Fei Ni had long known that money wouldn’t stay in Fang Muyang’s hands for long. The moment he sold the sofa before the money could even warm up, he had to buy something else. On her way home, she was still guessing what he might have bought, and as soon as she entered, she saw the record player on the low cabinet.
There was more music available to play now, with previously banned songs being released every few days. Because of this, Fei Ni had also entertained thoughts of buying a record player, but only thoughts. A record player was somewhat of a luxury for them, especially now that Fang Muyang was unemployed at home.
Besides the record player, Fang Muyang had bought a bag of apples. Knowing Fei Ni didn’t like mealy apples, he had specifically bought Guoguang apples. The lid of the cookie tin was pushed up by newly bought pastries; this morning the tin had only had crumbs left, and Fei Ni had planned to buy more cookies tomorrow, but Fang Muyang had beaten her to it. These pastries were much more expensive than cookies.
Fei Ni looked at the items on the table and smiled at Fang Muyang: “Got rich again?” She extended her palm, “Since you’re so wealthy, how about paying me for making your clothes, and isn’t this month’s rent due?” If they hadn’t become so close, Fei Ni would never have joked about rent.
Fang Muyang took her hand and kissed the back of it, then playfully bit it. “Will this count as payment? If it’s not enough, I have more.”
“You’re so shameless, who wants that?” Fei Ni struggled to pull her hand back, “Don’t do that, I haven’t washed my hands yet, aren’t you disgusted?”
“I’m not.”
Fei Ni looked at the teeth marks on her hand and laughed, “You might not be, but I am. As punishment, go brush your teeth right now, or you can’t eat the food I brought back.”
“Then let’s brush together.”
Fang Muyang held Fei Ni’s hand, tickling her palm, and leaned in to kiss her mouth. Fei Ni instinctively leaned back, biting her teeth and trying hard not to laugh. Fang Muyang supported her waist, their faces getting closer and closer. Fei Ni closed her eyes, but the familiar lips didn’t meet hers. Instead, she felt something being placed in her palm.
Opening her eyes, she saw a thin stack of bills.
That was Fang Muyang’s payment to her.
She could count the amount at a glance – the factory’s finance department was wasting her talents.
“You’re always teasing me.” He seemed unable to get through a day without teasing her. Fei Ni pocketed the money and went with him to the water room.
Fang Muyang obediently brushed his teeth in the water room while Fei Ni washed her hands and returned to their room. Looking carefully, his teeth marks were still visible on the back of her hand. She opened the lunch box and poured the porridge from the thermos into bowls, waiting for Fang Muyang to return for dinner.
After a while, Fang Muyang came back from the water room.
He told Fei Ni, “Teeth are brushed.”
“Hurry up and eat.”
“Don’t you want to inspect?” As he spoke, Fang Muyang moved closer for Fei Ni to check. She tried to dodge but was held firmly. She had no choice but to perform a cursory inspection, resulting in her lips also tasting of lemon toothpaste.
“Well? Satisfied?”
Fei Ni covered her mouth with her hand, embarrassed: “Just eat properly.”
Today the factory cafeteria had potato beef stew, and Fei Ni had rushed there right after work. By the time she got there, the beef was almost gone.
Beef supply was far less than pork. When the food store rarely had beef, it was always a rush supply – by the time you heard the news and queued up, the line was already long, and when it was finally your turn, the beef was sold out. Whenever the cafeteria had potato beef stew, people would crowd the window before sales even began.
The cafeteria cook had initially scooped a large piece of beef for Fei Ni, but perhaps thinking it was too big, with a practiced flick of the wrist, the beef disappeared from the ladle, leaving only potatoes flavored with beef. Fei Ni had insisted the cooked fish out the beef that had fallen back into the pot, which the cook did reluctantly.
The potatoes in the lunch box gradually disappeared, but no one touched the beef. Finally, the beef sat lonely in the bowl until Fang Muyang gently picked it up, and split it in half, putting one half in Fei Ni’s bowl and eating the other himself.
“When will your second comic book be published?”
“Soon, probably. I have the drawings here, you can look at them anytime, no need to wait for publication.” Fang Muyang had finished his second comic book, though the manuscript fee hadn’t been fully paid. He was currently illustrating a book in the ancient technology series, unsigned but paid.
Fei Ni hadn’t told Fang Muyang about the meat factory job. She had no intention of letting him work there, even though it meant eating meat every day. Fang Muyang’s parents had been released from supervision and were earning wages, which showed Fei Ni new possibilities. If Fang Muyang could be recommended for university despite his poor family background, now that background was no longer a major obstacle, and with his clean personal history and published works, being recommended for art school wasn’t impossible. All he needed to do now was create more work and wait for the Art Academy to recruit.
After graduating from university, he would naturally be assigned a job.
Fei Ni finished her washing up, especially early today. After returning from the water room, she closed the doors and windows tightly and drew the curtains. Fang Muyang laughed: “No need to be so careful today, it doesn’t matter if others hear this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, don’t worry.” The first record was Beethoven’s “Pastoral Symphony.” Although not all of Beethoven’s works had been unbanned, his “Pastoral” had been performed by foreign orchestras in China a few years ago, and newspapers had reported on it.
Fei Ni lay on the bed, head propped on her arm, listening to the record that had been sealed away for ten years. Though the music was lulling her toward sleep, she kept her eyes open – she still had a scarf to knit and couldn’t fall asleep yet.
Fang Muyang was peeling an apple beside her.
Fei Ni laughed: “We haven’t reached the stage of eating apples with the skin on.”
“Then you eat the apple, I’ll eat the peel.”
Fang Muyang peeled the apple skillfully, creating one continuous strip. He gave the apple to Fei Ni and put the peel on a plate, using a fork to fold it up and eat it in two bites.
“When you do that, it makes me seem like I’m being harsh on you.” Fei Ni sat up and offered her uneaten half of the apple to Fang Muyang, “I can’t eat this much.”
They shared the apple between them.
Once Fei Ni sat up, she didn’t lie down again. While listening to music, her hands stayed busy knitting Fang Muyang’s scarf. The yarn she had originally intended for his scarf had gone into making him a vest. Yesterday she had managed to get half a jin of yarn, allowing her to continue with the scarf.
“Stop knitting, why not just enjoy the music properly?”
“Knitting doesn’t prevent me from listening to music.” If she delayed any longer, winter might pass before she finished it.
“I’m not in a hurry to wear it.”
Fei Ni ignored his words and continued knitting beside him.
Seeing he couldn’t persuade her, Fang Muyang pulled up a chair to sit beside her and draw.
Fei Ni glanced at Fang Muyang’s drawing, but he covered it, not letting her see.
“What’s so secret? Why are you hiding it?”
Fei Ni had already guessed most of it, and while Fang Muyang was drawing, she sneaked a look – as she knitted the scarf, he was sketching her knitting.
“Fang Muyang, I think with your skilled hands, you could probably knit a scarf yourself, maybe even better than I can.”
“I can’t knit, let alone better than you. Not just me, nobody can knit better than you.”
“How do you know if you don’t try?”
“Weren’t you encouraging me to draw more? I’ll stick to drawing.”
She had encouraged him to draw more but hadn’t encouraged him to draw her.
Fei Ni laughed: “Since you’re so obedient to me, now I’m encouraging you to knit a scarf.”
Fei Ni tossed him the knitting and needles, “Try it first.”
The knitting needles unexpectedly stuck into Fang Muyang’s pajamas, right at his waist.
Fei Ni heard Fang Muyang’s muffled grunt of pain.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
Fei Ni saw he didn’t look fine and reached to lift the corner of his pajamas to check where the needles had stuck him.
As soon as she reached out, Fang Muyang pulled her down onto the bed. Caught off guard, Fei Ni fell into his arms. One hand stroked her shoulder while the other caressed her hair.
“Take a break. The clothes you’ve made me are enough for winter, no need to knit a scarf too.”
Fei Ni was pressed against Fang Muyang’s chest. She could hear a heartbeat, unsure if it was his or her own.
Fang Muyang adjusted her position, letting her rest on his arm as he kissed her eyes. As expected, Fei Ni closed them.
He lay on his side, his other hand combing through her hair.
Music flowed into Fei Ni’s ears.
They maintained this position until the music suddenly stopped and the room plunged into darkness.
Power shortages were common, and they were both used to it. Fei Ni got up to find the flashlight, but Fang Muyang held her hand, “Don’t bother.”
They lay there, neither speaking.
The record had stopped spinning, and the sounds in Fei Ni’s ears became more monotonous.
When the light bulb came back on, Fei Ni was already asleep. Fang Muyang slowly withdrew his numb arm from under her head, tucked her in properly, smoothed the corners of the blanket, then returned to sit at the low cabinet and continue drawing.
Fang Muyang had built the desk first, and after finishing it, he started on the bed. Once the bed took basic shape, neighbors from the building would occasionally come by to look.
Most households in the building had only one room; families like Wang Xiaoman’s with two rooms were rare. Limited space was a common problem for everyone. This bed, which combined three functions while taking up minimal floor space, perfectly matched their needs.
So every day while Fang Muyang worked on the bed, people would come to observe.
The day he finished the bed, the neighborhood committee also brought Fang Muyang good news.
They had found him a job. According to Auntie Wang from the neighborhood committee, this job seemed tailor-made for Fang Muyang’s circumstances.
Given that Fang Muyang had a clean history, strong ideological standing, tall stature, and proper appearance, and though he hadn’t completed junior high school, he had studied English there with good results, the neighborhood committee recommended him for a position as a waiter at the Foreign Affairs Guest House.