HomeLove Story in the 1970sThe Pragmatist’s Love - Chapter 43

The Pragmatist’s Love – Chapter 43

Fei Ni waited at home for Fang Muyang to return for dinner, planning to ask him about what he’d done with their sofa. Before she saw him, she heard his voice first. At this hour, the corridor was crowded with people preparing dinner. She heard Fang Muyang saying “Excuse me,” and someone asked him why he’d bought such a large item. Fang Muyang explained, “My wife Fei Ni wants to play ‘Shajiabang’ at home.”

Someone remarked, “I didn’t know ‘Shajiabang’ could be played on piano. Little Fei must be quite talented.”

Hearing Fang Muyang’s voice and the word “piano,” Fei Ni’s confusion only grew. She put down her knitting and stood up to open the door. She met Fang Muyang right at the entrance, who greeted her with a smile. She noticed the sweat on his face and quickly stepped aside to let him in. Fang Muyang and a middle-aged man in his forties carefully maneuvered the piano to the corner of the room.

Fei Ni watched as the large instrument took its place against the wall.

“Ni, get one yuan for the moving man.” Fei Ni, without even examining the piano, grabbed the money and poured a glass of water for the worker. The man quickly drank the water and left, as he had other jobs waiting.

After the worker left, Fang Muyang placed a chair next to the piano and said to Fei Ni, “You can make do with this chair for now. I’ll make you a proper piano bench another day.”

Before Fei Ni could ask, Fang Muyang explained everything: “It was perfect timing. I took the sofa to the consignment shop, and someone bought it right away. They happened to have a second-hand piano, so I got it for you. Even more perfectly, the sofa and piano cost the same. This proves the piano was meant for you.”

The piano had passed through many owners, its age far exceeding both Fang Muyang and Fei Ni’s. It had changed hands at least twice at the consignment shop. Sold there in the 1960s, someone had bought it at a low price, and now it was sold again. The previous owner probably never had it tuned—the pitch was slightly off, but Fang Muyang didn’t consider this a major problem. He planned to buy a tuning fork and learn to tune it for Fei Ni someday.

Fei Ni examined the piano before her, and after longing for one for so long, its presence felt almost unreal. The black and white keys filled her with joy, and when her fingers touched them, producing simple notes, the cheerful sounds lifted her spirits even higher.

Though her rational mind reminded her that the apartment had poor soundproofing, and spending so much money on a piano that she could only play a few pieces on throughout the year wasn’t economical, not to mention that old consignment shop pianos needed frequent tuning—all logical reasons argued against buying a piano. Only one reason supported the purchase: she wanted it. Initially, logic had won over desire, convincing her that buying a piano wasn’t practical. But now, with the piano before her, Fei Ni couldn’t help but smile as she gently wiped the dust off the keys with her handkerchief.

She finally had her piano. Since childhood, she had dreamed of owning one. Back then, she had many ideals about life—she would go to university, own her own home where she could play whatever pieces she wanted, read whatever books she liked, and listen to whatever music she desired.

In reality, she hadn’t gone to university, and there seemed no hope of ever attending; when she wanted to read, she had to scrounge through waste collection stations, spending hours finding a single book she wanted, then sneaking it home like a thief.

Yet her real life wasn’t completely at odds with her dreams. She did have her room—though small and poorly soundproofed, it was still hers. And now she had a piano—though it needed tuning and her repertoire was limited.

She had finally obtained something she had wanted since childhood but never had, proving her life hadn’t stagnated but had progressed somewhat. This gave her hope, clearing away much of her previous gloom.

If Fang Muyang hadn’t placed the piano before her, Fei Ni might never have realized how important a piano was to her, even an old one. Her life had been so routine, with a future that seemed entirely predictable. This piano represented more than just an instrument—it brought an element of unexpected joy.

“Did you sell your sofa to buy me this piano?” She remembered he’d even used the fabric meant for trousers to make the sofa, and she’d argued with him one-sidedly about it. He hadn’t explained then, and she’d assumed he liked the sofa.

“You’re making it sound too formal. I sold our sofa to buy us a piano. Are you saying only you’re allowed to play it?”

“You like playing piano too?” She’d thought he had no interest in piano, seeming to always skip elementary school piano lessons.

“I’m not very good, but you can teach me.”

“I just play casually, I can’t be a teacher.” Besides, the piano was slightly out of tune, and finding someone to tune it would be difficult. She could accept the imperfect pitch herself, but using it as a teaching instrument might lead Fang Muyang astray.

“But you’re good enough to teach me.”

“Well, I’ll try.” Even if she taught him wrong, it was better for two people to use one piano than just one person. She figured since he could read music, teaching him shouldn’t be too difficult.

Fei Ni noticed the sweat on Fang Muyang’s brow again—getting the piano home from the consignment shop couldn’t have been easy. She took his white porcelain basin to fetch water, mixed it with hot water from the thermos, soaked a towel in it, wrung it out, and handed it to him to wipe his face.

When Fang Muyang took the towel, his fingers brushed against Fei Ni’s, and her hand jerked back as if shocked.

Fang Muyang wiped his face and went to wash the towel himself.

“How did you know I could play ‘Shajiabang’?”

Fang Muyang said softly, “I could hardly tell them you like Mozart.”

“True. Then let me play you a section from ‘Shajiabang’.”

Without a proper bench, Fei Ni sat on the chair, her back perfectly straight. Before playing, she turned and smiled at Fang Muyang beside her.

Fang Muyang, who had been watching her, picked up a piece of paper and began sketching her portrait.

After she finished the first piece, Fang Muyang asked for a second, followed by a third—all currently popular tunes.

Playing at home was more satisfying than playing elsewhere, and the piano’s imperfections seemed negligible.

Fang Muyang rarely saw Fei Ni so happy. He didn’t interrupt her, faithfully recording everything he saw. Her fingers radiated joy, and he found himself infected by her happiness.

Both forgot about dinner entirely.

When Fei Ni finished playing, she looked at Fang Muyang, who was drawing her. They exchanged smiles.

She had been so caught up in playing that she hadn’t felt self-conscious, but now she felt slightly embarrassed, aware that he had been watching her the whole time.

Fang Muyang asked her to play one more piece.

Fei Ni obliged her sole audience member with another song.

Afterward, she moved closer to Fang Muyang to see herself in the drawing.

But he moved the easel away mysteriously, not letting her see.

Fei Ni threatened, “If you won’t let me see, I won’t let you draw me anymore.”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

“What if I want to look?” Fei Ni turned her face and suggested, “Didn’t you want to learn piano from me? I’ll teach you now.”

Fei Ni took on the role of teacher quite naturally, teaching with infinite patience. Even when Fang Muyang’s fingers formed the strangest arch she’d ever seen on a piano player, she didn’t mock him for being slow but personally corrected his form.

Their fingers touched, and Fang Muyang asked, “Do you think I’m stupid?”

It was indeed surprising—Fang Muyang could play violin, read music, and had taken music lessons before. He shouldn’t have been this awkward.

But she generously forgave him. After all, she only knew a few pieces, and teaching him over a year or so wouldn’t be too burdensome.

“No rush, we’ll take it slowly.”

Fang Muyang held Fei Ni’s hand and said, “You’re wonderful.”

Wang Xiaoman heard the music from next door. Her neighbors—two young people who could barely afford necessities like gas cylinders and works—had bought a piano.

The music seemed to indicate they were content with their current life. To be satisfied with so little seemed to show a lack of ambition. Besides, she felt Fei Ni’s playing was somewhat lacking. She should let Fei Ni listen to her records to understand what good playing sounded like. She took a record from her drawer and placed it on the phonograph, enjoying it alone.

As she listened, Wang Xiaoman realized something was wrong. If the piano sound could travel through the walls, it meant the apartment was still as poorly soundproofed as before. The previous couple who lived next door would often make noises at night that kept them from sleeping, forcing them to stuff cotton in their ears. When Fei Ni’s husband returned, Wang Xiaoman had expected worse—after all, they were newlyweds, and being somewhat inconsiderate, daily noise wouldn’t have been surprising. But after all this time, the cotton she’d prepared hadn’t been needed once. She’d thought they’d found some way to soundproof the room.

A young married couple wed for so many days, yet not a single sound.

She nudged her husband, “Have you heard any sounds from next door these days?”

“No, why?”

Wang Xiaoman grew increasingly angry: “Tonight, you better keep it down. They’re newlyweds and can manage to be quiet. Why do you always make the bed creak so much? It’s embarrassing. Who knows what the neighbors think of me? Being with you has completely ruined my reputation.”

“You’re not exactly quiet yourself.”

“Shameless! Stay away from me tonight!”

“You think being quiet is something to be proud of? What’s so embarrassing about being loud? The neighbors are probably envious. That tall fellow next door might look impressive, but he’s probably all show and no substance. Whoever married him got the short end of the stick.”

“That can’t be true. Would Fei Ni have agreed if that were the case?”

“Fei Ni may look smart, but she’s more foolish than anyone. So many men pursued her, and she ignored them all, only to end up with him. You were much smarter, marrying me.”

Fei Ni was unaware of the neighbors’ gossip and focused entirely on teaching Fang Muyang to play the piano. It wasn’t until nearly nine o’clock that she remembered the potato and beef in her lunchbox.

Since Fei Ni managed their money, she was now responsible for buying dinner.

The potato and beef dish was only available once a week, and Fei Ni had struggled to get it. Today, instead of steamed buns, she had bought spiral noodles.

Now that they had new bowls, Fang Muyang poured congee from the thermos into Fei Ni’s bowl first, then his own.

Fei Ni handed the spiral noodles to Fang Muyang, who naturally took a bite. He picked up a piece of beef with his chopsticks and held it to Fei Ni’s mouth. She ate it but said, “I can pick it up myself.”

“You worked hard teaching me earlier. Let me have a chance to thank you.” He fed her another piece.

Fei Ni ate what was offered and placed several pieces of beef in Fang Muyang’s bowl.

“Eat by yourself,” she said. “We’ll never finish at this rate.”

So they ate separately, their fingers occasionally touching, without speaking a word.

After dinner, they went to the washroom together to clean their bowls.

If not for fear of disturbing others, Fei Ni would have liked to play the piano more.

After washing up, Fei Ni sat in the chair knitting thermal underwear for Fang Muyang. She had initially wanted to teach him to knit for himself, but since he was responsible for all their furniture, he had no time for knitting, so she had to help him.

While Fang Muyang had rushed to make the sofa, he wasn’t as hurried with the low cabinet. As Fei Ni knitted his underwear, he took down the curtain from his bed.

“Why are you taking that down?”

“It’s getting cold now, and I can’t keep going outside to hide. I’ll put up a curtain in your corner. That way, you can wash up, and I won’t have to leave the room.”

Fei Ni thought Fang Muyang’s logic made sense, but…

He continued, “We’ll still sleep separately at night, but during the day, you can move your pillow next to mine. That way, if anyone visits, they won’t suspect we sleep in separate beds.”

Fei Ni’s silence signaled agreement.

Fang Muyang said, “Don’t sit on the chair, it’s cold. Since we don’t have a sofa, make do with sitting on my bed for now.”

“The chair isn’t cold.”

With the excitement of the piano, Fei Ni had almost forgotten it was Tuesday. Only when Fang Muyang mentioned the bed did she remember what day it was.

She checked her watch and urged him, “Do the curtain tomorrow. You should sleep early.”

“It’ll only take a moment.”

Fei Ni put down her knitting needles. “I’m tired and want to rest now. I can’t sleep with the lights on.”

Fang Muyang didn’t understand why she suddenly needed to sleep but saw no reason to upset her over such a small matter.

Before sleeping, Fei Ni asked Fang Muyang if he wanted to listen to the radio. With headphones on, the neighbors’ sounds wouldn’t be so clear.

Fang Muyang agreed.

Fei Ni felt relieved.

Barefoot, she climbed the ladder to the upper bunk. Through the curtain, she handed him the radio and headphones.

When Fang Muyang took the headphones, he held onto her hand. Fei Ni didn’t object, letting him warm her hand before withdrawing it. “Go ahead and listen.”

After a while, she heard him speak, “Fei Ni, show me your ear.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see in a moment.”

Instead of just showing one ear, she revealed her whole face. Fang Muyang shone the flashlight on her face and put one earphone in her ear.

Fei Ni’s expression started neutral but gradually changed as her heart began to race—so loudly that Fang Muyang could hear it.

He had turned to a foreign classical music station. During this time, listening to foreign stations could easily lead to accusations of “listening to enemy broadcasts”—resulting in anything from public criticism to worse…

Fei Ni removed the earphones and asked Fang Muyang to lean closer.

She whispered in his ear: “How did you find this station? Don’t listen to it anymore, it’s too dangerous.”

Fang Muyang brought his mouth close to her ear, almost touching it. “With headphones, no one can hear. I thought you’d like it.”

Though Fei Ni did like it, she said, “I don’t like it at all.” She couldn’t tell anyone she enjoyed foreign stations, even if it was just music with no other content. It could be used against her, affecting her future. Though she trusted Fang Muyang completely, she couldn’t risk even a one-in-ten-thousand chance.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll listen alone.”

“You can’t listen either. Don’t tune in to this station again. With your background, you can’t afford any mistakes. No matter how many good deeds you do, one report of listening to enemy broadcasts would ruin your future.”

Though only two people occupied the room, they pressed their mouths to each other’s ears to speak, as if others might overhear otherwise.

Fei Ni continued, “Never tell anyone you listen to these stations. If others find out, you’ll be in serious trouble.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that foolish. Only we know. Anyone else might report me, but you never would.” He wouldn’t tell a third person, no matter how unguarded he felt.

“How do you know I wouldn’t?” Fei Ni maintained a slight distance, her mouth not quite touching his ear, though he could still hear her near-whisper. “I have principles. If you make a mistake, I will report you.”

“Then go ahead and report me. Of all people in the world, I’d willingly accept being reported by you. Maybe you could gain something from it. Who knows, you might even get a chance to go to university for being righteous enough to report family…”

Fei Ni grew agitated. “What kind of person do you think I am?” No matter what, she would never report Fang Muyang for a chance at university.

“I know exactly what kind of person you are.” Fang Muyang kissed her ear. “If I didn’t know, how could I put such leverage in your hands?”

His invitation to listen to foreign music stations was worth at least a public criticism.

Fei Ni’s heart softened. “Let’s just listen to this once, but never again.”

“Want to listen together?”

“You listen. I’m going to sleep.” They only had one pair of headphones, and this kind of station required them.

Fei Ni returned the earphones to Fang Muyang’s ear, and he enjoyed it alone in his bed.

The melody lingered in Fei Ni’s mind, forming a picture, but parts remained blank, compelling her to listen more. The anticipation grew unbearable as she desperately wanted to see the complete image. She took the flashlight and climbed down barefoot. The bed curtain was gone, and when the light fell on Fang Muyang’s face and neck, she quickly turned away, though keeping the light on him.

“Why aren’t you wearing pajamas?”

“I washed them today. I can’t wear wet clothes.”

“Put something else on quickly.”

Fang Muyang pulled on a sweater. “What is it?”

“Give me one of your earphones.”

Fang Muyang generously offered not just to share the headphones but half his bed as well.

Fei Ni refused, saying she just wanted to sit and listen, so Fang Muyang sat up too.

They shared the headphones, sitting side by side, listening to one radio.

In the room lit only by flashlight, the music in their ears was soothing, evoking images of dappled moonlight through leaves, evening breezes caressing cheeks, and gentle lovers’ kisses. Time stretched out, frame by frame in slow motion, allowing not just for the moment but for savoring it afterward. Fei Ni’s heart raced—this was her first time listening to a foreign station, and beside her sat her accomplice. It was her first time sharing such a “misdeed” with another person. Before, when she had salvaged forbidden books from the waste collection station, she’d read them alone, not daring to tell even her parents—not from fear they’d report her, but because each additional person who knew added another complication.

Now she and Fang Muyang had committed a “transgression” together, sharing a secret that even real married couples might not share.

Since both were involved, neither could report the other.

Sharing such a secret naturally brought them closer together.

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