HomeLove Story in the 1970sThe Pragmatist’s Love - Chapter 41

The Pragmatist’s Love – Chapter 41

Fang Muyang was in no rush to kiss her. His hands gently slid down Fei Ni’s face while his nose affectionately brushed against her eyelids and nose… everywhere except her mouth. When his lips occasionally met hers, the touch was fleeting, gone in an instant. His thumb caressed the corner of her mouth, making her lips tingle until she couldn’t help but bite them. Fang Muyang pressed his lips against hers, savoring their warmth.

She had gotten cold waiting for him downstairs; in return, he was now warming her up. Fang Muyang’s hands moved to her shoulders, steadying her as he deepened their contact. Fei Ni’s body proved weaker than her resolve, unconsciously leaning backward. If not for Fang Muyang’s hand quickly supporting her waist, she might have slipped to the floor. He moved one hand to cradle her head, preventing it from hitting the bed rail. Their breathing grew increasingly rapid, making the unhurried knocking at the door seem oddly gentle in comparison.

Fang Muyang continued as if he hadn’t heard, but the knocking immediately restored Fei Ni’s sense of propriety. She pushed against him, but he caught her hands, maintaining their position. Though she moved her feet, she still couldn’t bring herself to kick him. Fang Muyang whispered in her ear, “Kiss me back, and I’ll answer the door.”

“Open it or don’t, I don’t care.”

“Then I won’t.”

Having no choice, Fei Ni gave him a light kiss.

Wang Xiaoman had borrowed iodine last week and only remembered to return it tonight. She had knocked for quite a while before the man of the house finally came to open the door.

Fang Muyang opened the door just a crack, blocking Wang Xiaoman outside, and asked with a smile, “Can I help you?”

“I borrowed your iodine last week and just remembered to return it.” Wang Xiaoman tried to peer inside, but Fang Muyang blocked her view. She quickly said, “You’re busy, I’ll go.”

When Fang Muyang returned inside, Fei Ni was standing by the window, breathing in fresh air. As he approached, she shifted away from him as if he were dangerous.

“Hungry?”

“Not really.”

Fang Muyang took out his lunchbox. Restaurant fruit platters these days were mostly made from canned fruit, and what he’d brought back was no exception. They had no bowls, only two lunchboxes, and considering they’d need the boxes later, he poured the fruit into a glass jar. He scooped up a lychee with a spoon and held it to Fei Ni’s lips.

Just as Fei Ni opened her mouth, Fang Muyang pushed the lychee in. She could only take a small bite. Her gaze turned to his lunchbox, filled with various canned fruits mixed, though it wasn’t a regular fruit cocktail. “Where did you get this?”

“Someone treated me to dinner. This wasn’t touched, so I brought it back.”

“Isn’t that a bit… inappropriate? If we treated someone and they had leftovers to take home, that would be fine, but…”

“The elderly gentleman who treated me has diabetes. This was ordered especially for me.”

“Why did he treat you to dinner?”

Fang Muyang declared shamelessly, “Mainly because he admires my work.”

“You’ll keep getting better.” She felt happy for him, that his talent could finally bring him a better life, but her joy wasn’t pure. She remembered the day’s events at the factory. Earlier, her mind had been as heated as her face, burning away all unpleasant memories, but now they returned like smoldering embers.

“Tell me, who upset you today?”

Fei Ni opened the window wider, letting the wind blow in to cool her flushed face.

“I lost five yuan in allowance today.” However, compared to everything else, the monetary loss wasn’t important.

“It’s just five yuan. I’ll give you an extra five every month from now on.”

Fei Ni smiled. “Giving me money? You should get yourself new pants first—it’s getting cold.” Looking out the window, she caught sight of his arm. “You should put on another layer.”

Fang Muyang had left that morning wearing only a shirt. Fei Ni had wanted to remind him to wear more but had swallowed her words several times.

“But I’m very warm right now.” Fang Muyang whispered in her ear, “Feel my hands if you don’t believe me.”

Thankfully, the wind kept Fei Ni’s temperature stable.

Fang Muyang closed the window. “Stop letting in the draft, you’ll catch a cold.”

In the enclosed space, the coolness Fei Ni had gathered quickly dissipated.

Fang Muyang again brought a spoonful of lychee to her lips. When she kept them closed, he used the tip of the spoon to gently pry them open. The tickling sensation made her open her mouth and take a small bite. Fang Muyang ate the other half.

When he brought the spoon over again, Fei Ni said, “I don’t want anymore.”

As she spoke, he slipped in a piece of peach. She had to take another bite, and naturally, he finished the rest.

Seeing her growing annoyed, Fang Muyang handed her the lunchbox. “Here, eat by yourself.”

Fang Muyang lit the alcohol stove. When he wasn’t home, Fei Ni occasionally used the small electric stove, as she was wary of the alcohol stove. Once he returned, they switched to the alcohol stove—the electric one used too much power.

“We have porridge and steamed buns, why cook noodles?”

“You’ll see in a moment.”

Fang Muyang opened the can of abalone. The pieces were quite large. He used their only knife to slice the abalone and poured the entire can, juice and all, into the noodles.

“Why did you use the whole can at once?” Fei Ni guessed this was probably also a gift. She knew the canned abalone wasn’t cheap—eating one can by herself in one meal seemed too extravagant.

“Eat up.”

“Did you have this for dinner too?”

“No.”

“I can’t eat all this. Have some too.”

“I’ve already eaten. You eat.”

“Didn’t you say you weren’t full? The weather’s cool, the wontons won’t spoil by tomorrow. You should have this tonight.”

Fei Ni’s lunchbox held the wontons, so they had to share one box for the noodles.

Fei Ni insisted Fang Muyang eat first, and he insisted she go first. Finally, he said, “Let’s eat together—you take the first bite.”

They fell into a rhythm, each taking two bites before passing the box to the other. Sitting so close, their faces and fingers frequently brushed against each other. Fei Ni would quickly pull back, saying nothing, pretending nothing had happened.

She thought that tomorrow she would buy a set of bowls—she had just received her industrial coupons, perfect timing.

“Do you like it?”

Fei Ni nodded. The noodles were good, but even if they weren’t after Fang Muyang had used an entire can of abalone, she would have said they were.

“Then I’ll make it for you again in the future.”

“Never mind the future, you should eat more now.” Fei Ni pushed the lunchbox toward him. “I’m full. The rest is yours.”

“Why did you eat so little? Well, forget the noodles, but at least eat all the abalone.”

“I really can’t eat anymore.”

“I don’t like abalone, I just like the sauce. It would be such a waste if you don’t eat it.”

Fei Ni doubted he disliked it, and said, “Whether you like it or not, you should eat more. It’s not something you can have often.”

Fang Muyang rinsed his chopsticks in the water cup and brought a slice to her mouth. “I cleaned the chopsticks especially, worried you’d mind. Eat this piece, and I’ll eat the rest.”

Fei Ni believed him and opened her mouth. Fang Muyang pinched her cheek and picked up another piece for her.

Learning from last time, Fei Ni knew that if she spoke, Fang Muyang would slip food into her mouth, so she kept her lips sealed and avoided looking at him. Fang Muyang smiled at her: “You’re so good to me. I never imagined you’d like me this much.”

Just as Fei Ni was about to protest, Fang Muyang slipped the food from his chopsticks into her mouth.

When he brought the third slice, Fei Ni used her chopsticks to intercept the abalone and brought it to his mouth instead. “Hurry up and eat your share.”

Fang Muyang didn’t refuse her kindness. Fei Ni picked up another piece and fed it to him, using his tactics against him. The only difference was that Fang Muyang was much more at ease with it.

She discovered this technique worked well, no wonder Fang Muyang had used it on her. She grew increasingly curious about where all his experience came from, where he had practiced these moves. How far had things gone between him and Ling Yi? When male and female educated youths lived together at the same spot, spending day and night together, they must have done quite a lot—things she could imagine, and things she couldn’t. At this thought, she put down her chopsticks and asked him, “When did you recover your memory?” She had always felt he had recovered his memory before the earthquake—his experience with building earthquake shelters must have come from before his hospitalization.

At this point, Fang Muyang had no reason to deceive Fei Ni anymore. He smiled and said, “Take a guess.”

Instead of guessing, Fei Ni asked in a casual tone, “Do you remember how many girls you’ve drawn before?”

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