After splashing cold water on her face and calming herself, she opened the bathroom door. She would have to continue living with Fang Muyang, and constantly avoiding him wasn’t a solution. She wasn’t some shy young bride—being needlessly bashful would only give him more opportunities to tease her. Better to act naturally.

Fang Muyang looked her up and down, his expression suggesting he wondered why she’d come out without washing.

Fei Ni ignored him and opened her bag.

Before coming to the guesthouse, her mother had thoughtfully prepared a bag for her containing a change of clothes and sleepwear—though calling it sleepwear was generous. It was a dress, equally wide at top and bottom, sleeveless and shapeless, made from leftover fabric when she had sewn curtains for her sister. It was cool to wear, at least. Her mother must have been in a hurry, as she’d packed wooden slippers though Fei Ni had a new pair with foam soles.

Under Fang Muyang’s watchful gaze, Fei Ni grabbed her nightdress and white cotton brassiere, took a step, then turned back for her shirt before returning to the bathroom and locking the door. With Fang Muyang outside, bathing alone in the bathroom felt hardly more relaxing than using a public bathhouse. The water was very hot as she hurriedly applied soap and shampoo, then let the hot water rinse away the suds—the entire process taking no more than five minutes. She rushed to dry herself with a towel and started dressing, but because she hadn’t dried thoroughly enough, the clothes stuck to her skin. She had to undo her brassiere hooks again—five hooks on the left side, made of white cotton that absorbed water readily and clung entirely to her skin. At home, she wouldn’t wear it under the nightdress, but the dress was so loose that going without was simply impossible. She dried herself again with the towel before putting back on the recently removed clothes, dried her hair until it was about eighty percent dry, then bent down to pick up her fallen hair and throw it in the trash.

Everything was done, but she still wasn’t prepared to face him, so she squeezed out some toothpaste and brushed her teeth while adjusting her mood.

While washing had taken five minutes, brushing her teeth took ten. Only when her facial expression was properly prepared did she roll up her changed clothes and open the bathroom door. Her dress was so wide it made her look even thinner, with a shirt draped over her upper body and her calves exposed below. Her calves, freshly scalded by hot water, weren’t purely white but slightly reddened. Her slippers made a clacking sound against the floor, which embarrassed her, though she tried to suppress this feeling.

Fang Muyang turned to face her, smiling.

To show her composure, Fei Ni smiled back, though somewhat unnaturally, causing her to forget the expression she’d carefully prepared.

She shuffled to the bed in her slippers, trying to appear as natural as possible while stuffing her rolled-up clothes into her bag.

“Let me wash your changed clothes together with mine.”

“No need, thank you.”

“Don’t be so polite. You’ve washed plenty of clothes for me before.”

Fei Ni insisted it wasn’t necessary, and Fang Muyang didn’t press the matter. He opened the room door, showing her his back as he left.

Fei Ni didn’t know what he was going out for at this hour. The electric fan made the book pages rustle. She stood at the table, reaching to check the book’s cover, immediately seeing the large characters spelling “Watch Repair Manual.”

Her fingers touched the book, but hearing the door, she withdrew them to rest on the chair’s back.

Fang Muyang entered, handing Fei Ni a hair dryer. “Dry it some more. It’s not good to sleep with wet hair.”

He hadn’t just borrowed a hair dryer from the front desk—he’d also gotten a mosquito coil and a matchbox containing a single match. When the flame touched the coil, the room’s scent changed.

Seeing Fei Ni hadn’t started drying her hair, he grabbed the dryer, plugged it in, and aimed it at her hair. Fei Ni snatched it back, saying, “I’ll do it myself.”

Fang Muyang turned the electric fan’s head in another direction, lifted the thermos lid, poured water into a cup, and placed it in front of the fan. “The water’s hot. Drink it later. Stay away from the fan—don’t catch a chill.”

Fei Ni’s fingers combed through her hair as she lowered her head to thank him.

Fang Muyang pointed to the bathroom. “Do you need to go in again?”

“No, you go ahead.”

After drying her hair, Fei Ni sat at the cabinet browsing the watch repair manual. On the title page, his brother had wished for him to become a useful person, specifically sending him this book. But even if he learned watch repair, no watch factory would hire him. Fei Ni thought again about the furniture matter—even though Fang Muyang knew how to make furniture, it was labor-intensive work. He should focus on drawing at the comic art training class. As she pondered this, she started thinking about who might need wood materials, planning to help sell the lumber.

While she was lost in thought, Fang Muyang emerged. He had taken a cold shower—one advantage of his rural posting was the abundant water supply, allowing for year-round bathing. From spring to winter, his bathing routine had three steps: pour one bucket of water, soap from head to toe, then rinse with another bucket of cold water. Years of practice made him quick—in ten minutes, he had not only bathed and brushed his teeth but also washed his changed clothes.

Fang Muyang was far more at ease than Fei Ni, coming out wearing just a black tank top, and hanging his freshly rinsed clothes on the windowsill. Even the tank top was worn out of consideration for Fei Ni—his arms were muscular, clearly no stranger to hard work, typically lean but not weak. In times of limited resources, becoming fat was a costly affair, and Fang Muyang lacked such means.

He hung up his clothes and walked behind Fei Ni, taking the hair dryer to dry his hair. Fei Ni wanted to stand up but found herself enclosed by him, one hand on the cabinet, the other holding the dryer. Standing would mean touching him. Fei Ni could only continue reading his watch repair manual.

Holding her water cup with both hands and taking a sip, Fei Ni suggested to Fang Muyang: “Let’s not make furniture now. Wouldn’t it be better to focus your time and energy on comic art? Once you draw well and earn some manuscript fees, you’ll have money for furniture, and might even find regular work. To be frank, if you try it and find you don’t want to or aren’t suited for drawing comics, and can’t find work after training, there’ll be plenty of time for furniture-making later. Why rush?”

Fei Ni maintained her position: “The current furniture is fine to use. Old furniture works just as well. If you agree, I’ll help you sell the lumber. The money will still be yours.”

“You’re this concerned about my time?”

Fei Ni internally cursed him for always missing the point, saying impatiently: “If you decide to sell, tell me tomorrow, and I’ll find buyers.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to prioritize, but I’m making the furniture. I visited the furniture factory—they don’t have what you want.”

Fei Ni wasn’t moved, only saying: “Do whatever you want.” She kept her eyes fixed on the watch repair manual, avoiding looking at Fang Muyang.

Fang Muyang asked, “I want to sleep now. Which bed do you want?”

“Could you keep your mouth farther from me? I can hear you fine.” Fei Ni covered her reddening ears with her hands. “Either bed is fine with me.”

“Then I’ll take the one by the door. I’ll put the stick beside your bed, within arm’s reach.”

“No need.”

“Don’t trust me so much. I don’t deserve such trust.” Because Fei Ni had said she could hear him, Fang Muyang whispered very softly near her ear this time, “I can’t sleep with the lights on. You lie down first, and I’ll turn them off.” The room had two lights—besides the ceiling light, there was also a table lamp on the nightstand between the beds.

He spoke so softly it made Fei Ni’s ear tickle.

“You turn off the lights and sleep first. I’ll sit a while longer.”

Fang Muyang didn’t insist, first turning off the ceiling light, then walking to the bed and switching off the table lamp before pulling up his sheet.

When the room darkened completely, Fei Ni shuffled towards the window in her slippers in the dark, but the room suddenly brightened again. Fang Muyang had his sheet over his head but was holding the lamp’s pull cord.

“Turn off the light.”

Once Fei Ni was in bed, the room returned to darkness.

After five minutes, Fei Ni asked Fang Muyang: “Are you asleep?”

“Yes.”

Fei Ni made a dismissive sound.

Another five minutes passed, and Fang Muyang deliberately created steady breathing sounds. This time Fei Ni believed he was truly asleep and felt safe enough to drift off.

The room was quiet, so quiet that Fang Muyang could discern Fei Ni’s breathing pattern. He sat up in bed and turned on the table lamp.

Sleeping people make excellent models, especially someone like Fei Ni who slept so neatly, always lying on one side with the sheet pulled up to just below her chin, only her head visible. Her eyelashes were so curled they looked as if they might float up in a breeze. Fang Muyang wanted to blow on them to test this, but he only pointed his pen about a centimeter from her eyelashes.

Fei Ni woke very early, with light filtering through the curtains. She discovered the table lamp was still on, though it had been moved from the nightstand to the cabinet, where Fang Muyang sat in his chair, showing only his back.

“What are you doing?”

“Studying.”

Fang Muyang quickly covered the watch with his book. “Why are you up so early? Go back to sleep for a while.”

“Can’t sleep.” Fei Ni got up and took her change of clothes to the bathroom to change out of her nightdress.

Fei Ni had to go to work, and Fang Muyang to his training class. They ate breakfast at a small shop next to the guesthouse. Fei Ni insisted on paying, and knowing she didn’t like meat buns, bought only two for Fang Muyang.

After eating, Fang Muyang wanted to cycle her to work.

“Don’t bother, I’ll take the bus. You keep the bicycle, and come directly to our house for dinner tonight.”

“We’re not far apart. Taking you won’t delay me.”

After some thought, Fei Ni tactfully mentioned the television voucher matter to Fang Muyang. She had finally helped her brother find a job and couldn’t risk anything going wrong.

Fang Muyang smiled at her: “What? Do I look like someone who can’t get a television voucher?”