The snow fell increasingly heavily, showing no signs of stopping.
No one knew how long this snow would last.
This was the year’s first snowfall. No matter how many times it snowed in a year, the first snow was always somehow different.
A mist covered Fei Ni’s face, like breath on a windowpane, as if her face were pressed against the outer glass.
Her eyes were also slightly damp.
She looked at Fang Muyang with these eyes and said, “Since we can’t do it anyway, let’s turn off the lights.”
“Do you want to?”
Fei Ni’s fingers twisted together as she said in a very low voice: “It’s fine if we don’t. Isn’t this nice as it is?”
Though she felt uncomfortable, she didn’t think it was related to their inability to proceed.
Fang Muyang took her hand to touch his non-standard part, “But I want to.”
She wanted to pull away, but Fang Muyang held her hand firmly.
Her hand was forced to know how much he wanted it.
“Feel it.”
Fei Ni said reluctantly: “Feel it yourself.”
“But it likes you, won’t you give it a kiss?”
“Xiao Fang, you’re shameless.”
Fang Muyang didn’t argue, holding her hand as his hair brushed against her chin, nuzzling the mole he had drawn in his painting, making Fei Ni ticklish down to her feet. His movements weren’t forceful, even carrying a hint of pitiful pleading.
Fei Ni knew he was begging her, but her heart was firm – she would not agree to such requests. He was tickling her to death, and following his request, she applied slightly more pressure with her hand. She almost resented what she held in her hand, as it became increasingly non-standard.
Fei Ni witnessed how Fang Muyang “bullied the soft and feared the hard” – wherever was soft, he would bully it, wherever he could show his strength. His hair wasn’t soft, yet he insisted on pressing it against soft places; his teeth were hard, able to chew anything tough, yet he chose to bite the softest things, biting once then kissing and sucking as if giving a sweet date after a slap.
Fei Ni was nearly crying from his bullying, “Please don’t, I’m uncomfortable.” And she didn’t know how to resolve this discomfort, only knowing that Fang Muyang had given it to her.
But Fang Muyang wouldn’t listen.
She angrily applied more pressure with her hand, “It’s not my fault we can’t do it, yet you just keep bullying me.”
It was all because of him – what difference did it make whether she wanted to or not?
This wasn’t a question of wanting or not but of possibility. Tonight was impossible, and tomorrow would be too. The pamphlet mentioned methods besides this one: there were short-term pills to be taken twenty-two days a month, though you couldn’t do it immediately after taking them, and there were injections – all of these required prescriptions from doctors at hospitals or pharmacies. The simplest option was what the factory and pharmacy had given her, but who told him to be non-standard?
Fang Muyang tried to comfort her with his hand, “It’s my fault, don’t be angry.”
His comfort made Fei Ni feel even worse.
“I’m not blaming you, Xiao Fang. Maybe I should go sleep upstairs.” Away from Fang Muyang, she should feel less uncomfortable.
“But I want to be with you.” Fang Muyang held Fei Ni’s hand as he came close to speak with her. Fei Ni bit her lip and asked, “Is this okay?”
Fang Muyang touched her mouth, and Fei Ni touched his back.
His sweat fell on her face, and Fei Ni could tell he was also uncomfortable. She wanted to help him feel better.
She imitated Fang Muyang, gradually pressing her face against his lips, brushing his nose tip, and then kissing his mouth. She thought he was somewhat pitiful – he had wanted to accomplish this earlier, but now had failed, and who knew when they could succeed. In comparison, she was better off; she hadn’t particularly yearned for it before, only treating it as a formal marriage ritual, but marriage certificates and rings were also rituals, and they weren’t missing those.
She was uncomfortable, thinking it was from Fang Muyang’s torment, not recognizing it as an unfulfilled desire. So she thought only Fang Muyang was pitiful.
Fei Ni’s hand followed Fang Muyang’s guidance; whatever he wanted her to do, she did. Even though she found those movements embarrassing.
While her hand did those things, she still kissed him intimately, using her other hand to stroke his hair, counting the strands, losing count before reaching five each time. He could tell her about his discomfort, but she wouldn’t tell him hers, thinking he could do nothing about it anyway.
Fei Ni’s hand sensed something was different, but before she could say anything, Fang Muyang held her tightly, forcefully covering her mouth with his. Fei Ni kissed and bit back, her teeth pressing hard as if only this could slightly ease her discomfort. Though this was like drinking poison to quench thirst, only made her more uncomfortable.
Thinking that Fang Muyang still had to go to work, Fei Ni wouldn’t leave marks on his mouth, moving her biting to places that would be covered by clothes.
She was so uncomfortable that whether the bed sheets and quilts were wrinkled wasn’t even a consideration.
Afterward, her hand was again guided by Fang Muyang to where it had been before. This time, Fang Muyang didn’t teach her hand-in-hand what to do, only kissing her hair, pressing his face against her mouth, rubbing his nose against hers, touching the corner of her mouth, and saying some improper things.
Fei Ni repeated everything once more with a red face.
Her fingers kept trembling, her usually powerful memory failing her now, doing everything differently from before.
But Fang Muyang didn’t correct her. He said: “I don’t know how best to love you.”
His love was without method, his mouth and hands doing completely different things.
They held each other tightly, but the tighter they held, the more insufficient it felt, not knowing how to ease this insufficiency. Kissing and biting only made the insufficiency more pronounced.
At three in the morning, the light was still on, and Fei Ni’s eyes were open, watching the snow falling outside the window.
Fang Muyang went to the washroom to cool off. She was also very hot and planned to go wash her face and hands after he returned.
The door creaked, and Fang Muyang entered, bringing a basin of water with him.
Fang Muyang wrung out a towel to wipe Fei Ni’s face. Her face was very red and hot, and he wiped slowly, methodically, even wiping away the sweat behind her ears. He put the towel back in the water, wrung it out again, and used it to wipe Fei Ni’s hands, wiping each finger individually, even between the fingers.
After finishing, Fang Muyang poured water from the thermos, slowly helping Fei Ni drink it.
Fei Ni was indeed very thirsty, so thirsty she’d forgotten to drink.
After Fei Ni finished drinking, Fang Muyang tucked in her blanket corners, leaving just her head exposed.
After doing all this, Fang Muyang pulled down the quilt from the upper bunk. He gave Fei Ni the ginger-yellow quilt, covering her with it.
Two people, two quilts.
He kissed her forehead, then turned off the light.
Fei Ni lay very properly, pretending to be asleep. As she pretended, she fell asleep.
She couldn’t tell if she woke naturally or was awakened by Fang Muyang’s kisses, as his kisses on her hair were very light.
Fei Ni pulled the quilt up, covering her hair, not letting Fang Muyang kiss it.
Through the quilt, she said to Fang Muyang: “You go wash up first.”
She couldn’t dress in front of him.
This time Fang Muyang didn’t tease her, pulling the quilt down to her chin before leaving.
After dressing, Fei Ni hurriedly went to look in the mirror, wearing her slippers.
Her lips weren’t swollen, but unfortunately, her face was red. She planned to apply more face cream.
Last night had been too difficult to endure; today she definitely couldn’t sleep with him again.
She even felt somewhat envious of Fang Muyang – the training class was a temporary unit, unlike her factory which distributed unusable items every month. Those standard sizes given to her were just a waste, and she really couldn’t bring herself to ask if there were other sizes. After receiving standard sizes for two months, suddenly asking for different ones – what would others think of her?
Breakfast was milk powder and pastries. Fei Ni hugged the cookie tin and gave two more pieces to Fang Muyang, “Eat a bit more.”
She lowered her head, saying softly: “Don’t look at me like that.”
Fang Muyang was just observing her. Honestly, his gaze was much more proper than his behavior.
But Fei Ni always felt there was hidden meaning in it.
Previously, Fang Muyang would have asked Fei Ni what she meant by “like that,” but this time he only said: “Wait for me at the factory gate after work, I’ll take you to see a movie.”
“What movie?” She hadn’t heard of any new movies recently.
“‘Waterloo Bridge.'”
“Which country’s film?”
“American. An old film from the 1940s, recently re-translated.” His parents had watched this film when they were young.
“How can there be American movies?” Before, foreign films were Soviet or Polish, now Romanian or Albanian – how could American films be allowed in theaters?
“It’s an internal showing, not open to the public. I’ll pick you up after work.”
“Okay.”
Fang Muyang reached out to touch Fei Ni’s lips, “You have milk powder here.”
“I’ll do it myself.”
Before leaving, Fei Ni applied twice as much face cream as usual, as if this could hide the redness on her face.
Snow covered the ground. Fei Ni found a clean spot and made a snowball, pressing it against her face. Fang Muyang came out with her and stood watching her foolishness from not far away. Fei Ni threw the snowball at him, but worried about wetting his clothes, she aimed only at his trouser cuffs.
Director Yao kept his word, and Fei Ni received her bonus.
During the lunch break, Fei Ni borrowed Sister Liu’s bicycle and rushed to the nearby bookstore, spending all her bonus on comic books.
More than twenty identical comic books.
Every colleague in Fei Ni’s work group received one of her comic books.
Her colleagues were all polite to Fei Ni, saying the comics were drawn beautifully, with so many characters – how many strokes it must have taken.
Fei Ni accepted all the praise, whether appropriate or not.
She said: “If you like it, you can recommend it to others.”
Sister Liu said: “If you want recommendations, newspaper recommendations are most effective. Old Yu from Workshop Four in our factory has been published in the newspaper before. Give him a copy and let him write something for you.”
Another female worker said: “Old Yu only published a tiny piece in the newspaper. I think his level isn’t even as good as Little Fei’s. Why don’t you write it yourself, Little Fei?”
Sister Liu said: “Wouldn’t that be like a shopkeeper praising their melons?”
“Who knows Little Fei and he are a couple? Even if you’re worried about people knowing, Little Fei, you can use our names – let us have some recognition too.”
Fei Ni didn’t say anything but thought this method could work. She planned to write a review when she got home tonight.
She didn’t mention this again but instead asked if anyone had extra fabric coupons they could lend or sell her. She wanted to make a cotton jacket – she could take apart a quilt for the cotton, but she couldn’t use quilt fabric for the outer layer.
Having just received her comic books, everyone felt obliged to be generous. Bit by bit, they managed to collect enough.
The only thing that made Fei Ni unhappy that day was the factory distributing family planning supplies again.
She almost asked, red-faced, if there were other sizes, but the words didn’t even reach her lips before being swallowed.
If she had asked right after getting married, people would at most teased her for choosing Fang Muyang for being “tall and big,” but having married in summer and asking about different sizes in winter, people might suspect her conduct.
She took home four more useless items.
However, this was just an interlude. When she came out of the factory and saw Fang Muyang, her eyes couldn’t help but show a trace of happiness.