Mu Jing felt somewhat apologetic; the cafeteria truly had nothing decent to eat—only greens and potatoes, not even the steamed buns Qu Hua had asked for.
Mu Jing smiled at Qu Hua, wiped his chopsticks for him, and even the cafeteria's table and chairs seemed to declare how difficult life here was.
Mu Jing lowered her head and took a few bites of the greens. "I brought some canned food. You eat here first, and I'll go get it."
"Keep it for yourself. I don't want that."
He lowered his head to eat the rice in his bowl, and Mu Jing silently watched him. When Qu Hua raised his eyes, Mu Jing looked down again.
Mu Jing didn't ask Qu Hua where he was going later or where he would stay tonight. The two ate a meal in silence. Mu Jing saw Qu Hua out of the school gate. It wasn't a long distance, but they walked for a long time because neither spoke, making it feel even longer. Mu Jing watched Qu Hua leave until he turned the corner without looking back. Mu Jing turned and saw the stars in the sky.
When Qu Hua turned around, Mu Jing had already entered the school gate, gradually shrinking into a tiny dot in Qu Hua's eyes.
Qu Hua's mother dug out the monthly magazine her son had been featured in back then. She was surprised to see her daughter-in-law's name in it and flipped back to look at the photo. The facial features indeed resembled her daughter-in-law's, but the expression was worlds apart—it was the unique look of a teenage girl. Of course, that was Mu Jing's unique teenage years, a face that had never known hardship, not even the usual struggles of exams. It seemed as if she had effortlessly won first prize without even trying.
She showed the yellowed magazine to her son. "You two really are fated—your pages are right next to each other. I often flipped through this back then, but I never noticed Mu Jing." It seemed that no matter how much information one sees, they only absorb the parts they pay attention to.
Back then, he was the same. Disgusted by his father showing off his magazine feature everywhere, he couldn't even be bothered to flip through it and naturally never noticed Fang Mu Jing inside. It was Yanyan who first discovered Fang Mu Jing in the magazine. She held up the photo and asked Qu Hua, who had just finished playing ball with his grandfather, "Don't you think she's very pretty?"
"Really?"
"Look more carefully. I think she's very beautiful, even more than movie stars, especially her eyes..." Yanyan felt Mu Jing resembled her, so if Qu Hua praised Fang Mu Jing, it would be like praising her. However, she didn't get the answer she wanted from Qu Hua.
It was Yanyan's grandfather who spoke up: "Doesn't this girl look a lot like Yanyan?"
Qu Hua replied, "I don't see it at all. They're completely different people."
Yanyan looked disappointed. "I asked many people, and they all said that people who are good at math will get better and better at studying." Yanyan was terrible at math, and even Qu Hua's tutoring didn't help. She always found various reasons to prove her poor math skills were temporary. "I wish I were her—not only good enough at math to win first prize and be in a magazine but also to share a page with you." Staring at the face in the magazine, she continued, "She seems like she's read a lot of books and has more grace than me." Qu Hua wasn't in the habit of belittling one person in front of another, but he told Yanyan, "I don't see her having more grace than you; I just think she's more affected."
Yanyan didn't believe him. "That's because you know me better. People always think those they're familiar with are more attractive." She pinched her chubby cheeks. "When I lose this baby fat, I'll probably grow up to look like her."In truth, he did find Mu Jing's poses in the magazine rather affected, and Yanyan really had no reason to feel inferior to others.
Yet Yanyan herself never thought Fang Mu Jing was artificial. Instead, she saw the photographed Mu Jing as the epitome of beauty—her idealized self. She would imitate her from time to time, much like a Sichuan opera face-changer performing a quick transformation before reverting to her own self in the next moment. While the photographed Fang Mu Jing smiled without showing her teeth, Yanyan couldn’t help but flash a full-toothed grin. She even believed that Fang Mu Jing, who excelled in mathematics, could bless her to do well in math too. She regarded Mu Jing as her role model, pasting her picture above her bed for daily inspiration. On the back of Fang Mu Jing’s photo was an introduction to Qu Hua. To Yanyan, Fang Mu Jing represented her future self. Though the age gap between them was small, that slight difference in time led Yanyan to believe that, given enough days, she too would become someone like Mu Jing.
Qu Hua didn’t think Yanyan needed to become someone else, but he knew she was just being childish—it was only a matter of time before she moved on to imitating another person. Yet Yanyan kept Fang Mu Jing’s picture pinned up at home for over a year. It wasn’t until the college entrance exam was canceled and she no longer had to take math that she stopped looking up to her. Later, Yanyan took up dancing, quickly rose to become the lead dancer, and thrived in the spotlight. She no longer needed to idolize a woman who was good at math—she had found herself. Until her last moments, she remained lively and playful. She said to him, "Since ancient times, beauties have been like famous generals—they seldom live to see gray hair. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have grown so beautiful. But being beautiful isn’t something one can help, is it?" Yanyan, who usually smiled with her teeth showing, suddenly shifted into the pose from Fang Mu Jing’s photo in that monthly magazine. It lasted only a moment before she returned to her usual self. "Back then, my greatest wish was to become a woman like Fang Mu Jing and marry you. Thinking back, that was such a silly idea. It’s as if I never really understood you. Brother Hua, you will surely meet someone you like who likes you back." After that monthly issue, she never saw Fang Mu Jing through any other channel. In those days, she had even thought she would become a mathematician.
"If—I mean if—I really don’t wake up, before they wheel me out, please fix my face. I want Yuan Ling to see me at my best."
It was only when Qu Hua caught sight of the word "math" peeking out of Mu Jing’s bag that he connected the person before him with the Fang Mu Jing whose photo had once adorned Yanyan’s desk. Before that, he had just witnessed her hysterical cursing—a complete contrast to the impression he had of her from back then.
In truth, he had never met her before; most of what he knew about her came from Yanyan.
Time truly changes many things. He thought to himself, while Yanyan could effortlessly mimic Mu Jing’s former demeanor, Fang Mu Jing herself could no longer pull it off. She either cursed without regard for her image or remained guarded and reticent.
The only resemblance between them was a single profile. Fang Mu Jing was not like Yanyan—not in the past, and even less so now. The more time he spent with her, the clearer this became.Ten days later, Mu Jing received several large packages. Besides canned jam, the largest package contained a thirty-jin bag of flour. The school's grain rations were limited, with priority given to students. Faculty rations were smaller than those of students and mixed with dried sweet potatoes. For most people, getting enough to eat wasn't difficult, but having a satisfying meal was quite challenging. For northerners, eating wheat-based foods here wasn't easy. Her roommate was from the north and hadn't had a single scallion pancake since returning from visiting family—even getting steamed buns from the cafeteria was difficult.
Mu Jing gave her roommate three jin of flour. Her roommate said it was too much, as if flour were some incredibly precious commodity. The roommate brought out her treasured sesame oil to make scallion pancakes. Even with the door closed, the aroma spread throughout the hallway. When they were done, the roommate shared half with Mu Jing. With the remaining flour, she made dumplings and a large bowl of fried dough nuggets. Many northern faculty members received some flour from Mu Jing. Though each person got only a small amount, since flour was scarce here, it felt particularly valuable. Everyone felt embarrassed about sharing what Mu Jing's husband had mailed her, so they reciprocated with items from their own care packages. Though the cafeteria offered limited dishes, Mu Jing never lacked for good food.
Mu Jing had no time to ponder what kind of feelings Qu Hua held for her. There were still hundreds of encoding schemes waiting for her to calculate manually. Old Wu said during a meeting: "Don't be afraid of difficulty. It's precisely the fucking difficulty that highlights our value. Our generation processes data with human brains now—as long as we complete our tasks, the next generation will be able to use computers."
Old Wu was no longer the person Mu Jing had met over ten years ago. Back then, she wouldn't have cursed so frequently, yet she remained distinctive on campus where nobody else dared to be so unconventional. Mu Jing later learned this was actually Old Wu being restrained—before she attended university, people often saw Old Wu wearing a loose long skirt with an overcoat, her hair in a bun, one hand holding a cigarette and the other in her pocket, walking briskly across campus. This became a campus landmark. Her siblings all lived abroad and frequently sent her money and supplies. She donated all the US dollars, and being single with a monthly salary of several hundred yuan plus substantial overseas remittance coupons, she lived more freely than anyone.
After being reinstated, unlike others who became cautious after suffering setbacks, Old Wu grew even more fiery and crude, constantly punctuating her speech with "fucking." Since surviving tuberculosis and brushing with death, she no longer chain-smoked like before. Tea replaced cigarettes—the bitterer the better. She drank from a large enamel mug, frequently taking gulps. Whenever Mu Jing saw her drinking tea like that, she guessed Old Wu must be craving a cigarette and was using tea to suppress the urge.
"If we succeed in this, we'll be history makers. Just witnessing history is fucking boring. Our era has given our generation this opportunity, and we must seize it." Old Wu took another swig of tea after speaking. Though significantly older than others in the research group, she always grouped herself with Mu Jing, who was over twenty years younger, as part of the same generation.Mu Jing was no longer the Mu Jing Old Wu remembered. Back then, she possessed the greatest weakness of intelligent people—always seeking shortcuts when solving problems, disdaining laborious methods. The arrogance on her face felt like a thorn to those with fragile self-esteem. How time could reshape a person’s countenance. Her face now bore no trace of that piercing pride; instead, it seemed capable of embracing everything, even the harm others inflicted upon her.
Mu Jing had also developed a habit of drinking tea. She constantly felt pressed for time, sometimes spending entire nights in the office, drinking tea whenever drowsiness struck, as if opportunities might be snatched away at any moment. Even Old Wu, known for his relentless work ethic, grew concerned and urged her to rest. "If you keep this up, you’ll ruin your health before achieving any results."
Though Mu Jing was the youngest in the team, she carried a heavier sense of urgency than anyone else. Old Wu understood her well—this was exactly how she felt upon returning to work.
Her mother-in-law called, asking her to visit home, but Mu Jing always replied she would go another time. She went to the market and bought local specialties at high prices from villagers, mailing them to the Qu family along with fabric. Every time her mother-in-law called, she sent something. She received packages monthly, containing both food and daily necessities, most of which she shared with colleagues. Even Old Wu praised Qu Hua, "Your partner is truly remarkable, supporting your work so wholeheartedly." Each time she heard this, Mu Jing would gulp down her tea.
When Old Wu casually inquired about Mu Jing’s partner, she described Qu Hua as an outstanding neurosurgeon. The most vivid memory she had of him was his emergence from the operating room, his hair mostly soaked with sweat. The moment she said this, Mu Jing found it strange herself. She had thought that whether Qu Hua was a doctor, a worker, or anything else didn’t matter, as long as he provided her with some shelter—just as he had on the train, bringing her from the standing-only carriage to the sleeper berth. She married him for much the same reason. Qu Hua sensed this; he agreed to marry her but didn’t quite respect her. His Yanyan would never do such a thing for a better life—he had been forced to realize this early on. She, too, wanted to leave him decisively, to preserve her dignity, but her ideals wouldn’t allow it.
Mu Jing saw Qu Hua again at the Machine Factory. She received packages every month, containing not only food but also clothes that fit perfectly. She found time to visit a store but couldn’t find suitable clothes for Qu Hua, so she bought gray wool yarn. Hearing that a nearby aunt took on knitting jobs to supplement her family’s income and was highly skilled, Mu Jing asked her to knit a sweater. The sweater was finished quickly, and Mu Jing mailed it to Qu Hua.Mu Jing went to the factory with her colleagues. She had just come out of the workshop, still wearing the work uniform issued by the factory. After arriving at the Branch Campus, she directly cut off most of her hair with scissors and casually tied up the remaining strands. With a cap pulled over her head, her thin face made her eyes appear even larger and brighter. Her face was flushed, not out of shyness—she had just taken fever-reducing medicine in the morning. During the day, she conducted technical analysis at the factory, and at night, she continued screening coding schemes in the dormitory provided by the Machine Factory. When she felt tired, she drank tea in large gulps. She greeted the others and walked toward Qu Hua with a smile. But as she approached, she found herself at a loss for words. She thought he must have gone to the school looking for her and only then learned she was here.
The two stood facing each other.
"I received all the things you mailed me. Thank you." Apart from "thank you," there seemed to be nothing else to say.
OpenNovel