Fang Muyang was holding an ice cream container when he froze in surprise, causing his spoon to slip and fall to the ground. Fei Ni pulled out her spoon from her lunchbox and handed it to him. Fei Ni quickly withdrew her hand as their fingers brushed against each other. She lowered her head, looking at Fang Muyang’s shadow on the ground, and said softly, “Think about it some more and give me your answer tomorrow. If you have another way to get an apartment, just forget I mentioned anything. Even if you can get an apartment, you’ll still need to figure out how to furnish it. If you accept my proposal, I’ll take care of the furniture.”

She didn’t want Fang Muyang to choose any other option.

“How can I let you handle everything by yourself? It’s not like you’ll be living there alone.”

“Then you need to stop being so extravagant with your spending. There will be plenty of expenses ahead.” Everything costs money from beds and cabinets to tables and chairs, from washbasins to bowls and chopsticks. She didn’t have much savings either and would have to borrow from her parents, paying them back monthly by being frugal. If Fang Muyang could contribute something, that would be good.

Fang Muyang agreed readily.

Fei Ni suddenly realized that Fang Muyang had skipped the agreement stage entirely and moved straight to the next phase.

His quick acceptance left many of Fei Ni’s prepared arguments unused, leading to a brief silence.

Fang Muyang broke the silence: “When should we register our marriage?”

Since Fang Muyang seemed completely normal today, Fei Ni grew suspicious and asked, “How much do you remember about the past?”

“I remember you telling me we were classmates—same class in elementary school, and then the same middle school. We were destined to meet.”

If they had started school just one year earlier, they wouldn’t have had the chance to attend the same middle school. Before the nationwide school closures, most key middle schools in their city separated boys and girls. When children were young and gender awareness wasn’t strong, boys and girls could be desk mates, but they were separated during puberty. Even in co-ed schools, boys and girls had limited interaction, mostly keeping to themselves.

Fei Ni continued asking, “Do you remember anything I haven’t told you about?”

Fang Muyang remembered entrusting all his belongings in a box to Fei Ni before joining the networking movement in another city. It was too dangerous to carry everything with him, and leaving it at home risked theft. Fortunately, Fei Ni had offered to keep it safe. Given her red background, no one would raid her home in the middle of the night, so he entrusted everything to her. Inside the box was an emerald ring, stored in a record sleeve—a gift from his grandmother before she passed away, meant for his future spouse. When Fang Muyang received it, marriage seemed distant; he only kept it because it was from his grandmother. When gathering money for his travels, he had even removed and sold the glass from his window panes, but never considered selling the ring.

After giving it to her, he never saw it again and wondered if the ring still existed. If it did, it could be worn on her finger.

Fang Muyang suddenly changed his tone: “You used to like me very much. Because no one else has ever liked me that way, I’ve always remembered it.”

This wasn’t actually in Fang Muyang’s memory. But Fei Ni was too composed, and he wanted to see her lose that composure, so he couldn’t resist teasing her. Sure enough, his words disrupted her calm.

“That’s not true!”

Fei Ni continued pushing her bicycle forward. The streetlight ahead illuminated her face, revealing her coloring. This man had no shame, how could he make such presumptuous assumptions? He must be confused.

Fei Ni fell silent, but Fang Muyang wouldn’t let it go: “If you didn’t like me, why did you take care of me at the hospital?”

Still in that shameless tone.

“That’s completely different.” Fearing Fang Muyang wouldn’t believe her, she added, “I took care of you because I had consciousness. Don’t vulgarize such matters.”

“Then when did you start liking me?”

Fei Ni responded firmly: “Never. You’re mistaken.”

“If you don’t like me, why are you marrying me?”

Fang Muyang knew seventy percent was for the apartment—even her previous refusal to watch movies with others was for the apartment—but he enjoyed seeing her flustered, especially now, with the streetlight casting a glow that made her face appear even more flushed.

“I need an apartment, and don’t you need one too?”

Fang Muyang wasn’t bothered at all and continued questioning: “I remember that married couples usually share a bed. Why are we separating?”

Fei Ni’s heart skipped several beats when she first heard this question. They had walked into an unlit area, and Fei Ni took advantage of the darkness where Fang Muyang couldn’t see her face, allowing the heat to spread from her ears to her cheeks without concern. Fei Ni knew Fang Muyang was no longer like when he first woke up—after staying in the hospital for so many days, it wasn’t surprising that he understood the fundamental meaning of marriage.

“Others are others, and we are we. Others marry to live together; we’re marrying for an apartment.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“It can’t. The apartment will be half yours, half mine.”

“Alright, whatever you say.”

Fang Muyang thought she trusted him, though he wasn’t sure if this trust came from looking down on herself or him. Then he thought, perhaps she just wanted the apartment so badly that everything else became secondary.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” When Fei Ni looked at their shadows on the ground, she noticed Fang Muyang had been watching her constantly. Being stared at made her skin tingle, and she suddenly realized he was a young man—after dividing the apartment, they would be living together, facing each other day and night. Her face grew even redder, but thankfully the darkness concealed it. The future could wait; at least living with him wouldn’t mean giving up her freedom. Once she had money, she could put a piano in her room and play whatever she wanted, with no one to control her.

Fang Muyang laughed: “If you’re not looking at me, how do you know I’m watching you?”

He was openly observing her in what little light there was, and even without looking at him, Fei Ni could feel it. Her hands gripped the bicycle handles tighter and tighter.

“You must often look at the young nurses.”

“Are you upset?”

“No.”

“To draw people, one needs to observe.”

“Perhaps you took up drawing just so you could observe?”

“That’s an interesting interpretation.”

Fei Ni hadn’t expected him not to deny it, so she warned him: “That was in the past. Nowadays, even if you’re staring at girls just for drawing, it could be considered inappropriate behavior. You should be more careful.”

“If we’re married, I’ll only draw you among women. Surely that won’t be considered inappropriate behavior, no matter how I draw you.”

His words sounded almost jealous, but that wasn’t it at all.

“Draw whoever you want.”

“I insist on drawing you, but you never let anyone look at you. Just a few glances and you get nervous.”

Fei Ni stopped responding to Fang Muyang. After walking a while longer, she realized Fang Muyang was going the wrong way—he needed to take the bus back to the hospital in the opposite direction.

She reminded him, but Fang Muyang said: “I’m walking you home. I’m not comfortable with you going alone.”

“I don’t need that. Hurry back to the hospital, or you won’t be able to get in.” There have been a few security issues in this area in recent years.

“If I can’t get back in, I’ll just sleep outside your building. It’s summer, sleeping outside is quite cool.”

Fei Ni became irritated: “What are you worried about? I’m over twenty.”

“I still worry. If something happens to you, who will I marry? Let me take you back.”

Fang Muyang spoke with complete conviction as if their impending marriage had given him the responsibility and the right to ensure her safety.

“You know how to ride a bicycle now?”

Fei Ni thought that the current Fang Muyang wasn’t much different from a normal person, except for his lost memories. She remained uncertain whether Fang Muyang had recovered his memories but felt that if he had, concealing it wouldn’t benefit him at all.

“I learned from others at the hospital. Come on, get on. I’ll get you there faster.”

Fei Ni finally gave in to Fang Muyang’s insistence and climbed onto the back seat.

The wind rushed down Fang Muyang’s collar, making his shirt billow. Fei Ni tilted her head toward the sky, where various insects were chirping in concert, making the silence feel even more profound. When they passed under streetlights, she noticed that Fang Muyang’s shirt seemed different from before.

“How do you wash your clothes? You’re not jabbing the shirt against the washboard, are you?”

“What’s wrong?”

“If you keep washing them like this, they’ll fall apart in a few washes.”

“Then show me how to do it properly sometime, I’ll learn from you.”

“Figure it out yourself.” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t shown him before. She even suspected Fang Muyang was setting a trap—show him too many times, and washing clothes would become her responsibility.

She couldn’t help but ask: “Haven’t you ever washed clothes before? You must have done your laundry when you were sent down to the countryside.”

He had been washing his clothes since childhood. To channel his boundless energy, his mother had always excluded his clothes when hiring people to do laundry. With no one to help him, he had no choice but to wash them himself. His grandmother’s house had a washing machine, but it was too crude to handle nicer fabrics and was abandoned after one use. His clothes were perfect for this rough machine. Sometimes when he was too lazy to wash, he’d gather his clothes and take them to his grandmother’s house. When washing by himself, he was even rougher than the machine. Ironically, during his time as a sent-down youth, he barely washed clothes at all, as he could trade other work for laundry service.

When Fei Ni didn’t get an answer, she didn’t pursue it further, instead declaring, “Anyway, I won’t be washing your clothes in the future.”

“We should help each other. If you don’t want to wash clothes, I can wash yours.”

“No need. We’ll each wash our own. Just take care of yourself.” She didn’t have many clothes to begin with—if they were ruined, what would she wear?

“Why keep things so separate?”

Fei Ni thought that without clear boundaries, she’d likely be the one at a disadvantage.

“Are you going to work at the cement factory? Can you handle it?”

“What’s there to handle? The only worry was housing, and hasn’t that been solved now?” His hands had dug ditches, farmed fields, and made furniture. Since he could carry grain, carrying cement wouldn’t be a big problem.

Fei Ni suddenly felt grateful for the night’s darkness; some things could only be said at times like this: “Let’s move quickly on our marriage then. I’ll take tomorrow morning off, and in the afternoon we’ll go to the Youth Office together to get your marriage introduction letter.” It wasn’t just about the housing—there was also the matter of her brother’s hardship withdrawal. Without the Youth Office, her brother couldn’t return at all.

Worried she seemed too eager, Fei Ni added, “You don’t want to stay in the hospital forever, right?”

“Of course, I want to live with you as soon as possible.”

Fei Ni couldn’t find any flaw in Fang Muyang’s words, yet they made her uncomfortable.

Fortunately, Fang Muyang rode quickly, and they soon arrived at Fei Ni’s building.

“Let me take the bike. I’ll bring it back tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t bring it back. Ride it to meet me tomorrow at noon. I’ll take the bus in the morning. You should hurry back now.”

“I’ll watch you go inside first.”

Fei Ni was slightly annoyed: “I’m already here, how could I get lost?”

“You’ve turned your back, so let me look at you a bit longer. You won’t even allow that?”

Fei Ni didn’t want to argue anymore. She turned around without even saying goodbye, knowing they’d see each other tomorrow.

It was only about ten steps to enter the building, but Fei Ni took each step hurriedly as if she feared Fang Muyang getting an extra glance.

Inside the building, her heart beat faster than before. When she reached the third floor, she finally looked out through the stairwell window, but the dim lighting only showed Fang Muyang’s silhouette.

She thought he was dawdling—at this rate, who knew what time he’d get back.

“Fei Ni!”

Fei Ni turned to see Old Fei. Although she had told them she’d be back late today, it was late, and her father had been about to go down to meet her, worried something had happened.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you back so late?”

“I went to see a movie with Fang Muyang.”

“Fang Muyang? Weren’t you with Ye…”

“Things ended with Ye Feng.”

Old Fei felt his mind spinning—he needed to calm down.

Fei Ni didn’t give him the chance to calm down, directly telling her parents about her plans to marry Fang Muyang.

“Didn’t you go to Ye Feng’s house just last week?”

“Ye Feng’s mother dislikes me.” Fei Ni spoke calmly, “Of course, that’s not the important part. What matters is that Ye Feng plans to live with his parents after marriage. His mother hates me—I can’t force myself to live in their house.”

Old Fei couldn’t help saying, “Ye Feng is almost thirty, how can he still be so indecisive, doing whatever his mother says?”

“It’s not that he’s indecisive. He just knows what’s most important to him.” Fei Ni didn’t want to speak ill of Ye Feng behind his back. “He’s so comfortable living at home—it would be unreasonable for me to ask him to move out. People have different paths, and he isn’t mine. Let’s not mention him anymore.”

Old Fei exchanged glances with his wife, and they both said, “You’re still young, there’s no need to rush into marriage.”

Mother Fei added, “When your second sister got married, didn’t you advise her to be cautious? Why are you being so hasty with yourself? When you first asked me to introduce you to someone, you had four requirements. Young Fang only meets the age and looks criteria. Why don’t you meet more people? Besides, you just broke up with Ye Feng—rushing to marry Young Fang will make people think you were two-timing.”

“What others think of me doesn’t matter. As long as I know I’m not that kind of person, that’s enough.” She knew it did matter—she couldn’t ignore others’ opinions if she wanted to advance. But after caring so much for all these years, the greatest benefit had only been blending safely into the masses, with no one seeing her as particularly progressive.

Mother Fei heard the spite in these words: “Of course, I know your character. You’re just being spiteful, but even if you are, you should find someone with better conditions than Ye Feng. With Young Fang…”

“Marriage isn’t like fighting landlords or dividing fields—no matter how good someone else’s conditions are, they belong to others. Even if I temporarily gain their advantages, they can take them back whenever they want.” She continued, “Our factory is distributing housing now. Who knows how long we’d have to wait if we missed this chance? If I need to marry someone, Fang Muyang is the most suitable. I don’t think he’s inferior to anyone. With his background, he still got recommended for university while being sent down to the countryside, and even managed to save someone while home visiting—ordinary people couldn’t achieve these things.” Besides housing, there were other benefits: she could read whatever books and listen to whatever records she wanted without hiding. With someone like him, in these times when spouses might report each other, she would be the only one who could report him.

“Yes, Young Fang isn’t bad, I know that. But you could get housing by marrying someone else too. With your conditions, it wouldn’t be hard to find a man who could get housing.”

“This housing would be mine. Living in someone else’s allocated housing wouldn’t feel right.” Once she had housing, everything else would come gradually. There were substitutes for things they didn’t have—without a bed, they could sleep on two boxes pushed together, or even on the floor if necessary.

Knowing her parents’ concerns, Fei Ni added, “Fang Muyang will have a job now too. Our life won’t be too difficult in the future.”

As Mother Fei was about to speak again, Old Fei pressed her hand and said to Fei Ni, “It’s late. Let’s discuss anything else tomorrow. Everyone should rest now.”

While Fei Ni went to wash up, Old Fei finally spoke to his wife: “You know her temperament—when has she ever changed her mind about something she’s decided?”

“But why choose Young Fang? Look at his face—he was born with the face of a young master who can’t endure hardship. Even though his family has fallen from grace, he’s still suited to be a prince consort…”

“What era are you living in? Prince consort?”

Mother Fei gave Old Fei a disdainful look, “I mean he’s suited to be a live-in son-in-law for a wealthy family, not for our family. He doesn’t look like someone who can work hard or be the pillar of a household. Fei Ni will suffer plenty if she marries him.”

“I don’t think Young Fang is like you say. Didn’t he spend several years as a sent-down youth in the countryside? He even saved someone—how can you say he can’t endure hardship?”

“Whether he can endure hardship or not, there’ll be plenty of suffering ahead. His parents are both sent down, they can’t help at all. Other families’ weddings need thirty-six legs of furniture—no matter how long Young Fang’s legs are, he only has two. The three major appliances are basic nowadays, some people even want televisions for marriage.”

The elderly couple fell silent at the mention of televisions. Ye Feng worked at the Radio Industrial Bureau; marriage to him would include a television. But because Ye Feng’s mother looked down on their daughter, they didn’t see it as a good match anyway.

When Fei Ni came in with water and heard her parents mentioning television, she said matter-of-factly, “Television only has two programs a week, a radio is more practical.”

This had a distinct flavor of sour grapes. The elderly couple looked at the radio Fang Muyang had given them, sitting atop the chest of drawers, and remained silent.

Fei Ni didn’t know the radio was from Fang Muyang—no one had told her.

Early the next morning, Fei Ni hurriedly ate a few bites of breakfast and went downstairs to find Fang Muyang waiting below.

“Didn’t I tell you to meet me at noon?”

“Taking the bus costs money—isn’t my ride free?”

Fei Ni thought his reasoning made sense, but it didn’t match his style. “Since when did you become so frugal?”

“We’ll need money for furniture too—save where we can.”

Fei Ni hopped onto the bicycle seat. The morning breeze scattered her bangs, and she caught the scent of soap from Fang Muyang’s shirt—he must have used too much soap. He was always so terrible at washing clothes.

But she didn’t remind him. If she did, he’d ask her to demonstrate again, and she was determined never to wash his clothes.