HomeLove Story in the 1970sThe Pragmatist’s Love - Chapter 72

The Pragmatist’s Love – Chapter 72

On the day before their departure, Fang Muyang’s parents specially hosted a dinner at a restaurant to thank their colleagues at the Agricultural Machinery Factory for years of care. The items they weren’t taking but could still be used had already been assigned new owners, waiting to be collected on a moving day. The luggage they were taking was limited, half of which belonged to Fang Muyang, with the most important items being a few books and a stack of manuscripts.

Though the manuscripts weren’t thick, the character count was astounding—a single sheet of letter-sized paper could hold five to six thousand characters on both sides, with text sometimes requiring a magnifying glass to read clearly. Some of the paper was scrap paper. Fang Muyang couldn’t imagine how his severely nearsighted father had fearfully yet compulsively written these things in secret at night.

Fang Muyang pulled out a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes and tossed it to his father, telling him to smoke while they talked.

Old Fang looked at the cigarette pack in surprise. “Where did you get these?”

“I had some money left from what Fei Ni gave me, so I bought you cigarettes. You must have been craving them these past years when you couldn’t get any.”

“Is that any way to speak to your elders? You have no manners at all.” Old Fang, maintaining his fatherly dignity, said sternly, “I’ve quit smoking these past few years. Ask your mother if you don’t believe me.”

Old Fang wasn’t lying. In recent years, he rarely bought packaged cigarettes, instead rolling tobacco leaves in paper like the local villagers.

Fang Muyang took out a cigarette, lit it with a match, and held it out to Old Fang, who skillfully took it between his fingers, inhaled deeply, and slowly exhaled the smoke. While smoking, he lectured his son: “I understand your filial piety toward your mother and me, but using Xiao Fei’s dowry money to buy us clothes and cigarettes—what will Xiao Fei and her parents think of our family? When my back wages are paid, you’ll return the money to Xiao Fei.”

The first time the Fang elders became in-laws was over a decade ago, and this second time was quite different from the first. When their eldest son married, Old Fang still held an important position, and anyone marrying into their family wouldn’t feel it was beneath them, especially since their eldest was both talented and good-looking. When their younger son married, although their family’s most difficult period had passed, the situation was still far from optimistic. The rebellious son came from a poor background and had no job—at such a time, having a formal worker marry him, and bringing her own house, was incredibly fortunate. Upon receiving news of Fang Muyang’s marriage, Old Fang excitedly bought a bottle of poor-quality bulk liquor from the store and drank half a jin using the letter as a snack, feeling a sense of relief at having shed a burden.

But Old Fang was ultimately a conscientious person, and amidst his joy, he felt some guilt. In a marriage, if one side feels they’ve gotten a great deal, the other side must have lost out.

He asked again, “Is Xiao Fei enjoying the tea I mailed you last time?”

This place might not have much else, but it was known for tea production, and tea leaves could be bought without ration coupons.

“Yes, we finished it all.” They hadn’t drunk much of the Da Hong Pao—most of it had been used to make tea eggs. Last time when Fei Ni’s elder brother bought many eggs from suburban villagers and gave them a small basket, Fang Muyang had used the Da Hong Pao to make a pot of tea eggs, keeping half and sending the other half to Fei Ni’s parents’ home. As for the two kinds of black tea they’d been sent, Fei Ni drank them almost daily, and they were now finished.

“Then I’ll buy more to take back this time, let the in-laws have a taste too.”

Fang Muyang had managed to get two sleeper tickets for his parents, while he bought a regular hard seat ticket for himself. Old Fang took out the money and told his son to upgrade to a sleeper ticket. Fang Muyang took the money but didn’t upgrade the ticket, saying he appreciated the gesture but preferred sitting.

Old Fang felt somewhat comforted—after marriage, his rebellious son had learned to be frugal.

As soon as Fei Ni entered the house, she saw Fang Muyang cooking noodles in the room. “When did you get back?”

“This afternoon.”

“Why didn’t you tell me in advance? I could have gone to pick you up.”

“Weren’t you working today? My parents told me not to disturb your work.”

“Where are your parents staying this time?”

“The housing hasn’t been settled yet, they’re staying at my mother’s work unit’s guest house.”

“Why are you cooking by yourself? Shouldn’t you be having dinner with them?”

“Don’t worry, our parents are eating better than we are.” As soon as they got off the train, someone was holding a sign waiting for them, claiming to be some leader’s driver. Fang Muyang followed his parents into an eighty-percent-new Volga sedan, and at five in the afternoon, the driver came to pick up the whole family for dinner, at the very restaurant where Fang Muyang worked.

He had taken personal leave, and during this time, it wasn’t convenient to eat at his workplace. So he took the bus back by himself.

Fei Ni took out a stack of shopping coupons from her bag and handed them to Fang Muyang. “These are from my brother and sister. Your parents are back, and they’ll surely need to get many things. Nothing can be bought without coupons, so give these to them. They’ll need them later.”

Fang Muyang pinched Fei Ni’s cheek. “You’ll be meeting them tomorrow anyway, why don’t you give these to them yourself? Otherwise, they might think I’m constantly oppressing and persecuting you, not just you but your whole family.”

“Stop joking around, how could parents think of their child that way?”

Fang Muyang laughed, “That’s because you haven’t met our old man. Tomorrow you must tell them you haven’t been living in dire straits.”

With tomorrow’s meeting with her in-laws approaching, Fei Ni felt somewhat nervous. She didn’t know much about her in-laws, and her kindness toward them was simply because they were Fang Muyang’s parents. The visit to the Ye family had left her with a bad impression, as Madam Ye’s harshness had been completely unexpected. Although she felt that Fang Muyang’s parents couldn’t be that bad, she still prepared herself for the worst. The worst case would just mean reducing contact—after all, she and Fang Muyang lived independently.

“Which do you think would be more appropriate for me to wear when meeting them?” Fei Ni couldn’t decide between two outfits and asked Fang Muyang to help her choose.

“Neither is appropriate.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not just these two outfits that aren’t appropriate, changing into other clothes wouldn’t be appropriate either. The problem isn’t with the clothes.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re too beautiful. As soon as they see you, they’ll think I’m not worthy of you.”

Fei Ni couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re never serious. How could parents think their child isn’t good enough for someone?” Besides, his conditions weren’t bad, and his parents always saw their children through rose-tinted glasses.

Fei Ni’s first meeting with her in-laws was at the guest house.

If her in-laws were walking down the street, Fei Ni would have given them a second look. Fang Muyang’s appearance was a combination of both his parents’ features. However, their temperaments were completely different. Fang Muyang’s parents, especially his mother, exuded an air of “seriousness”—not the kind of seriousness about haggling over three or five cents at the market; they didn’t seem like people who cared about money.

The Fang elders’ first thought upon seeing Fei Ni was that she looked more like their family than Fang Muyang did. Fang Muyang had always been the odd one out in the family.

Fei Ni followed Fang Muyang in calling them Mom and Dad.

Teacher Mu handed Fei Ni a red envelope as a meeting gift. She had made the envelope herself with red paper, and to make it more formal, she had her husband write a few characters on it. Old Fang had spent half the night thinking about what to write on the cover, finally penning the most common four characters: “Bai Nian Hao He” (Hundred Years of Harmony). After the characters were written, Teacher Mu put the prepared hundred yuan into the envelope. Their back wages hadn’t been paid yet, and their salaries hadn’t been restored to their original level. They had thought about giving more once the back wages were paid, but they couldn’t come empty-handed to their first meeting, so they had to make do with a hundred yuan. After taking out this hundred yuan, they didn’t have much savings left.

Fei Ni knew they hadn’t had their wages restored and didn’t have much money, and was hesitating whether to accept it when Old Fang said not to think it too little.

Fei Ni had no choice but to accept it with thanks.

For this visit, Fei Ni had specially brought two comic books that Fang Muyang had previously published to show his parents.

Fang Muyang hadn’t expected Fei Ni to promote his work to his parents.

Old Fang took the comic books and carefully looked through the first few pages, confirming they were indeed his son’s work. The rebellious son had never mentioned this. He flipped through a few pages before closing the book and letting his wife take a look.

He had thought his son had abandoned drawing, and sometimes felt guilty about it, feeling he had held him back. Because apart from drawing, the only other thing his rebellious son could persist in was playing—even playing the violin was just playing, it couldn’t be a profession…

Old Fang began praising his son in front of Fei Ni.

Fang Muyang discovered that his old man indeed had a talent for public speaking—the previous reasons for beating him had now all become merits.

When he was two years old and scribbled on the house’s white walls, making everything pitch black, it now became an early display of extraordinary artistic talent; using house plates as paint palettes became making use of all available conditions for art… In short, he had truly been a lovable child who brought joy to his parents since he was young.

Fang Muyang looked at his father with a smile, as if to say, “Don’t you feel guilty speaking like this?”

It wasn’t easy for Old Fang either—how could he speak ill of his rebellious son in front of his daughter-in-law? Giving such a good-for-nothing son to someone as a husband, what would they think of him as a father?

Fei Ni listened to Old Fang’s false promotion while maintaining a smile.

She used the money from the red envelope and the industrial coupons to buy some new things for Fang’s parents, including daily necessities like towels, soap, toothpaste, and shampoo.

These items were delivered to his parents through Fang Muyang.

The elderly couple received the items, both marveling at their daughter-in-law’s thoughtfulness while feeling somewhat uncomfortable about it.

Old Fang hadn’t been particularly anxious about the back wages before since they had money to use, but after repeatedly receiving gifts from their daughter-in-law, he couldn’t help but make calls to hurry things along. It was one thing for their rebellious son to live off his wife, but they couldn’t keep doing the same.

Before long, the Fang family’s housing situation was resolved, with the same layout as before, except this time they were on the third floor. The previously confiscated items that could be found in storage were all returned. Old Fang didn’t care much about the lost furniture; the only things he truly regretted losing were his collection of calligraphy, paintings, and ancient books. Many were lost, but thinking of his past years, Old Fang consoled himself that it was good enough to have retained some. Hadn’t they gotten by without calligraphy and paintings these years?

Along with the house came the back wages and their old savings passbook. Since their family had never been able to keep much money, the amount in the passbook wasn’t even a fraction of the back wages.

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