After finishing his training program, Fang Muyang became officially unemployed, which gave him plenty of time to make furniture. He told Fei Ni that he wanted to make a new bed. Fei Ni disagreed, reasoning that their current room was too small and that a bunk bed was more practical – not only for sleeping but also for storage. But that wasn’t her only reason for refusing.

There was something else she didn’t mention: if they got a new bed, she would have to sleep next to Fang Muyang every night. And when two people lay together, it was difficult to just sleep. Sometimes she would be exhausted before bed, desperately wanting to fall asleep immediately, but after Fang Muyang kissed her for a while, her drowsiness would vanish. However, their circumstances didn’t allow them to make love every night, and not just because of contraception.

The day after they made love, Wang Xiaoman would look at her with a complicated expression. Although Fei Ni maintained a calm exterior, she felt somewhat embarrassed. Wang Xiaoman’s disturbances were time-limited, but Fang Muyang could carry on for half the night. The cumulative time of those few nights nearly matched the noise their neighbors had produced over several months.

It was only after experiencing this that she understood why their neighbors had fixed their schedule to Saturday nights – it was the most considerate timing. Even if they disturbed others at night, those disturbed could catch up on sleep on Sunday. Additionally, her skin was more delicate than most people’s, and Fang Muyang could easily leave marks on it. Although they didn’t hurt and would fade in a day or two, she couldn’t go to the public bathhouse until they disappeared.

In short, there were many reasons against changing the bed. But the easiest to verbalize was that the bunk bed provided storage space.

Fang Muyang seemed to have anticipated her response and immediately proposed a more practical solution. He had been inspired by foreign furniture magazines he’d browsed in stores: keep the upper bunk as a bed, but replace the lower portion with a wardrobe and desk.

Since they occasionally had visitors, they still needed a proper dining table. They had two chairs, and their old camphor wood chest could serve as additional seating with a cushion placed on top.

This arrangement meant they wouldn’t need the low cabinet anymore. The low cabinet against the wall was two pieces combined – they could sell one and move the other to the hallway for storing pots and dishes. While others had set up kitchen cabinets and coal stoves at their doorways, their entrance was empty. Recently, someone had wanted to store coal cakes in front of their door, but Fei Ni had refused, saying she needed the space for her storage. Since she’d said that, she needed to follow through.

When Fang Muyang explained this, Fei Ni thought it was a good idea.

But she said, “Let’s wait until after the New Year to make furniture.” Although they still had wood, making furniture involved many other expenses.

Fang Muyang’s income now came entirely from manuscript fees, which, unlike wages, were unpredictable.

Right now, the most important thing is to save some money for emergencies.

Fang Muyang noticed Fei Ni’s concerns and said, “Don’t worry about money, I have income from my manuscripts.”

“I’m not worried.” Because Fang Muyang was unemployed at home without a fixed occupation, Fei Ni was especially mindful of his self-esteem and treated him even more gently than before.

Since Fang Muyang insisted on making furniture, Fei Ni let him have his way.

Fang Muyang stopped pursuing her at night, focusing on his drawings, and spent his days making furniture downstairs.

A young man making furniture every day during work hours could only mean one thing: he was unemployed.

Everyone in the building was Fei Ni’s colleague, and soon the factory workers knew that Fei Ni’s husband had lost his job. Their glances at Fei Ni carried traces of sympathy.

Such a beautiful girl had found a man without proper work, living in her allocated housing – it seemed unfair no matter how you looked at it.

Fang Muyang was oblivious to these glances, calmly continuing his carpentry work downstairs.

He didn’t start with the bed but made another sofa instead. He planned to sell it at the consignment store for some money.

When Wang Xiaoman returned from work, she saw the nearly completed sofa made by the unemployed Fang Muyang and couldn’t help but examine it closely.

The last time Fang Muyang made a sofa was at night, and he had kept it covered during the day, so few people had seen its true appearance.

This was Wang Xiaoman’s first time seeing a sofa made by Fang Muyang. She had an old sofa set at home that wasn’t as nice as this one.

She asked Fang Muyang, “Little Fang, where did you get the design for this sofa?”

Fang Muyang was named a furniture store.

Wang Xiaoman remembered – when she got married, she had visited that state-owned furniture store. A similar sofa there cost nearly two hundred yuan, the same price as a nine-inch television.

“Is this sofa for your own home?”

Fang Muyang couldn’t say he made it to sell, so he said, “It’s for relatives.”

“How much does it cost to make a sofa like this?” If it was cheap, Wang Xiaoman thought she might want one too. Although most furniture makers now were carpenters from rural areas, she figured that if Fang Muyang couldn’t find work, he would eventually have to earn money by making furniture.

“I haven’t calculated.”

This response reassured Wang Xiaoman. From her experience, if something was expensive, people would mention the price. She decided to wait until the day Fang Muyang had no choice but to earn money through furniture making.

Sister Liu had also heard about Fang Muyang’s unemployment. Although she knew Fei Ni’s husband was an artist who had published comic books and received manuscript fees, not having a proper job was still concerning. Because Fei Ni had knitted her another beautiful pair of gloves, Sister Liu asked her husband, who worked at the meat processing factory, to help find a job for Fei Ni’s husband. With his characteristic efficiency, Sister Liu’s husband quickly secured a vacancy in the slaughterhouse.

Sister Liu shared this news with Fei Ni as something to celebrate, leaving Fei Ni grateful but unsure how to refuse.

In times of meat scarcity, a job at the slaughterhouse was enviable. According to Sister Liu, a girl surnamed Wang from the slaughterhouse had managed to marry a handsome actor from the drama troupe, despite her plain looks. Her success only emphasized how attractive such a position was.

If Fang Muyang didn’t have manuscript fees, Fei Ni would have accepted immediately. But since he had income from his art, she felt his hands were better suited for drawing than slaughtering, leaving that work for others.

However, since Sister Liu had kindly found work for Fang Muyang, Fei Ni couldn’t simply say he preferred other work and would rather stay unemployed than work at the meat factory. After all, in Sister Liu’s mind, being a slaughterhouse worker was an excellent position.

Fei Ni could only say that Fang Muyang had many manuscript commitments and had no time for other work besides drawing.

Sister Liu was always straightforward: “But I heard your Fang is making furniture downstairs every day. Is it just what he told you about having many manuscripts? Men care about face; what they say isn’t always true. Many people want this job but can’t get it. You should think it over carefully.”

Fei Ni had to continue lying: “He makes furniture during the day and barely sleeps because he’s drawing at night.” Although Fang Muyang did draw at night, it wasn’t to the point of sleeplessness.

“Then you must tell Little Fang to take care of his health. Furniture can be made anytime, but health is revolutionary capital.”

Fei Ni smiled and agreed, and at lunch, she specially bought a meat dish to treat Sister Liu in the cafeteria.

Sister Liu smiled and pushed the dish toward Fei Ni: “My husband works at the meat factory, I eat meat every day. You’re so thin, you should eat more.”

Seeing Fei Ni still being polite, Sister Liu added, “Little Fei, earning manuscript fees is good, but I’ll say something you might not want to hear – being able to earn manuscript fees today doesn’t guarantee you can tomorrow. Finding a proper job is the real solution. The meat factory job is excellent, you can eat meat every day. Seeing how thin you are makes my heart ache.”

Fang Muyang didn’t know that kind-hearted Sister Liu had found such a good job for him. As soon as he finished the sofa, he borrowed a handcart and took it to the consignment store to sell.

Earning carpentry fees was nothing compared to selling sofas, even when sold as used furniture.

After selling the sofa, Fang Muyang had money again, though he never kept money for long. He split the earnings in half, planning to give one half to Fei Ni. With the other half, after buying materials for making the bed, he decided on his own to buy a second-hand record player.

It would be a shame to let those records in his trunk go unused.