HomeLove Story in the 1970sThe Pragmatist’s Love - Chapter 50

The Pragmatist’s Love – Chapter 50

Early Tuesday morning, Fang Muyang told Fei Ni that she didn’t need to go to the cafeteria after work, as they would have crab for dinner.

At the publishing house, Fang Muyang encountered Ling Yi. While she had always carried an air of melancholy, even through university and into her working years, today she radiated joy. Ling Yi quietly confided in Fang Muyang that her father might be reinstated at work. When she asked about his parents, Fang Muyang simply said he didn’t know. He had mailed some Chinese medicine to his parents a few days ago, and this morning received a letter encouraging him to work hard. His correspondence with his parents was limited; the few letters they exchanged mostly urged him to be a good “cog in the machine,” mentioning nothing else.

Ling Yi invited Fang Muyang to dinner at her home, as someone had gifted them a basket of crabs. It was this basket of crabs that made Ling Yi sense a change—the first time in many years that someone had voluntarily brought a gift to their home. It was a good omen.

She had been getting to know a young man from the Service Bureau, but because of this promising sign, she completely lost interest in him. Now that she might not have to worry about survival, she rediscovered Fang Muyang’s appealing qualities.

Fang Muyang thanked Ling Yi for her kindness but explained that he had already made dinner plans with Fei Ni, promising to visit another time.

The joy drained from Ling Yi’s face, though she managed a forced smile and said, “Oh, I see.”

Struggling to control her emotions, she asked in a relatively natural tone, “Do you two have anything in common?” She doubted it—how could two people with such different backgrounds and experiences connect? She could understand why Fang Muyang had married Fei Ni before Fei Ni came from a politically correct background, was pretty—even though Ling Yi disliked her, she had to admit Fei Ni wasn’t bad-looking—and had a proper job. Though she felt sorry for Fang Muyang, she had to admit that marrying Fei Ni was a practical choice. What she couldn’t understand was why Fei Ni had agreed to marry Fang Muyang, whose only practical advantage was his painting ability, which hadn’t even shown any financial benefits when they married—he didn’t even have a proper job then.

But if she thought, Fang Muyang’s parents were reinstated at work, that would change everything.

Fang Muyang smiled and said, “I didn’t finish middle school, while she completed high school. I’m working hard to improve my education so I can converse with her better. Thank you for reminding me.”

As soon as work ended, Fei Ni rushed to the bathhouse—any later and she’d have to wait for the next batch. The bathhouse was where Fei Ni could learn about everything happening in the factory, from major events to practical life tips. Topics ranged from new factory leadership appointments to how to pickle small radishes. Winter was approaching, and vegetables were scarce except for stored Chinese cabbage and a few other options. To ensure more variety during winter, people exercised great ingenuity, including preserving whatever vegetables they could find in the market. Of course, given the scarcity of unmarried young women, there were also occasional jokes about relationships between men and women.

Fei Ni usually rushed through her bath to avoid such jokes. But today she stayed longer than usual, somewhat afraid to face Fang Muyang. Her period had ended, and she didn’t know how to respond if he made any advances. She couldn’t think of an effective way to refuse, and her mind kept wandering to the sounds from next door. Last Saturday had taught her that quilts had limited soundproofing capabilities—they could block radio sounds but couldn’t prevent the creaking of Wang Xiaoman’s bed from reaching her ears.

Not only did Fei Ni bathe slowly, but she also walked home more slowly than usual. Downstairs, she saw their low cabinet, already assembled and coated with clear varnish, drying outside.

Just as she entered, Fang Muyang asked, “Why are you so late today?”

Fei Ni casually replied, “Something came up at the factory.”

Her eyes fixed on Fang Muyang, doubting what she saw.

He sat at the piano with the lid open, tuning it.

Fei Ni had always felt the piano’s tuning was off, but being her first piano, she had been forgiving of its flaws.

While Fang Muyang’s furniture-making skills, ability to cook abalone noodles, and talent for steaming egg custard had surprised her slightly, nothing had shocked her as much as this scene. Just two days ago, he had played with curved fingers—a posture she had never seen anyone else use. Whenever she showed the slightest frustration, he would stare into her eyes and ask if she thought he was stupid and didn’t want to teach him anymore. Of course, she would deny this and become even more patient.

But now this man, who couldn’t even position his hands correctly on the piano, was tuning her instrument.

“Didn’t you say you couldn’t play the piano?”

Fang Muyang spoke sincerely: “I wish I didn’t know anything about it—that way, I could spend more time with you. Knowing a little became troublesome; I was afraid my pretense wasn’t convincing enough and you’d discover it, causing me to lose an opportunity to be close to you.”

He made himself sound so pitiful that Fei Ni lost any grounds for reproach.

“I know my act wasn’t convincing, but you were kind enough not to expose me. Did I seem ridiculous to you?”

Fei Ni felt the need to correct his assumption, “No, I never thought you were ridiculous.”

“I wanted to buy you a new piano, but with limited funds, I could only get you a used one. Please make do with it for now, and I’ll get you a better one later.”

Fei Ni quickly said, “This piano is already very good.” She watched him for a while before asking, “How do you know how to tune a piano?”

It was possible he had learned furniture-making during his time in the countryside, but knowing how to tune a piano was beyond her expectations.

Fang Muyang smiled, “I only knew how to tune violins before. As for pianos, I just learned recently from a piano tuning book I found at the recycling center. I can promise you though, it won’t sound worse than before.” He had bought the tools earlier, studied the book for several days, and practiced tuning mentally before daring to attempt it today.

“When did you find time to read?” Between his work, furniture-making, and preparing egg custard for her every day, she couldn’t imagine when he had time to study.

“Guess,” he teased.

Being asked to guess at such a moment made Fei Ni both annoyed and amused; she didn’t know what to say to him.

Fang Muyang remembered the crabs weren’t steaming yet and said to Fei Ni, “Wait a moment, let me steam the crabs first.”

Seeing the prepared crabs in the basin, Fei Ni said, “Let me handle it. Just help me light the stove.”

By the time Fang Muyang finished tuning, the crabs were ready.

He had bought not just crabs, but also yellow wine and a package of preserved plums.

Fang Muyang warmed the wine in water and poured Fei Ni half a small cup without asking if she wanted any.

“Try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll drink the rest.”

Fei Ni took a sip. Given how much he had spent, she couldn’t say it wasn’t good, and besides, she didn’t want to leave him her leftover wine.

While cleaning the crabs, Fei Ni, distracted by her thoughts, pricked her finger. Fang Muyang noticed and took her hand, caressing the finger. Fei Ni pulled back as if shocked, but he held firm until he confirmed her finger was okay before letting go.

Fang Muyang looked into her eyes and said, “Stop working on the crabs. If you want to do something, go play a piece on the piano while I clean these for you.”

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