HomeLove Story in the 1970sThe Pragmatist’s Love - Chapter 91

The Pragmatist’s Love – Chapter 91

Fei Ni knew he was putting on an act, but she let him continue with his pretense.

And so, everyone learned that it was Fang Muyang who had washed Fei Ni’s clothes.

Sister Liu looked Fei Ni up and down, thinking to herself how capable young Fang was—not only could he draw and make furniture, but he also washed clothes and shoes so clean. Fei Ni’s sneakers from last year were still pristinely white. What was even more surprising was that Fei Ni’s father-in-law showed no sign of astonishment, indicating that washing clothes was a regular task for Fang Muyang, something the family had grown accustomed to.

In Sister Liu’s mind, Fang Muyang was approaching perfection, except for his fear of blood. However, compared to his virtues, this flaw was trivial and didn’t affect daily life.

Sister Liu realized she had completely misunderstood the situation. Having achieved the purpose of her visit, she glanced at those who had come with her, suggesting it was time to leave.

Before Fei Ni’s colleagues could say goodbye, new visitors arrived. The newcomer was young and carried a basket of pomegranates, saying Director Zhou had sent them. Aunt Yang offered tea to the guest, but the person said Director Zhou had instructed them to deliver and leave immediately.

After leaving Fei Ni’s home and going downstairs, Feng Lin spotted a familiar figure getting into a black car. She asked, “Wasn’t that the person who just delivered pomegranates to Fei Ni’s house?”

“Seems like it.”

Feng Lin thought to herself that it must be some director’s driver.

Even as she left, Feng Lin couldn’t understand what Fang Muyang saw in Fei Ni. With his family background, abilities, and looks, he could have found someone better than Fei Ni. Even marrying Fei Ni was marrying down, so it made no sense for him to wait on her hand and foot, even washing her clothes. In her view, apart from a passably pretty face, Fei Ni had nothing remarkable about her. She figured Fei Ni must have used all her abilities in choosing a suitable husband for marriage, knowing that some women treated finding a husband as their life’s career, treating their husband’s achievements as their own. This would explain why Fei Ni was so eager to promote her husband’s comic books—not just sharing in the glory, but claiming it as her own. She wanted to remind Fei Ni that only her husband’s name appeared on the comics’ credits, having nothing to do with Fei Ni herself. Whether man or woman, everyone should have their own career; marriage wasn’t meant to be a one-and-done solution.

However, Feng Lin didn’t voice these thoughts—she and Fei Ni weren’t close enough for such candid discussion.

Feng Lin said to Sister Liu, “Sister Liu, weren’t you being a bit excessive earlier? Not being late, not leaving early, working overtime to complete tasks, and actively participating in collective activities should be what every worker does. How did these become rare excellent qualities in your description? It’s as if hardly any workers in our factory could achieve this. You can praise Fei Ni if you want, but there’s no need to belittle other factory workers.” Feng Lin was particularly dissatisfied with how Sister Liu praised Fei Ni for substituting as conductor and winning first place at the factory as if it were some great honor.

“When did I belittle our factory workers? Yes, not being late and not leaving early is what every worker should do, but some just can’t manage it. I remember there was a Worker-Peasant-Soldier University student who came to train in our workshop. She wasn’t late often, but she always found excuses to leave early. What was her name? I can’t quite remember…”

Sister Liu’s memory wasn’t actually that poor—that person was standing right beside her.

Red Xiang, seeking to maintain peace, changed the subject: “What do you think Fei Ni’s father-in-law’s rank is, living in such a big house?”

“Fei Ni said her father-in-law doesn’t work, probably the house was allocated to her mother-in-law.”

Feng Lin inwardly laughed at Sister Liu’s naivety, believing whatever Fei Ni said. How could someone without a job have a driver specially delivering pomegranates?

Red Xiang said, “It’s interesting how Fei Ni lives in such a nice place but keeps quiet about it.”

Sister Liu agreed, “Yes, unlike some people who want the whole factory to know what their parents do.”

The speaker’s intent was clear, and Feng Lin immediately caught the underlying criticism directed at her.

She quickly retorted, “If Fei Ni didn’t want people to know, you’d never find out.” She didn’t consider Fei Ni modest at all—a modest person wouldn’t immediately buy dozens of copies of their husband’s newly published comics to give away, desperate for everyone to know what her husband had accomplished.

After everyone left, Fei Ni went into the bathroom and closed the door, laughing, “They’re gone, you can stop pretending now.”

“How is it pretending? Isn’t it normal for me to wash your clothes? If it makes you happy, I’ll wash them every day.”

Fei Ni laughed, “I wouldn’t dare trouble you so much. If my clothes pass through your hands, they probably won’t last more than a few wears.”

“Then teach me. Once you teach me, I’ll wash them for you every day.” As he spoke, Fang Muyang pressed Fei Ni’s hands into the water, his soap-covered palms enveloping hers, insisting she teach him hands-on.

Fei Ni found this student too slow to learn and left the bathroom for the bedroom before three minutes had passed. She stood before the mirror, combing her hair, trying to brush out the bits of soap foam.

The next day, to thank Sister Liu for the pork head meat, Fei Ni brought her some pastries.

This home visit completely dispelled previous suspicions but gave rise to new rumors.

The rumors said Fei Ni lived in a huge house and played piano at home every day. The house was allocated by her mother-in-law’s work unit, and Fei Ni’s mother-in-law held a high position and was so busy she wasn’t even home on Sundays. The rumors also said that Fei Ni’s husband—the one who had published several comics—feared the housekeeper wouldn’t wash Fei Ni’s clothes clean enough, so he used his furniture-making and drawing hands to wash her clothes himself. So everyone knew Fei Ni had a tall husband who could make furniture, draw, and do laundry, and this husband waited on her hand and foot.

When people saw Fei Ni’s clothes and shoes now, their first thought wasn’t how well they fit or how nice they looked, but how clean they were. Fei Ni’s husband was truly capable, washing her clothes so spotlessly clean.

On Tuesday after work, Fei Ni jumped onto the back of Fang Muyang’s bicycle, wearing the white sneakers that were supposedly cleaned by him.

Since moving in with her in-laws, Fei Ni had been taking the bus to and from work. This was the first time in many days that Fang Muyang had picked her up by bicycle.

Looking at the shops and houses along the way, Fei Ni asked puzzled, “This isn’t our way home, is it? Where are you going?”

“You really forgot?”

“How could I forget? This clearly isn’t…” But she vaguely remembered traveling this road once before, and then it came to her—this was the same road they’d taken when looking at rental properties.

“Remember now? Our future home is nearby.” Fang Muyang thought to himself how powerful the manuscript’s appeal must be for Fei Ni to have forgotten about her house. He had wanted to surprise her, but now it seemed the surprise wasn’t as big as he’d imagined.

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