Su Yu rarely showed kindness to those she looked down upon, and if such people tried to curry favor with her, her disdain only grew stronger. Initially thinking Fang Muyang was someone who got in through connections, after seeing his work and realizing his genuine talent, she changed her attitude.

Toward those she respected, she had always been generous.

When Fang Muyang came to the publishing house, Su Yu handed him an envelope containing her unused fabric coupons and purchase vouchers, generously offering them for his use.

Fang Muyang opened the envelope to find a stack of fabric coupons and purchase vouchers bearing special supply marks.

He took two purchase vouchers, expressing gratitude for their timely arrival—his wife needed them to buy face cream. After taking the vouchers, Fang Muyang returned the envelope to Su Yu, and to show his appreciation, suggested, “Let me treat you to lunch.”

That Fang Muyang was married came as a complete surprise to Su Yu. He didn’t seem like a married man, not because of his age, but his demeanor. She felt married men carried a different air about them. She had met married men younger than Fang Muyang before, but none had surprised her quite like this.

Startled, Su Yu’s expression briefly slipped out of control, but she quickly regained her composure and pushed the envelope back toward him. “Keep it for yourself. If you need help, just let me know. I might be able to assist.”

After learning of Fang Muyang’s marriage, Su Yu deliberately acted more generous than before, not wanting him to think she was giving him things out of any particular interest.

Fang Muyang didn’t take the envelope, explaining that his wife was currently making his clothes, so he didn’t need fabric coupons at the moment. However, to show his gratitude for the two purchase vouchers, he still insisted on treating her to lunch in the cafeteria.

During lunch, Su Yu casually asked about his wife’s occupation.

Fang Muyang answered truthfully.

That Fang Muyang had married early, to a worker from the hat factory, somewhat surprised Su Yu. Though she wrote articles about factories, she knew little about factory workers and didn’t understand how a workshop worker lived. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with the factory workers but found it difficult to connect such a life with the person before her.

“Why did you marry so early?” Afraid Fang Muyang might misunderstand, Su Yu explained, “I don’t mean anything by it, I’m just curious. Few people at the publishing house, male or female, marry as early as you did.”

Fang Muyang smiled and said, “When I met her, I suddenly realized marriage was a wonderful thing.”

His answer didn’t directly address the question, but Su Yu could tell he was very satisfied with his marriage. This made her even more curious about Fang Muyang’s wife.

With the two purchase vouchers, Fang Muyang bought a jar of face cream for Fei Ni.

Occasionally, Fang Muyang would catch the scent of face cream from Fei Ni’s face. While she made clothes, he would ask her to tell him about the book she’d read the previous night. Fei Ni would think for a moment before recounting the plot.

Fang Muyang asked, “Is that all there is to the story?”

Fei Ni omitted all the romantic parts, only relating the war scenes, despite this not being primarily a war novel.

Fei Ni lied skillfully: “That’s all there is. If you don’t believe me, read it yourself. You think I’d lie to you?”

Fang Muyang smiled: “I wish I could read it myself, but I can’t understand it, can I? Take pity on this semi-literate and translate the story for me.”

Fei Ni thought for a moment and said, “All right, but only after I finish making your clothes. I don’t have time now.”

The weather was getting colder, but it wasn’t yet time for central heating. Fang Muyang only had a sweater—he desperately needed a thick coat.

Despite what she’d said, Fei Ni would still sit on Fang Muyang’s bed before sleeping, softly translating the book for him. While translating, she often skipped parts she didn’t want to translate.

Sometimes when Fang Muyang heard Fei Ni translating so quickly, he’d ask, “How can there be so few sentences on one page? Are you playing tricks on me?”

Fei Ni would show him the book, laughing, “That’s all there is. I can’t just make things up.”

Fang Muyang smiled: “Then read the English to me.”

“I thought you couldn’t understand it?”

“That’s exactly why I need to learn. Having a ready-made teacher right beside me—it would be a real waste not to learn.”

Fei Ni had no choice but to read quietly, afraid others might hear. They sat very close, close enough to hear each other’s breathing. When she came to passages that made her heart race, she didn’t skip them since Fang Muyang couldn’t understand anyway, reading word by word.

“Your pronunciation is so lovely. Could you read it again, more slowly?”

Fei Ni had to read it again, deliberately slowing her pace.

Sometimes while she read, Fang Muyang would look at the book. He pointed to “kiss” and asked Fei Ni, “Doesn’t this mean ‘to eat’?”

Fei Ni wasn’t sure if he didn’t know or was pretending, so she said, “You don’t even know this word?” Though it was entirely possible.

“You know my junior high education was practically nonexistent. Doesn’t this word mean ‘eat’? I seem to remember that.”

“Of course not. You’re always thinking about eating.” Fei Ni poked his forehead. “Look it up in the dictionary yourself.”

“With a living dictionary right here, why would I go to all that trouble?” Fang Muyang’s finger traced her lips. “Tell me what it means. Let me learn.”

Fei Ni explained in a low voice, but Fang Muyang’s hearing suddenly became less acute, asking her to repeat it.

Fei Ni called him truly stupid, quickly kissed his cheek, and said, “That’s what it means. Do you understand now?”

Fang Muyang wrapped an arm around her shoulders, laughing, “But I think sometimes this word is similar to eating.”

“How could they be similar? They’re completely different.”

Fang Muyang pecked her lips, asking if the word couldn’t also be interpreted as “eating.”

Fei Ni ignored him.

Fang Muyang treated Fei Ni’s lips like a midnight snack, nibbling for a while before asking her to continue translating.

Fei Ni would read a passage, and Fang Muyang would ask for explanations. Sometimes when Fei Ni deliberately skipped a sentence, Fang Muyang would specifically ask for its meaning.

Suspecting he was teasing her, Fei Ni said, “Read it yourself. Don’t you know quite a bit?”

“I don’t know nearly as much as you. I only recognize a few characters and can’t even pronounce them. Please teach me more.”

Fei Ni wouldn’t fall for his trick: “If you want to learn English, start by memorizing the dictionary. Besides, knowing English or not doesn’t affect your work.” She wouldn’t take his bait.

Though her last statement was true. While she could read novels in English, she didn’t think it would help her prospects, treating it merely as entertainment. She felt that even if Fang Muyang truly didn’t know what “kiss” meant, it wouldn’t affect his life.

“Read one more page. I won’t disturb you.”

“Really?”

“Really. Why so distrustful?”

Fei Ni indeed didn’t trust him but still read another page. While she read, Fang Muyang kept his word about not disturbing her, though he continued proving that the word could indeed be interpreted as “eating.”

Fei Ni covered his mouth with her finger, “We start choir practice tomorrow, and swollen lips would look awful.”

“They won’t swell.”

Fei Ni insisted: “Let’s wait until after the performance.”

The factory was organizing a show, and each workshop had to contribute a performance. The workshop’s program was managed by Feng Lin, who decided on a choir performance, and Fei Ni was chosen as one of the singers. Fei Ni had offended Feng Lin over the bulletin board incident, and Feng Lin paid special attention to her during rehearsals. Fei Ni’s speaking voice was naturally quiet, and her singing voice wasn’t prominent. Feng Lin, apparently noticing this, commented that certain people were just going through the motions, lacking collective spirit, only taking advantage of the group without contributing when needed, yet stepping forward to claim credit. She then singled out Fei Ni, asking her to perform a solo. Though Fei Ni made hats for a living, being labeled as “lacking collective spirit” was hard to bear, so she sang without concern for protecting her vocal cords. When Feng Lin couldn’t find fault with her performance, she just said she hoped Fei Ni would show the same effort during the choir performance.

Due to choir practice, Fei Ni returned home an hour later than usual each day. She gave Fang Muyang money and food coupons, telling him to eat dinner without waiting for her. But Fang Muyang waited to eat with her every day. Worried about her throat, he even prepared throat lozenges for her.

When Fei Ni got home, she quickly ate dinner, then put down her bowl to work on Fang Muyang’s clothes, no longer reading the novel.

Three days before the performance, another problem arose—choir conductor Feng Lin suddenly sprained her ankle and went to the infirmary. It was clear she wouldn’t recover in time, and with the performance the next day, they needed a conductor. After some discussion without conclusion, Sister Liu stepped forward to suggest Fei Ni, mentioning she had previously been in a choir.

Fei Ni initially didn’t want to step up. Feng Lin had conducted for so many days, and if Fei Ni took her place at this crucial moment, Feng Lin might take issue with it, especially given their previous conflict. But with the performance tomorrow and everyone having practiced for so long, she couldn’t worry about such things and reluctantly agreed.

She didn’t tell Fang Muyang about this, knowing that even if no one was looking to find fault with her, swollen lips would look unsightly.

The day before the performance, Fei Ni finished making Fang Muyang’s trousers and coat. Hearing on the radio that heavy snow was expected tomorrow, she remarked that the snow was early this year while feeling relieved—if the snow had come a day earlier, Fang Muyang would have suffered, as a sweater alone couldn’t withstand heavy snow.

As predicted by the weather forecast, it began snowing when the performance ended.

Fei Ni’s workshop performance won first prize at the factory, and as conductor, Fei Ni received an extra towel and bar of soap compared to other choir members.

But the extra towel and soap didn’t make Fei Ni happy. It was payday, and she didn’t receive any bonus.

At first, Fei Ni thought the accounting department had made a mistake, but they told her her bonus had been withheld.

After work, she went to find the workshop director. Deputy Director Yao told her the bonus was withheld because she hadn’t completed her assigned task of maintaining the bulletin board, abandoning it without permission and setting a bad example for the collective. He explained that if they didn’t punish her, others might follow suit. He assured her that if she continued to consider the collective’s interests as she had with the choir, her bonus wouldn’t be withheld in the future.

Fei Ni disagreed with Director Yao’s explanation: “The bonus should only be tied to my primary duties. The bulletin board was Feng Lin’s responsibility, not my main job. If I didn’t do it well, then I shouldn’t receive the five-yuan allowance for it, but you must give me my bonus. I’ve never made a mistake in my work and have done all required overtime.”

For the sake of this withheld bonus, Fei Ni forgot her usual careful way of conducting herself at the factory. She demanded Director Yao produce written regulations proving the legitimacy of withholding her bonus, declaring she wouldn’t leave until he did.

Fang Muyang’s first comic book was published, and Editor-in-Chief Fu invited him to a small gathering at his home. Fang Muyang thanked Editor Fu for his kindness but explained that it was his wife’s birthday, promising to treat Editor Fu to a meal another day.

The snow fell harder. After waiting half an hour at home for Fei Ni without seeing her return, Fang Muyang rode his bicycle to wait at the factory gate.