Old Fang remained silent, his silence indicating that his love for money wasn’t diminished by its vulgarity. He called his son into the study and took out a thick envelope containing one hundred ten yuan bills.
“This is to compensate for your meal expenses.”
Fang Muyang accepted the envelope, immediately sensing the amount through touch, and said to his father with a smile, “You don’t need to rush to give me the remaining money. I’m not in a hurry.”
But Old Fang had no intention of giving more cash. He did have money set aside for his wayward son, but it would be distributed through daily expenses.
Just as Old Fang was about to explain himself, Fang Muyang asked, “How’s the organization of your manuscripts coming along?”
Old Fang sighed. The doctor had advised him not to strain his eyes, but he wasn’t comfortable letting others organize his manuscripts. After a month, little progress had been made.
“Why don’t I help you organize them? Didn’t the doctor advise you against straining your eyes?”
Old Fang hadn’t expected such filial thoughtfulness from his wayward son, but considering his capabilities, he had to decline tactfully: “You’re so busy with work, and you still need to paint when you get home. I’d better do it myself.”
“No matter how busy I am, I can’t neglect my filial duties. If you don’t trust me, you can let me try with the manuscripts you’ve already transcribed. If you’re satisfied, I can continue helping you; if not, we can forget about it.”
Old Fang called his wayward son into the study, took out a page of manuscript, and pointing to one of the traditional characters on the page, asked, “Do you know what character this is?” Old Fang held no expectations for his son, who was the family’s outlier—not only had he never received a proper university education, he hadn’t even finished middle school. Even during his years in school, he hadn’t studied properly, and his cultural literacy probably extended only to recognizing common characters.
“You underestimate me.”
Old Fang defended himself: “I meant the characters are too small, worried you might not see them.”
“You don’t need to worry about that, my eyesight is excellent.”
After much instruction, Old Fang finally gave his son one page of the manuscript, telling him to prioritize his work and return it if he didn’t want to continue with the transcription. He had already transcribed that page in larger characters previously.
Hearing the door, Fei Ni immediately composed herself. She didn’t want Fang Muyang to think she was the least bit unhappy about him working on the pictorial. He finally had a job that matched his talents—how could she not be happy for him? If Fang Muyang had listened to his parents and given up the pictorial job, she would have felt guilty, knowing that this sacrifice was entirely for her sake, as Fang Muyang had no other reason to refuse. Although Fang Muyang didn’t view the occupation as a matter of face like others did, after working as a waiter for so long, he had no reason to refuse an opportunity to try something different.
Fang Muyang didn’t mention work. He handed the envelope to Fei Ni.
Fei Ni opened the envelope and saw the money.
“Where did this money come from?”
“Didn’t I tell you my father insisted on compensating me for meal expenses from before I came of age?”
Fei Ni handed the envelope back to Fang Muyang, “We both have jobs, let’s try not to use money from our elders if we can avoid it.”
Fang Muyang smiled, “That’s what I said too, but he insisted on giving it, and I couldn’t refuse. Refusing would have made things awkward. I was thinking, since the old man has been transcribing manuscripts recently and his eyes aren’t good, I could use this money to find someone to help him transcribe. What do you think?”
Fei Ni remembered that Ling Yi had also offered to help organize these manuscripts, “Who do you plan to find?”
Fang Muyang opened Fei Ni’s palm and placed the envelope in her hand, “I don’t know if you have time to help me. If you take this money, I can benefit from your assistance too.”
Fei Ni accepted the manuscript page Fang Muyang handed over, looking at the small characters, “I can help, but will your father trust me?”
“We’re family, what’s there not to trust? If you’re unsure about something, just leave it blank. He’s very cautious now and doesn’t want to let his written work pass through outsiders’ hands. Unfortunately, my abilities are limited, so I have to trouble you. When you’re not busy these next few days, you can start by transcribing this page for him.”
Fei Ni flicked Fang Muyang’s ear, “You’re being quite formal.”
“Then keep the money, and you can handle the rent from now on.”
“What if Father isn’t satisfied?”
“He’ll be satisfied.”
Fei Ni didn’t consider the money as her own, but she didn’t trust Fang Muyang with money, suspecting that once in his hands, it would quickly turn into something else. She put the envelope in a drawer and locked it.
Naturally, Fei Ni hadn’t forgotten about the pictorial matter: “When do you start work on the pictorial?”
“I still prefer my current job. I guess the pictorial’s cafeteria won’t be as good.”
“You don’t want to go just because of that?” Fei Ni didn’t believe Fang Muyang’s excuse.
“Isn’t this important enough? Don’t you think eating is important? You’d be worried if I lost weight because the food wasn’t good at the pictorial, wouldn’t you?” Fang Muyang pinched Fei Ni’s cheek, “I’d be worried too, afraid I might hurt you.”
“Whatever you want to eat, I’ll buy it for you. This matter—you haven’t given the Ling family a definitive answer, have you? If they persuade you again to go to the pictorial, you should go.”
“I just refused them very thoroughly, they definitely won’t persuade me again.”
Fei Ni swatted his hand away, “How could you do that? Why didn’t you discuss it with me before refusing? Didn’t I tell you I support you working on the pictorial? Why don’t you understand? I really mean it, I’m not just being polite.” She knew that Fang Muyang’s refusal to work on the pictorial was ultimately because of her, otherwise, he wouldn’t have refused so quickly. It was bad enough that her career wasn’t progressing, but she couldn’t let Fang Muyang lose better career opportunities because of her. What kind of person would that make her?
Her likes and dislikes were truly insignificant compared to career prospects.
Fei Ni’s voice carried a hint of tears from speaking so urgently.
“I understand. How could I not understand?” Fang Muyang suddenly lost the smile on his face, “Because it was introduced by the Ling family, you’re even more insistent that I go, even if one percent of my refusal was because of you, you would think you’re hindering my future, so you must support me going to work at the pictorial. My future has nothing to do with whether I go to the pictorial or not.”
Fei Ni’s thoughts were exposed, and she turned to look at the night sky outside the window.
“I don’t think working at the pictorial is much better than being a waiter, and after accepting their favor, I wouldn’t be able to leave directly if I wanted to quit.” Fang Muyang embraced Fei Ni from behind, “Trust me, I’m not sacrificing anything for you, I simply think this job isn’t as good as my current one.”
He turned Fei Ni’s face towards him and kissed her reddened eyes. Fei Ni closed her eyes, and tears fell onto Fang Muyang’s lips.
Fei Ni didn’t quite believe Fang Muyang’s words, but it was precisely because she didn’t believe them that she felt moved.
Fang Muyang kissed Fei Ni, and she responded passionately. They pushed and squeezed their way toward the bed, falling onto it, and wrinkling the sheets. Fang Muyang’s fingers skillfully began unbuttoning Fei Ni’s shirt, but Fei Ni awoke from her daze and firmly protected her blouse, “Not today, I need to transcribe your father’s manuscript.”
Fang Muyang kissed the mole on her collarbone, “There’s no rush.” The mole on her collarbone grew redder, and with summer not yet over, sweat beaded on Fei Ni’s nose as she breathed rapidly. Based on experience, at this point, Fei Ni wouldn’t refuse anything Fang Muyang did.
But Fei Ni firmly refused this time, “I must finish it today.” She guessed that if it weren’t for considering her feelings, Old Fang might have let Ling Yi help organize his manuscripts. Now that someone else was organizing the manuscripts, she had to help. Moreover, she needed to prove that besides taking over her parents’ work at the hat factory, she had other abilities—she was worthy of Fang Muyang.
Fang Muyang watched Fei Ni fixing her hair that he had messed up, and could only smile bitterly, realizing that even the old man’s manuscripts held more attraction for Fei Ni than he did.
Fei Ni spent two days helping Old Fang transcribe one page of the manuscript. To make it easier for Old Fang to read, she wrote in large, square regular script. For English transliterations, she converted them all into words. She left two uncertain places blank, not knowing which language they were in. She gave the organized page to Fang Muyang, who passed it to Old Fang.
He asked Old Fang, “Are you satisfied with my organization?”
Old Fang looked at it back and forth, nodding occasionally, but his expression quickly turned serious, “Who helped you?”
“Why would you think that?”
“This isn’t your handwriting.”
“Have you seen my handwriting before? How can you be so sure this isn’t mine?”
“Your heart is too restless, you couldn’t write characters like these.” He had made his wayward son practice calligraphy before, but he couldn’t sit still.
Old Fang thought to himself that his wayward son’s abilities couldn’t possibly produce such accurate transcription. Although he spoke English fluently, it was mostly daily conversation, primarily centered around restaurant scenarios. He barely recognized slightly uncommon words, let alone write them. He had deliberately included some wrong characters in certain allusions, which had been corrected by whoever transcribed it. He might not know about others, but he knew his son’s abilities well. If it were about art history, he might know something.
Fang Muyang said, “Fei Ni helped a bit.”
“There must be others.”
“In two days, who could I find?”
“Did your daughter-in-law organize this manuscript?” Old Fang carefully examined the transcribed characters, elegant but not affected, indeed quite like his daughter-in-law’s personality.
Fang Muyang smiled, “I did some work too.”
“What work did you do?”
“I gave her your manuscript. Are you satisfied with my work?”
Old Fang sighed and smiled, “I didn’t expect you, young man, to be so fortunate.” His wife was not only devoted to him but also quite talented.
“So if Fei Ni doesn’t organize your manuscripts, I’m not fortunate? It seems our good fortune lies in organizing your manuscripts.” Fang Muyang didn’t think organizing manuscripts for his father was any kind of fortune; these past two days, Fei Ni’s eyes had been only on the manuscripts, not on him at all.
“Don’t twist my words.”