No matter what the Sent-down Youth Office officials said, Fei Ni insisted she couldn’t marry Fang Muyang.

Caring for an unrelated hero showed political consciousness and deserved recognition as an advanced worker; but caring for a husband was merely duty, not counting as good deeds at all.

Marrying Fang Muyang would leave her with a husband with a child’s intellect while erasing her previous achievements in caring for a hero. She lost either way.

She couldn’t speak her true thoughts, only saying that before his injury, Fang Muyang had a long-time female companion. That woman wasn’t her. She hoped true lovers would end up together—the more she admired and respected him, the less she could deprive him of his chance at happiness.

The officials responded that during Fang Muyang’s long illness, this woman hadn’t visited once to care for him. How could she compare to Fei Ni? Marrying Fei Ni would bring Fang Muyang true happiness.

Fei Ni thought to herself: if his childhood sweetheart wouldn’t marry the current him, why should she? Just because she saved every bit of meat for him to eat and cared for him constantly, she should bear this burden?

She smiled outwardly but spoke with unwavering firmness. No matter what they said, she maintained that for Fang Muyang’s happiness, she couldn’t marry him.

Until they mentioned the Hat Factory’s housing allocation. They had investigated Fei Ni’s work background—the Hat Factory was currently allocating housing. Though Fei Ni’s rank and years of service wouldn’t qualify her, marrying a hero would guarantee her a unit; to facilitate her care for Fang Muyang, they could arrange with the Hat Factory to transfer her to finance or administration.

This condition truly tempted Fei Ni. Even university graduates started with shared two-person dormitories, and marriage didn’t guarantee even a ten-square-meter tube-shaped apartment. Marrying Fang Muyang would immediately advance her to a new stage of life.

But she still refused to marry him.

If he couldn’t recover his memory, she’d essentially be marrying someone mentally disabled; if he did recover, he’d remember his former girlfriend—their years together proved her lasting appeal. Once awake, old feelings would resurface, leaving no place for Fei Ni.

Marrying Fang Muyang would bring her countless harms and no benefits. She had only one life; she couldn’t sacrifice it by making wedding clothes for others.

Once she refused, Fang Muyang would be left without care, and her more than half a year of good deeds would be wasted. She hoped someone else would voluntarily take him in.

His girlfriend was destined to become his ex-girlfriend—she wouldn’t even visit, let alone take him in to care for him.

Fei Ni remembered Fang Muyang’s sister had left her work unit’s phone number last time, so she called again.

Learning her brother had awakened, Fang Muying took the train to see him. She taught at a southern university, and due to her poor family background, her boyfriend of a similar background had married a woman whose family had been poor farmers for eight generations. Also due to her background, she had no private dormitory room, shared with another person.

The local Sent-down Youth Office’s influence was limited; they couldn’t extend their reach to Fang’s second sister’s university.

She had no means to care for Fang Muyang.

Fei Ni asked about Fang’s elder brother.

The second sister told her their elder brother’s work was classified; his wife hadn’t seen him for several years.

Seeing his second sister Muying, Fang Muyang smiled again.

Fei Ni introduced her: “This is your second sister.”

Fang Muyang asked his sister where their home was; he wanted to go home.

Muying started smiling too, but her smile turned to tears.

Where was their home now?

The second sister only had three days’ leave and had to take the train back that day. Before leaving, Muying again offered the two hundred yuan and national food coupons that Fei Ni had refused last time, but Fei Ni still wouldn’t accept.

“Take it, buy him some new clothes.” Though Fei Ni’s old clothes were washed white, she had bought new shirts for his brother.

“It’s too much money,” Fei Ni knew his second sister had it hard too.

“Last time I came, you weren’t this thin. Leave him to the Sent-down Youth Office; they must take responsibility. You can’t sacrifice your whole life for him.”

In all her days caring for Fang Muyang, no matter how difficult, Fei Ni had never cried, even when knowing her university dream had shattered again—she only felt pain inside. But hearing these words, her tears finally fell. They were words of genuine understanding from another person who had also suffered.

If Muying hadn’t said those words, after she left, Fei Ni wouldn’t have returned to the hospital. But because of her understanding, Fei Ni decided to get a few more clothes for Fang Muyang.

Since entering the hospital, Fang Muyang has worn hospital clothes; all his other clothes were prepared by Fei Ni. Except for one new shirt, his pants and outer shirts were altered from her brother’s old clothes, with pants lengthened using fabric scraps. But he was handsome, so nothing looked bad on him. Fei Ni had also made him two false collars to alternate.

Now with money, Fei Ni exchanged food coupons for fabric coupons and bought clothes to make new clothes for him. She sewed at night but still visited the hospital during the day. She no longer brought him food but let him buy it himself. One and a half jin of rice cost two fen; he needed three jin; one spare rib cost one jiao, he needed two; a plate of cabbage cost three fen, a bowl of soup one fen; one meal cost three jiao. She counted out three jiao and went with him to the window, watching him buy. Dinner was a bowl of spare rib noodles plus two meat buns, as well as three jiao. He normally spent eight jiao daily, more if he wanted wontons for breakfast.

The day after finishing the clothes, Fei Ni went to the hospital early. She had made him two khaki pants and two shirts, one cotton linen perfect for summer. She also bought two pairs of shoes—leather shoes and sneakers—after measuring his shoe size. She put the remaining money and food coupons in a bag and gave it to Fang Muyang, telling him to keep it safe and never give it to others.

Fei Ni closed the ward door, letting Fang Muyang change into new clothes. After he changed, she said she would take him to see a movie. Afraid he might get lost, she had him walk in front; he looked back every two steps, and as they walked, he reached back with one hand. Fei Ni’s hands were in her pockets, and that outstretched hand remained untaken but unretracted, hanging back. Fei Ni surveyed their surroundings and offered a few fingers; Fang Muyang grabbed them, and they began walking side by side.

Being the weekend, the bus was crowded. Squeezed among people, Fei Ni tried to withdraw her hand, but he held it tight. Afraid of being recognized, she kept her head down, regretting not wearing a mask.

When the driver braked suddenly, Fei Ni lost her balance and fell backward. Fang Muyang caught her waist. He kept holding her, not letting go. Fei Ni’s face turned red with embarrassment; she elbowed his arm, whispering, “Fang Muyang, remove your hand immediately.”

At the cinema entrance, someone sold soda. Fei Ni bought a bottle of Arctic Ocean soda, had the vendor open it, and elbowed Fang Muyang’s arm, “Drink up.”

“Why aren’t you drinking?”

“I don’t like it.”

The film was Romanian, about disaster relief, but what stirred young viewers were the intimate scenes between men and women. Fei Ni had no interest in such scenes; she brought Fang Muyang to watch as her final effort to restore his memory. Even now, she hadn’t given up—she desperately wanted to be recognized as advanced. The film didn’t awaken his memories of his disaster relief efforts, but it seemed to awaken something else. After those suggestive embrace scenes, Fang Muyang again gripped Fei Ni’s hand.

Her heart pounded heavily as she mentally cursed his shamelessness—who knew how many liberties he’d taken with his girlfriend before, and while he couldn’t remember his own parents, he hadn’t forgotten this. She tried to prick his palm with her short nails to make him let go, but he kept holding on, their palms growing sweaty together. Afraid of drawing attention from others by speaking, she could only endure silently.

Fei Ni thought, after today, that she must never visit him again.

Leaving the cinema, Fei Ni couldn’t resist stepping on Fang Muyang’s foot twice, whispering harshly, “You’re not allowed to hold my hand anymore!”

“Then you hold mine.” He extended his hand, waiting for Fei Ni to take it.

“Put your hands in your pockets.”

Fang Muyang was a head taller than Fei Ni. With his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows and hands in his pockets, walking down the street, no one would suspect his mental condition.

They both wore white shirts; Fei Ni’s pants and messenger bag were military green, so old they had faded white, emanating a soap smell. They walked side by side, half a meter apart.

Neither spoke. She had already decided before coming: if he still hadn’t recovered his memory after the movie, she would treat him to a Russian restaurant meal and never see him again.

Fei Ni let Fang Muyang order. He did so skillfully, choosing fried pork chops and borscht, and was about to order more when Fei Ni quickly told the server they were done.

Fang Muyang cut the pork chop and offered it to Fei Ni first; she said she didn’t like it.

Fang Muyang called the server to bring the menu again, asking Fei Ni what she liked.

Fei Ni ordered ice cream, telling the server to bring it after the meal. Fang Muyang said ice cream couldn’t count as a proper meal and urged her to order more. Fei Ni forced a smile and asked the server to take the menu away.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his behavior—after so many days of remembering nothing, he hadn’t forgotten his ordering manners. Afraid he would order more, she had to share his pork chop.

When the ice cream arrived, Fei Ni pushed it toward Fang Muyang, “Didn’t you always want ice cream? Go ahead.”

Fang Muyang scooped a spoonful and held it to Fei Ni’s mouth, “You first.”

“I don’t want any.” She could never win against someone mentally unclear, as the spoon remained stubbornly at her lips.

She grabbed Fang Muyang’s spoon and put the ice cream in her mouth. It was too sweet, but admittedly better than red bean popsicles.

They shared the ice cream.

When paying, Fang Muyang took out the bag Fei Ni had given him, counting the money note by note—he could now recognize the numbers. He stopped Fei Ni from taking money from her bag and generously paid the bill.

Fei Ni couldn’t tell if he was truly simple or pretending. At this rate, he’d spend all the money in no time; better to exchange it for something practical now. She took him to a clothing store where winter clothes were still available in summer—a wool short coat for eighty yuan. He had no winter clothes now, and while the Sent-down Youth Office covered his meals, they wouldn’t help with clothes. He couldn’t wear shirts in winter; the coat seemed necessary. Just as she picked out the wool coat, Fang Muyang pointed to a cardigan dress on another rack and said to Fei Ni: “Let’s buy that instead.”

Fei Ni cursed internally—truly simple-minded, what man wears dresses?

She couldn’t say this in front of others, so she pulled Fang Muyang aside and told him word by word: “You’re a man. Men don’t wear dresses.”

“You wear it.”

At checkout, they disagreed—Fang Muyang wanted to buy the dress, and Fei Ni the wool coat. With the money in his possession, he wanted Fei Ni to listen to him.

“I can’t earn enough for a dress in a month; how could I repay you?” How could she use a simple-minded person’s money to buy herself a dress? Tomorrow she wouldn’t visit him anymore; she had to leave him something.

“No need to repay.”

“Didn’t I tell you? Today you do as I say. Can’t you understand human speech?” She snatched the bag from Fang Muyang’s hand, counted out the money to the clerk, and said firmly, “We’ll take that wool coat.” She used the money to buy him an outer shirt and two pairs of socks as well.

This incident left them both unhappy; they didn’t speak a word on the way back to the hospital.

In the ward, Fei Ni folded his clothes one by one and returned the money bag to him.

She told Fang Muyang: “You’re a hero who saved four people. The Sent-down Youth Office should rightfully take care of you; tell them whatever you need. You get one bottle of milk daily—if they forget, remind the nurses…”

She said more to him that day than in all previous days combined, continuing even without his response.

“I can’t remember all this—why not come tell me again tomorrow?”

“If you can’t remember, I’ll repeat it once more.”

She wouldn’t come back tomorrow.