time since they’d last met, and finally, he had a chance to look at her. He didn’t miss any detail, his face drawing closer and closer to Mu Jing’s. She lowered her head, saying, “We’ve used up someone else’s water, I need to go get more.”
“I’ll go,” Qu Hua took the thermos from her hands and went to fetch water.
On the bus, Mu Jing looked out the window, neither making eye contact nor speaking with Qu Hua beside her.
At the guest house, Mu Jing showed their marriage certificate, and they entered a bedroom.
This time, Mu Jing could finally relax and be looked at. Neither turned on the lights, seeing each other in the dim light from outside. Mu Jing leaned against the door, Qu Hua holding her face as she met his gaze. In certain safer moments, she wasn’t a shy person—like now. Strangely, though they had been married for so many days, she had never really looked at him properly, only vaguely feeling that he met her aesthetic standards.
They examined each other, Mu Jing’s hands pressed against the door as she tilted her head up to look at Qu Hua—a pose that could be interpreted as either challenging or desiring a kiss. Qu Hua chose the latter interpretation and moved to kiss her. Mu Jing seemed to remember something and pressed her fingers to his lips, saying, “I’ll close the curtains.”
Qu Hua teased her, “Why close the curtains to cook tangyuan? But if you want to, go ahead.”
Mu Jing turned away, not looking at him, “Aren’t we past the Lantern Festival?”
“But isn’t today when we’re finally reunited?”
Though the Lantern Festival had passed, Qu Hua insisted on making tangyuan for her. He borrowed an alcohol stove from the guest house and cooked them in a lunch box. Qu Hua brought a cooked tangyuan to Mu Jing’s lips.
“I can eat by myself.”
“Then eat this one first.”
Mu Jing took a small bite, and Qu Hua helped her finish the remaining large portion of the tangyuan.
Although they had shared intimate moments, sharing a single tangyuan made her feel more uncomfortable than sleeping together. It felt somehow more significant.
She also felt uncomfortable when Qu Hua applied face cream to her body after their bath. Unable to find another reason to refuse, she could only say, “This is too wasteful.” Using face cream on her body, especially as meticulously as he was applying it, would empty the bottle quickly. Besides, except for her exposed hands and face, her skin wasn’t dry.
“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t use it at all.” He had discovered that she was indeed proud, but her pride didn’t extend to her face and body, which she treated with such casual neglect that he found it excessive. He rubbed her hands between his palms—he had sent her clam oil to apply, yet she had let her hands crack from the cold without concern.
He applied the cream thickly, yet her skin still showed a layer of flush. Seeing Mu Jing truly embarrassed now, Qu Hua realized he had misinterpreted her previous shows of shyness. As revenge for earlier, he deliberately extended the time she felt embarrassed. Mu Jing seemed to notice his intentional teasing and took the initiative to kiss him, leaving him no time for anything else.
Qu Hua was considerate of her having to work tomorrow, leaving marks only where her clothes would cover during the day. Her hands hovered over his hair without touching it, and she struggled to turn on the light. Under the harsh light, she looked directly into Qu Hua’s eyes, “I don’t like Renoir’s paintings, and I’m nothing like the people in them.”
“I know.” He had never understood her better than at this moment. Although she had hidden away that pride that could burn others, it would emerge at inappropriate times. She was completely different from the young women in those paintings, regardless of age.
In the light, her face was exceptionally clear. He had always liked looking at her face at such times when her expressions were most genuine. He watched her face as he slowly entered her body, deliberately slowing his pace to capture her expressions. Mu Jing closed her eyes, biting her lower lip, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. Qu Hua’s fingers pried open her lips, and she opened her eyes to find him studying her. She disliked being observed, especially when he had the leisure to do so at such a moment. Mu Jing bit his finger hard, giving him a sidelong glance—there was a hint of coquettishness in her defiance, though she didn’t realize it. But she achieved her goal; he no longer had the leisure to observe her.
By the time the notice came that Mu Jing’s department would be moving back to the main campus, Qu Hua had written her enough letters to fill half a drawer. In their letters, besides discussing mathematics problems, they talked about other things, and Mu Jing would voluntarily mention her parents to Qu Hua. But she hadn’t mentioned Qu Hua to her mother. If she transferred back to her hometown, facing the risk of another long-distance relationship with Qu Hua, she wasn’t sure he would want to maintain their marriage indefinitely.
She had been in relationships before and had broken up before; she had no expectations of permanence. She only told her parents that she and her former boyfriend had split up long ago, never mentioning Qu Hua. If this relationship also ended, it would only add to their worries.
Mu Jing was among the first group to return to the main campus, and her position was confirmed as soon as the notice came. Qu Hua, having received advance notice, went to the branch school to pick her up, arriving before she had finished packing. Her roommate was still away visiting family.
Mu Jing had already organized and locked important work-related documents in her briefcase; what remained were clothes, daily necessities, books, and letters. Organizing these didn’t require professional knowledge. She packed her clothes while Qu Hua organized her books and letters. She trusted him completely, including that he wouldn’t read letters that weren’t addressed to him. But Mu Jing had forgotten one thing: her brother’s New Year’s card wasn’t in an envelope, and Qu Hua could see it without trying.
Mu Jing tentatively brought up her mother’s wish for her to transfer back home. Her mother had already contacted local universities and asked for her opinion; she said she needed time to consider. It wasn’t that her parents needed her—they not only had her younger brother who had never cut ties with them but also countless old friends. She needed them; she had been too lonely these years. While Qu Hua provided comfort, it was far from permanent.
She wanted to hear Qu Hua’s opinion. If he wanted to transfer back with her, it wouldn’t be difficult given his qualifications. If he strongly urged her to stay, she could discuss past matters with him; otherwise, even feeling jealous would be unjustified…
Of course, she thought both possibilities were unlikely.
Qu Hua asked in return, “What do you think?” His gaze fixed on the New Year’s card where her brother wished her former boyfriend a happy new year. By then, he and Mu Jing were married, and their relationship wasn’t bad—she had agreed to return home for the New Year, though she later changed her mind. He also knew that Mu Jing corresponded frequently with her brother; if she hadn’t written all year, not knowing about him would have been understandable.
“I want to be closer to my parents.” She said this with difficulty, feeling like she was burning bridges. After being separated for so long, just when they could finally be together, she wanted to move elsewhere.
Mu Jing caught Qu Hua’s fleeting smile and could guess what he was thinking: after no contact with your parents for so many years, now you want to be closer to them.
But he said nothing and Mu Jing was grateful he left her with her dignity.
Mu Jing turned to look at Qu Hua, who was holding the New Year’s card. Her smile froze briefly before quickly recovering. She walked over and took it with her fingers, asking Qu Hua, “My brother’s drawing isn’t bad, right?” It was too well done to throw away at the time, and then she had forgotten about it.
Qu Hua knew her former boyfriend’s name, though Mu Jing thought he didn’t. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask, “Does your family know I exist?” After being married for so long, such questions seemed pointless, and if the answer was no, even more so. Previously, when he had suggested sending gifts to her parents, she had changed the subject, and the matter had dropped.
Mu Jing said to Qu Hua, “Take a break, I’ll pack by myself.”
Mu Jing noticed the change in Qu Hua’s expression, sensing his displeasure, though it didn’t stop him from carrying her suitcase. Of their two train tickets—one sleeper and one hard seat—Qu Hua gave the sleeper to Mu Jing and went to another carriage.
Mu Jing tried to stop him, “Stay here and rest a while.”
“It’s not a long ride.” Qu Hua said nothing more and went to the other carriage. He was suppressing his temper; if he didn’t control himself, he wasn’t sure what hurtful words might come out, words that couldn’t be taken back once spoken.
The driver came to pick them up, and Qu Hua put Mu Jing’s luggage in the car. After she got in, he closed the door for her.
Mu Jing asked where he was going.
“Back to the hospital.”
As the car gradually disappeared from his sight, Qu Hua jumped on a bus to the hospital. He had outpatient consultations in the afternoon and night duty that evening.
Mu Jing had brought gifts for everyone at home, including the attendant Xiao Qin. Qu Hua’s family was naturally happy to see her—it wasn’t right for a young married couple to live apart. They didn’t know about her plans.
Returning to the bedroom, Mu Jing found it largely unchanged from when she left. Although she wasn’t there, Qu Hua had still left half of his wardrobe space for her.