At that time, even a simple embrace in a movie could cause a sensation. Many people who were usually conservative in daily life would buy movie tickets just to see scenes with physical contact. But in the movie Fei Ni was watching, hugging and kissing were ordinary occurrences.

In all her years, this was the first time Fei Ni had seen such scenes in a movie theater.

In the darkness, Fang Muyang held Fei Ni’s hand, drawing on it. Her hand grew increasingly warm, and though she wanted to pull away, his grip was too firm for her to move.

Fei Ni’s heart pounded, but her eyes never left the screen for a second. From the moment the movie began, she had been counting the female characters’ hats. Though she couldn’t claim much love for her work, years of professional habit compelled her to notice these details. When she first started working, woolen hats were all the rage nationwide – whoever had one of these hats was considered fashionable.

Working at the factory, she could buy hats directly with money instead of needing coupons. As soon as she got her salary, she bought one of these woolen hats and sent it to her brother who was sent down to Inner Mongolia. She was very young then, eager to progress but completely ignorant of the standards for advancement. Though frustrated about not getting into university, she was enthusiastic about work.

She even wrote a long letter to the factory director with suggestions about the limited hat varieties, including several hat designs she’d drawn based on books and movies. Her drawing skills were far inferior to Fang Muyang’s but sufficient to convey her meaning. That letter never received a response.

Those intimate scenes were indeed enough to make one’s face flush and heart race, especially when her hand was tingling. But Fei Ni didn’t focus on the romance in the film; she had too many other things to pay attention to – the love story was the least significant part.

The film was dubbed with Chinese subtitles. Whenever Fei Ni heard the Chinese dubbing, she tried to guess what the original English dialogue would have been. One line after another, her mind worked to determine which English phrases would be closest to the original. When there was no dialogue, her eyes greedily took in the costumes and decorations.

Her understanding of that world could only come through films, even if this one was from the 1940s.

Another intimate scene appeared, and Fei Ni avoided looking at the kissing couple, focusing instead on the background and the leading actress’s clothes.

She realized she had been constrained by years of movie-watching experience. In her previous films, even when love was involved, the word “love” was never mentioned, let alone these physical expressions of affection. The novels she read expressed feelings much more passionately, but text and visual impact were two different things. When the couple embraced on screen, her first instinct was to look away.

The people in the auditorium seemed accustomed to these scenes, especially the person beside her. She glanced casually at Fang Muyang; his eyes were calm and ordinary, viewing these intimate scenes as naturally as eating or drinking. Watching the movie didn’t prevent him from teasing her hand.

The auditorium, reserved for showing films to a select few, embarrassingly lost power.

The screen went black.

Fei Ni felt someone touch her right cheek, then touch it again, not satisfied with it once. Her fingernails scratched at Fang Muyang, telling him to behave.

His fingers held her hand, growing increasingly bold in her palm.

People surrounded them – front, back, left, and right. Fei Ni’s heart was in her throat.

Fortunately, the power returned, and everyone’s attention returned to the film.

The people on screen resumed embracing and kissing, and Fei Ni continued capturing background details with her eyes.

English words raced through her mind, matching the translated Chinese.

When the female lead lost her job, Fei Ni’s attention finally turned to the plot.

The protagonist lost her work, had no means to live, and mistakenly believed her lover had died. For survival, she was forced into prostitution. What ultimately broke her wasn’t the transactions with various men, but reuniting with her lover… While drawn to the beautiful future he promised, she felt unworthy, ultimately choosing to end her life in self-loathing.

Leaving the auditorium, Fei Ni still regrets the protagonist’s choice of suicide. She believed the protagonist’s tragedy began with losing her job. Besides, no matter what, being alive was always better.

The film told a love story, but Fei Ni understood it as a horror story about unemployment.

Outside the auditorium, Fei Ni covered her head with a long scarf and jumped onto the bicycle’s back seat, putting both hands in Fang Muyang’s coat pockets.

The north wind howled, disheveling Fei Ni’s forehead hair. The snow along the roads hadn’t melted – though sanitation workers had cleared it, ice remained on the ground. The moonlight scattered on the ground carried a chill everywhere. Fei Ni’s hands in Fang Muyang’s pockets gripped tighter as she asked him, “Are your hands cold?”

“No.”

But Fei Ni thought in such cold weather, without even a pair of gloves, he must be cold. She had a woolen hat she could unravel to knit him a pair of gloves.

Fang Muyang told Fei Ni: “When Americans get traditional, their films follow the same path as our centuries-old traditional drama, still pushing that chaste and virtuous woman narrative. Next time I’ll show you something different.”

“Where did you get the tickets?”

“Got them from someone. They’re not sold to the public.”

Fei Ni asked Fang Muyang, also asking herself: “When will these kinds of movies be officially shown in theaters?”

The evil capitalists – these films should really be shown in theaters nationwide for everyone to criticize. Why should only a select few have the right to criticize?

Fei Ni remembered – this was the source of her subtle feelings about Fang Muyang before. She had no issue with him living in a big house or learning violin from the orchestra’s concertmaster, but she took issue with him being able to watch internal screenings that few could see, and shop at stores where few could go. Why should movie-watching be divided into classes? Even if she couldn’t afford things in those stores, why couldn’t she at least look?

But when the Fang family lost these privileges, she felt no joy. She hoped children from ordinary families like hers could watch the same movies and visit the same stores as them – she didn’t want everyone to be unable to access these things.

She worried about both inequality and universal poverty.

Others living as poorly as her brought her no comfort.

Fang Muyang said: “It will be possible in the future.”

In the cold wind, Fang Muyang suddenly said: “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone else.”

Fei Ni turned her head to look at the roadside, her heart beating fast, and then realized these were lines from the movie.

Fang Muyang repeated the lines again.

Fei Ni translated the words back to English, softly reciting them.

The wind howled past, and even Fei Ni couldn’t hear what she’d said.

Though Fei Ni wasn’t lightly dressed, when the northwest wind blew, she still held Fang Muyang tightly.

As soon as they got home, Fei Ni took out paper and pen, bending over the table to write.

Fang Muyang came over to look, but Fei Ni covered her writing with her hand.

“What are you writing that you’re afraid to let me see?”

“You’ll know soon enough.”

“You can’t let me know now?”

“No.”

Fei Ni was writing a review of the comic book.

Fang Muyang sat beside her, copying pictures from the art book.

After finishing the review, Fei Ni took out her woolen hat and began unraveling it. Fang Muyang needed a pair of gloves for cycling.

She told Fang Muyang: “I’m going to knit you a pair of gloves and make you a cotton jacket. I’ll be very busy. You’ll have to make breakfast from now on.”

Fang Muyang readily agreed. He’d received his allowance today, and as agreed, gave half to Fei Ni.

That night, they lay on the same bed listening to the radio. Fang Muyang extended his arm as Fei Ni’s pillow, occasionally kissing her.

“Can you say that English again from before?”

“When did I say anything today?”

Fang Muyang repeated: “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone else.”

“I never said that.”

“I said it, then you said something after – I couldn’t hear clearly at the time.”

“You’re mistaken, I didn’t say anything.”

Fang Muyang breathed on his palm and went to find Fei Ni’s ticklish spots. Fei Ni rolled around laughing uncontrollably.

She rolled into Fang Muyang’s arms, and he held her shoulders.

Fei Ni laughed so hard she couldn’t catch her breath, instinctively covering her mouth to prevent more laughter from escaping. Fang Muyang kissed her fingers.

He kissed her while continuing to try to tickle her.

“Stop it.”

“Then let me hear what you said before.”

Fei Ni said in English, you’re shameless.

Fang Muyang said that’s not it.

Fei Ni said in English, you’re just a fool.

Fang Muyang said, not that either.

Fei Ni deliberately refused to give him what he wanted, saying in English that Fang Muyang just liked to bully her.

Whether Fang Muyang understood her words or she had revealed his true nature was unclear.

He breathed on his palm again, but this time Fei Ni couldn’t roll away – she was held tight by Fang Muyang, only able to struggle in his embrace. His hand didn’t stop; wherever she was ticklish, he would touch.

She laughed from the tickling while Fang Muyang insisted on kissing the corners of her mouth, touching very lightly, making her even more ticklish. He held her hands, preventing her from covering her mouth, and letting her laughter escape uncontrollably.

Fei Ni couldn’t help but beg: “Please, stop teasing.”

“Say something nice.”

“Hooligan!”

Fang Muyang tickled her lightly again. “Still not nice enough, think again.”

“Fool.”

“Better, but still not quite there. Think harder.”

Fei Ni really couldn’t take it anymore. “No one’s better than you, please stop.”

Fang Muyang’s hand touched Fei Ni lightly again. “That’s not what I want to hear.”

“Let me go, and I’ll tell you.”

“I don’t trust you. If you’re embarrassed, whisper it in my ear.”

Fei Ni had no choice but to lean close and softly say something nice to him.

Fang Muyang didn’t keep his promise, hugging Fei Ni as he rolled over.

Fei Ni had laughed so hard she started coughing. Fang Muyang patted her back, and when she stopped coughing, he went to get her water.

“You just like to bully me.”

“You can bully me too.”

“I’m not as boring as you.”

Fei Ni had been ignoring Fang Muyang but couldn’t resist his friendliness and started talking to him again.

Fang Muyang told Fei Ni he’d received his allowance today and exchanged it for foreign exchange certificates, but the Friendship Store mainly served foreigners. Chinese citizens needed either a passport or an international seaman’s certificate to enter. He had neither, so their only option was for Fei Ni to pretend to be an overseas Chinese student.

“You’re joking.”

According to Fang Muyang’s plan, Fei Ni’s new identity would be that of an overseas Chinese whose parents lived abroad. She had come to study in her ancestral country out of admiration for her mother country’s culture but still couldn’t speak fluent Mandarin, only able to communicate in English.

“I’m serious.”

“Don’t you need documents for that?”

“Just say in English that you forgot your documents, and we have foreign exchange certificates. Trust me, your English is good enough to convince them you’re an international student.”

Fei Ni had heard of the Friendship Store but had never been. She wanted to see inside.

Seeing Fei Ni’s hesitation, Fang Muyang said: “We have foreign exchange certificates – shopping at the Friendship Store is contributing to our country’s foreign exchange earnings.”

“You think they’ll believe it?”

“You have a quality that makes people willing to be deceived.” What Fang Muyang didn’t say was that Fei Ni had always maintained a student’s quality, making her perfect for pretending to be an international student.

Without a passport, this was his only way to take Fei Ni shopping there.

Fei Ni laughed: “You’re mocking me again.”

“How dare I mock you?”

Fang Muyang finally convinced Fei Ni, and she decided to try.

Early the next morning, Fei Ni put on the short coat Fang Muyang had bought her. He buttoned it up for her one button at a time, arranged her scarf, and held a mirror to her face. “See? I told you you look the part.”

Fei Ni proved better at lying than she’d imagined. Though her heart raced while lying, her face remained calm. With Fang Muyang beside her, skilled in deception, they easily entered the Friendship Store.

Fei Ni and Fang Muyang went to the second floor first to look at clothing.

Fei Ni looked around with great interest, though they couldn’t afford anything with their foreign exchange certificates. She quickly settled into her new role, speaking English with the store staff.

Fei Ni’s eyes were drawn to a piece of Suzhou embroidery.

Fang Muyang asked her: “Do you like this?”

Fei Ni examined it carefully again.

Fang Muyang said: “Let’s ask the price first, then come back when we have money. My second comic book will be finished soon.”

Fei Ni smiled and said: “If you like something, just look at it – why must you buy it? Let’s see if they sell gloves. If they do, we’ll buy a pair. I don’t want to knit anymore.”

She stopped looking at the embroidery and went to look at gloves. Fang Muyang didn’t follow her.

The store had many foreigners – students, official visitors, and a new group: foreign tourists. Foreign tourists coming to China required strict approval and weren’t numerous, but when a group gathered together, they made quite a sight.

While Fei Ni was selecting gloves, a young man with blonde hair and blue eyes came over to talk to her. Based on her reading experience, it seemed like he was trying to strike up a conversation.