The two families exchanged compliments. Fang’s parents praised their daughter-in-law, thanking the in-laws for raising such a fine child; the Fei parents likewise praised their son-in-law.
When Mother Fei praised her family members, she preferred to do it through others’ words. Rather than directly praising her son-in-law, she mentioned how others envied her for having such a good son-in-law. To support his wife’s claims, Old Fei gave several examples, such as how during the earthquake, Fang Muyang had helped build earthquake shelters not just for their family but for others too.
Old Fang hadn’t heard this from his son before, and hearing it from his in-laws made him feel his son was indeed quite like himself – modest yet helpful to others, proving the power of genetics. At this moment, Old Fang claimed his son’s virtues as his private property, humbly responding on his behalf that it was nothing special, just what he should have done. This was simply their family’s way.
Old Fei went on to praise Fang Muyang’s paintings, pointing out the “Five Bats at the Door” hanging in their living room, which everyone who saw it admired. Opposite it hung “Persimmons of Good Fortune,” also painted by Fang Muyang. Old Fei gazed at the five bats and cluster of persimmons, sighing deeply. To Old Fang’s critical eye, these two paintings were naturally beneath his standards – his wayward son had embarrassed him at his father-in-law’s home. He internally cursed his son’s mediocrity.
Years ago, when his son had “defaced” their home’s walls, he’d had no choice but to call in favors to find him a teacher from the National Painting Academy, hoping to improve his home practice. The boy hadn’t studied long before switching to oil painting; if he’d studied longer, he wouldn’t be producing work like this.
He’d spent money and called in favors for his son’s art education, and come New Year’s, despite not minding his son’s poor technique, when he asked him to paint greeting cards, the boy wouldn’t budge without the promise of roller skates and a Western dinner. Unwilling to indulge in this behavior and wanting to show his son the world didn’t revolve around his wishes, he’d bought only the skates and taken him to a Chinese restaurant instead of Western dining.
Later, feeling this lesson wasn’t forceful enough and wanting his son to learn contentment, he’d sent him to boarding school, forbidding him from coming home for meals. After this education, the wayward son improved for a while, no longer making demands and even offering to paint greeting cards. Old Fang, believing his teaching had worked, asked what reward his son wanted. His son said no reward was necessary, helping his father was just right. Deeply pleased, Old Fang had rewarded him with a Western restaurant meal and a good violin.
All these years later, compared to that preserved greeting card, there wasn’t much improvement – he hadn’t learned the essence of freehand style but had learned to be clever in small ways. It was bad enough that his Chinese painting skills were poor, but he didn’t even have the sense to hide it, brazenly hanging his inferior work in someone’s bedroom-cum-living room.
If he still had his old collection, he would have given his in-laws two pieces and removed his son’s paintings – letting them embarrass the family at home would have been enough.
But now his collection was lost, so he could only cover for his son: “He studied oil painting from childhood, his Chinese painting isn’t very good.”
Mother Fei said, “I don’t understand Western or Chinese painting, but these paintings make me happy.”
Old Fang was satisfied with his in-laws’ family, but he also noticed their modest means. His father-in-law was semi-retired at home on a meager pension and had managed to save a dowry for his daughter, only to have it wheedled away by his wayward son – not just spent on himself but on them too, which was preposterous. Even in his most extravagant youth, he’d only spent his own family’s money. Later, when he’d reached into his own family’s pockets for righteous causes, he’d only taken from his grandfather and great-grandfather, never targeting his in-laws despite their wealth. He couldn’t imagine where his son had learned such behavior. Yet while finding it absurd, he also appreciated the filial piety – after all, the money was spent on things for them.
The more modest their circumstances appeared, the more uncomfortable Old Fang felt. This discomfort made him increasingly polite, and knowing they had prepared specially, he kept praising everything, even saying their watermelon was better than what he’d bought.
After exchanging compliments, as mealtime approached, Old Fang suggested everyone go to a restaurant.
Two taxis had been arranged by Fang Muyang – one for the parents, another for the siblings. As for him and Fei Ni, rather than squeeze in, they would bike to the restaurant.
Before anyone could decline politely, Fei Ni had already hopped onto the back of Fang Muyang’s bicycle. She remembered riding in a car from Fang Muyang’s grandmother’s house as a child, thinking the car then seemed longer than today’s.
Fang Muyang wasn’t riding slowly but still fell behind the cars.
“The other day when my father found out I was riding your bike, he offered to buy me one. I told him to just give me the money instead. If I got a new bike, who would be your chauffeur?”
“Driver, please pedal faster.”
“As you wish.”
Fei Ni laughed and discussed the house exchange with Fang Muyang: “Our family all oppose the exchange. What should we do?”
Their opposition wasn’t really about the exchange, but about them renting.
“You want to exchange?”
“Don’t you want to move out too?”
“I do want to exchange, but you’re in such a hurry – where would we live?” He’d already planned to rent but hadn’t expected Fei Ni to act so decisively, bringing it up the very next day after he’d mentioned it.
Fei Ni laughed: “Stop pretending. Knowing you, I’m sure you’ve already looked at several places, probably even found one.”
He had indeed looked at several houses and decided on one, though they couldn’t move in immediately.
The place he’d found had three small rooms. While not completely private, it had a moon gate that somewhat separated it from the outside. The landlord allowed him to wall off the moon gate and open a small door on the east side and was willing to sign a long-term lease. The landlords were an elderly couple who had recently regained ownership of the courtyard, but the current residents inside the moon gate needed another month before moving to new housing arranged by the Housing Bureau. Even after they moved out, he couldn’t move in immediately, as the house did have some of the flaws Lin Mei mentioned and needed proper renovation.
With Fei Ni rushing to exchange houses, their immediate accommodation was a problem.
Fang Muyang smiled: “How do you know me so well? I’ve found a place, but it’s not quite what you asked for – it has one extra room and costs two yuan more. But if your parents and siblings saw it, they’d be happy to let us move.”
Fang Muyang briefly explained the situation and quoted a rent figure.
“So cheap? You’re deceiving me again.”
“The landlord just wants reliable tenants – they’d rather charge less for trustworthy people.”
“You’re trustworthy?”
“Isn’t that why you married me? As for whether I’m lying, you’ll see when you read the lease. There’s just one thing – the house won’t be available for over a month. If you’re not willing to wait, I can look again, but finding something this suitable won’t be easy, and even if we do, we might not be able to move in right away.”
“But the people wanting to exchange seem in a hurry – they won’t give us that much time.”
“If necessary, we can stay at my mother’s place temporarily. Once the house is ready, we’ll move out.”
“Is it appropriate to move around like that?”
“My mother will understand, and as for my father – he’s unemployed now and eager to assert his presence by educating me. Once he gets a job and everyone’s coming to him for advice, he’ll find me annoying and want me to move out. I’m doing him a favor, and he’ll be grateful.”
Mother Fei only truly realized the gap between the two families after seeing the in-laws’ new home. Though renting cars was expensive, even someone like her who rushed to catch market bargains could manage it if determined to put on a show. But housing was different.
Their living room was as big as her entire house, and the kitchen was large enough to section off a dining area.
Mother Fei was amazed internally but showed no signs of being overwhelmed, appropriately praising the good orientation and floor level. She was relieved that the in-laws showed no pride in their better housing.
Though Old Fang prided himself on his literary talent, after years of being criticized as useless, he felt that a useless scholar like himself didn’t deserve such a large house. He said the house was allocated to his wife, and he just benefited by association. A dozen years ago, Old Fang wouldn’t have considered their current house particularly large, just adequate, but after years of reform at the Agricultural Machinery Factory, he’d learned to be content.