The man before her could be called handsome, but Fei Ni didn’t particularly appreciate Western men. She responded with a polite smile.

Years of education had made Fei Ni very cautious when dealing with foreigners, though this caution only manifested in her reluctance to reveal personal information. Her face maintained a smile as she selectively answered questions.

He complimented her excellent spoken English, and Fei Ni said thank you. During her middle school years, English teachers changed frequently, but one female teacher surnamed Chen greatly influenced her. Teacher Chen had graduated from a missionary girls’ school and later studied in England, speaking perfect British English. Fei Ni had learned her pronunciation from her. Teacher Chen only taught for half a year before being reassigned to clean the school.

On mornings when Teacher Chen was cleaning, Fei Ni would secretly give her a milk candy or an orange slice of candy, then walk straight to class without a word, pretending not to see her. She conducted these acts very discreetly, not wanting others to discover her connection with Teacher Chen, but one day someone did notice – it was Fang Muyang. Fei Ni felt both anxious and relieved; relieved because given Fang Muyang’s background, even if he told others, no one would believe him.

Moreover, Fei Ni felt Fang Muyang wouldn’t tell. Logically, someone of his background should have taken a clear stance and distanced himself from his parents and others of similar background, but instead, he acted recklessly. When unfortunate children threw stones at Teacher Chen, Fang Muyang would kick them, telling them to get lost and stop bothering him.

Back then, Fang Muyang was as thin as a monkey from hunger, but even riding his broken bicycle, he maintained an arrogant air, as if his family had been poor peasants for eight generations and no one was more “red” than him.

Others couldn’t do anything about his attitude. Though his family background was bad, everyone knew his father frequently beat him for various reasons – sometimes for stealing money to treat his newly-made poor friends from the hutong to meals, sometimes for taking his father’s Zhonghua cigarettes to give to the security guard. Initially, people tried to win him over, but later gave up when he refused to denounce his family. The consequence of his self-destructive behavior was that he got no factory work assignment, no farm assignment, and could only be sent down to the countryside.

Shortly after Fang Muyang was sent down, Teacher Chen went to the countryside, and Fei Ni never saw her again.

Fei Ni used the pronunciation she had copied from Teacher Chen to converse with the man before her.

She graciously accepted his compliments and, out of politeness, sincerely praised him in return.

While smiling and talking with him, she searched for Fang Muyang’s shadow.

She wondered: where had he gone?

Soon through their conversation, Fei Ni gained a general understanding of him. Hack lived in New York and had traveled to many countries alone, but this was his first time in China. He wanted to break away from his tour group to explore independently and asked if Fei Ni would be his guide.

Hack wanted to offer payment but feared offending the young woman before him. From her manner and speech, he guessed she neither would nor needed to be a guide for money.

Fei Ni politely but firmly refused. They had just met, and he was a foreigner – traveling together would create unnecessary trouble.

Hack showed slight disappointment but quickly changed the subject, wanting to chat longer. He said he wanted to buy some Oriental items from the store to take back and asked for Fei Ni’s recommendations.

As Fei Ni was explaining, Fang Muyang appeared. He put his arm around her shoulders, speaking to her intimately.

Fei Ni asked Fang Muyang: “Where did you go just now?”

“You’ll know tonight.”

Fang Muyang seemed to notice the foreigner-only then, smiling in greeting.

Hack asked Fei Ni: “Is this your boyfriend?”

Their intimacy was obvious at a glance.

Hack was considered tall among his countrymen, but Fang Muyang was slightly taller. His manner differed greatly from what Hack imagined of Chinese people.

Before Fei Ni could speak, Fang Muyang answered in English: “I’m her husband.”

Fang Muyang’s accent made Hack feel more comfortable than Fei Ni’s British English. Fei Ni’s English even inspired some awe in him – her vocabulary was extraordinarily rich, using words rarely heard in casual conversation that even many Americans might not know. Her speech was too formal for casual chat – who talks like that? Yet coming from her, it seemed natural, without any affectation. Hack struggled to describe Fei Ni until he thought of one word: refined. The word suited both her language and demeanor.

When introducing himself, Fang Muyang deliberately elevated his status. Though he had no formal occupation, he called himself a worker. Hack was also surprised that an ordinary Chinese worker could speak English so naturally. Not fluently, but naturally, like a native speaking their mother tongue.

Fei Ni and Fang Muyang chatted with Hack a while longer. Though they couldn’t be his guides, they recommended several must-see places. Fang Muyang suggested he take embroidery home and explain its history. Fang Muyang used simple words, no complex vocabulary, but combined them to easily express his meaning.

The couple aroused Hack’s curiosity – their language and manners were so different, yet they were married.

Hack enjoyed talking with them and said if they came to New York, they could find him.

Fei Ni thought it was just politeness but was surprised when Hack wanted to give them his contact information.

Fei Ni instinctively wanted to refuse. Past lessons had taught her that communicating with foreigners was dangerous. Speaking briefly in such settings was fine, but keeping contact – even if the other party had no ulterior motives, ill-intentioned people might label her suspiciously.

Before Fei Ni could speak, Fang Muyang gracefully declined: “We have an old saying in our country: if fate brings us together, we’ll meet again if we’re meant to.”

After this, they excused themselves from Hack to go to the third floor.

Fei Ni wanted to look around more on the second floor but feared Hack might continue talking with them. Though Hack must have passed various screenings to travel in China, suggesting his personal history was clean, two Chinese people speaking English at length with a foreigner was very suspicious. This winter’s atmosphere was much more relaxed – if it had been last year, she wouldn’t have dared speak with him at all. They had already talked enough.

Fei Ni asked Fang Muyang: “Weren’t you supposed to be a semi-literate who doesn’t understand English?” Though Fang Muyang’s sentences were simple, Fei Ni was still surprised – he had claimed that in middle school he only learned half of the twenty-six letters, and after years in the countryside had forgotten even those.

“Compared to you, aren’t I semi-literate?”

“I don’t know which of your words are true.”

“My feelings for you are true.”

Fei Ni found him sappy and stopped paying attention to him.

The third floor had many electrical appliances. Though they couldn’t afford anything, it didn’t stop Fei Ni from looking with great interest.

While Fei Ni was carefully examining a television, she heard someone greet Fang Muyang: “Muyang, you’re here too.”

She looked up to see Ling Yi. Beside her was a middle-aged woman who appeared to be her mother.

Fei Ni didn’t know that Ling Yi’s father had just had his position reinstated with back pay. But she did know that Ling Yi’s expression was very different from when she’d seen her at the hospital, where her face had shown inescapable sorrow, and different from when she’d seen her at the Fu house, where Ling Yi had seemed somewhat embarrassed upon seeing her.

Fei Ni didn’t know how to describe the current Ling Yi, but she could be certain of one thing: Ling Yi was very satisfied with her current life.

Ling Yi and her mother were very warm toward Fang Muyang, inviting him to dinner at their home. Ling Yi wanted to discuss his parents’ situation with him, but this public setting wasn’t appropriate for such questions.

Fei Ni was ignored, allowing her to continue examining the television before her.

Fang Muyang wouldn’t leave her in peace, insisting on introducing his beloved to the Ling mother and daughter.

Fei Ni could only smile and nod at them.

“Muyang, what are you buying here?”

Fang Muyang candidly said they were just looking.

“Muyang, if you need any help, just let me know. Given our friendship, I’ll help if I can.” If the current Ling Yi had met Fang Muyang when he was hospitalized, she would have visited him daily. Because no matter how many times she visited him, her life wouldn’t change. Life had been too cruel to her, constantly testing her in different ways, forcing her to show her less beautiful side. She had rediscovered Fang Muyang’s good qualities, qualities that were useless when she was worried about survival. But now, usefulness was no longer her standard for judging people. She no longer needed to consider a man’s job, salary, housing situation, or political background.

“Muyang, come have dinner at my house tonight.”

“Tonight Fei Ni and I are going to my parents’.”

“Uncle Fang is back?” Ling Yi couldn’t help but be surprised – Fang Muyang’s parents had returned to the city. How had her family not heard about such big news?

“No, the old man’s still in the same place. I’m married now, remember? I’m going to my mother-in-law’s.”

“Oh…” Ling Yi’s smile froze momentarily. “Come to my house whenever you have time, you’re always welcome.”

All these “Muyang”s were getting on Fei Ni’s nerves.

Fei Ni said, “Fang Muyang, let’s go look at the second floor.” She emphasized the “Fang” particularly heavily.

Fang Muyang gave Ling Yi no chance to speak further, bidding her farewell and compliantly following Fei Ni downstairs.

“I’ll save money to buy you a television in the future.”

Fei Ni said, “Televisions are so boring, just a few programs a year, and the screen is so small it hurts your eyes.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Give me the certificates, I’ll buy something myself.”

Fei Ni looked at the lacquerware and embroidery for a long while but couldn’t decide. Fang Muyang picked up an item she had been staring at and asked the price. As expected, they couldn’t afford it yet, but Fang Muyang told Fei Ni not to worry – they could return when he received his next manuscript payment and exchange it for certificates.

Fei Ni smiled and said, “How naive you are, do you think I want to buy everything I stare at? It’s precisely because I’m not buying that I want to look more carefully.”

She wasn’t lying to Fang Muyang. The things she eventually bought were items she liked at first sight: a pair of leather gloves and a pair of boots, both for Fang Muyang.

Leaving the store, Fei Ni gave the gloves to Fang Muyang, “Put them on quickly, your hands were red from the cold when you rode here earlier.” The leather gloves were warmer than the wool ones. She planned to use the wool she had unraveled for his gloves to knit him a scarf instead.

“Weren’t you going to knit me gloves?”

“Knitting gloves is too troublesome, I’m too lazy. Honestly, if you could exchange enough certificates to buy a cotton coat here, I wouldn’t even want to make you the padded jacket.” Fei Ni looked up at Fang Muyang, “Can you exchange more certificates? As many as possible. I have more money than you imagine, don’t worry about the cost.”

Making a padded jacket would take at least several days, but Fei Ni felt Fang Muyang needed a warm coat now.

Fang Muyang smiled and asked, “How much money do you have? Care to share?”

He looked like a kept man trying to find out his wealthy patroness’s assets.

Fei Ni shook her head: “That’s confidential.”

Fei Ni jumped on the bicycle, pressing her face against Fang Muyang’s back. “Wearing so little, aren’t you really cold?”

“Cold. Can you hold tighter? Warm me up a bit.”

Fei Ni scoffed but held him tighter.

Fang Muyang cycled to the grocery store and bought three cans of luncheon meat to mail to his parents.

The three cans wrapped up weren’t big, hardly seeming worth the trouble of mailing.

Fei Ni asked, “Do you want to buy some pastries too? I still have food coupons.”

“This is enough. My parents can get salaries now, earning more than us. Being able to buy them canned food is already an unexpected joy. Too big a surprise might be too much for them.” Last time, his father had written to tell him they could now receive salaries instead of just the ten-yuan monthly living allowance. Though the salary was far less than ten years ago, it was still more than what he and Fei Ni earned.

Fang Muyang didn’t tell Fei Ni that his parents’ greatest hope for him since childhood was simply that he wouldn’t cause trouble and disgrace the family. They wanted nothing else. In his third year in the countryside, when he finally could contact his parents, he mailed them the dried tofu and salted duck eggs he’d planned to enjoy himself, along with millet and red dates borrowed from neighbors. His father immediately wrote back, very tactfully advising him not to steal from the neighbors. Accompanying the letter was a money order, presumably to repay what he’d “stolen.”

Because his father’s letters had to pass censorship, every word was carefully chosen. Most people reading that letter would only see encouragement to improve himself, but Fang Muyang, educated by his father for years, immediately understood the deeper meaning. That his old man still had the presence of mind to craft careful phrases about being a good person showed life hadn’t defeated him; that he had the mental energy to suspect the millet and dates were stolen showed he wasn’t starving – extreme hunger leaves no room for such concerns. So Fang Muyang contentedly used the money to repay for the millet and dates, then went to the commune restaurant for a meal. Afterward, he wrote his father saying the items were gifts from neighbors thanking him for New Year paintings, expressed gratitude for the money his father had scraped together for his better living, and mentioned that the restaurant’s noodles with meat sauce and fried meatballs were excellent – he’d eaten two plates of meatballs himself. His father, probably thinking his wayward son was living better than himself, never sent money again.

“You never say anything serious.” Fei Ni took money and food coupons from her coat pocket and bought some bread. “Mail more this time, save yourself another trip.”

“How come you’re more filial than me, their son?” Fang Muyang said with a smile. “I won’t save any trips. If you mail them so much, they’ll feel obligated to mail things back. Then I’ll have to come collect packages.”

Fei Ni ignored him.

Leaving the post office, it was mealtime. Fei Ni followed Fang Muyang into a snack shop. This shop sold sesame tangyuan in winter and was very crowded with almost all seats taken. Fang Muyang finally found a seat, letting Fei Ni sit while he went to buy Tangyuan. He brought a large bowl and placed it before her, telling her to eat while it was hot.

“What about you?”

“I’ll have these twisted noodles,” he said, taking a bite while standing.

Fei Ni ate the tangyuan one by one despite their heat, had some soup, and then told Fang Muyang, “You eat now, I’m full.” The person next to Fei Ni left, freeing another seat. Fei Ni moved over, letting Fang Muyang take her original seat.

Fang Muyang got another spoon, and they shared the bowl of tangyuan.

“If you don’t eat, people waiting for seats will ask you to leave.”

Only now did Fei Ni taste the tangyuan; earlier she had only registered their sweetness and heat.

They both worked up a sweat in the snack shop.

“Let’s go ice skating.”

Fei Ni said, “I don’t know how, and we don’t even have skates.”

“We can rent them. I hope you don’t know how – if you knew everything, wouldn’t that make me seem completely useless? Give me a chance to show off.”

Before being sent to the countryside, Fang Muyang often came here to skate. The rink seemed to attract more young troublemakers than other places, with many boys considering it the perfect spot to pursue girls, constantly trying to attract attention, afraid of being overshadowed. Fang Muyang knew many difficult moves, but he was too young then – the girls who came were all older than him. Other boys just saw him as a skilled kid, not a rival, letting him show off his techniques.

Fang Muyang discovered Fei Ni wasn’t being modest – she really couldn’t skate.

He set aside thoughts of showing off, focusing on teaching her. Perhaps due to nervousness, Fei Ni made little progress, so Fang Muyang held her hands and skated together to help her relax.

To outsiders unaware of the situation, Fang Muyang looked like a beginner himself, skating while supporting a girl – appearing unbearably effeminate.

A young man skillfully skated a circle around Fei Ni, then approached her saying, “Let me teach you, I guarantee you’ll learn quickly.”