Old Fang gifted his gold pen to Fei Ni because she was organizing his manuscript for him. He had originally received the gold pen as a gift from an old friend who visited recently. At that time, after accepting the gold pen, he reciprocated by giving his friend a pair of official kiln famille rose lidded bowls he had purchased from an antique store.
Fei Ni used this new pen to organize Old Fang's manuscript. Whenever she encountered uncertain parts, she naturally sought Old Fang's guidance. Fang Muyang noticed that Fei Ni spoke more with Old Fang in a day than she did with him.
Several times, before dawn had fully broken, Fang Muyang woke to find Fei Ni writing at the desk. He urged her to rest more, but she insisted she had slept enough.
Since moving in with his parents, because the room's walls and floors were relatively soundproof, their marital intimacy had become more frequent. However, there had been none at all in the past week. Fei Ni started working before daybreak and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow at night. Fang Muyang, concerned about her lack of sleep, did not express any dissatisfaction.
Fei Ni had taken on this task suddenly and was determined to prove herself. But gradually, she became captivated by the content of the manuscript. Old Fang was quite a show-off, but he certainly had the capital to boast. A single sentence from him could expand into two densely written pages, and for the same viewpoint, he could trace it back not only to pre-Zhou dynasty but also find its origins among the ancient Greeks. Old Fang didn't discuss national character or differences; he only spoke of human commonalities. Fei Ni greatly admired her father-in-law's scholarship while simultaneously reaching a conclusion: knowing is easy, acting is difficult. In his manuscript, Old Fang occasionally reminded himself that trouble comes from the mouth, advocating being reticent in speech but diligent in action, and listed numerous examples. Yet when it came to himself, he couldn't resist showcasing his knowledge whenever he had the chance, and he couldn't help but critique his contemporary literati. In Old Fang's words, his peers each had their flaws without making new contributions, so Fei Ni needn't bother reading their works. The implication was that she only needed to read his.
Old Fang advised Fei Ni not to rush through organizing the manuscript, but she said she was eager to finish reading it.
Thus, Old Fang had no way to persuade her otherwise—after all, whose manuscript could be so captivating?
Fei Ni only spoke truthfully in front of Old Fang. When she disagreed with something, she remained silent and did not echo. Old Fang overlooked this silence, only feeling that his daughter-in-law's praises were spot-on and her questions highlighted his expertise, making him increasingly believe she was promising material. That rebellious son of his was truly fortunate.
Fei Ni had another reason for hurrying with the manuscript.
Old Fang had mentioned introducing Fang Muyang to a job comparable to working at a pictorial, but there had been no progress these days. She felt too embarrassed to bring it up. Once she finished organizing the manuscript, she would have more grounds to discuss Fang Muyang's job situation with Old Fang. She always felt that Fang Muyang's refusal of the pictorial job was at least half for her sake, which left her somewhat uneasy. If Fang Muyang could secure a similar position, she would feel completely at ease.Another Saturday, Fang Muyang brought home a record, thinking Fei Ni would like it. Back when they’d heard this piece on the radio, Fei Ni would sometimes forget the walls weren’t soundproof and even wanted to turn up the volume. After a week of work, he wanted Fei Ni to relax. Seeing the record did bring Fei Ni some joy, but before Fang Muyang could place it on the turntable, she said, “Go listen next door. I haven’t finished organizing this page of the manuscript yet.”
“The old man isn’t in a hurry.”
“Better to get it done quickly.”
“Then let’s listen together tomorrow.”
Fang Muyang left Fei Ni and went next door to sketch from the art books. Ever since Fei Ni started helping Old Fang organize his manuscript, Fang Muyang had been spending more and more time in this temporary studio. Because it was Saturday, he didn’t stay long this time, returning to the bedroom by ten.
He walked up behind Fei Ni, squeezed her shoulders, and said with a laugh, “Should we turn in early tonight?”
Fei Ni knew what day it was and immediately understood his subtext. “Just a little longer. I’ll be done soon. Why don’t you go take a bath first?”
Fang Muyang leaned down and kissed her cheek, his fingers slipping inside her collar. Fei Ni swatted his hand away. “Stop fooling around, alright?”
She’d said this before, but Fang Muyang knew back then it was mostly out of shyness. Now, there was a real hint of displeasure, as if he were interrupting her important work.
When Fang Muyang returned from his bath, Fei Ni said, “Maybe you should rest first. I just have a little left on this page.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
Fang Muyang leaned against the bed, flipping through the pages Fei Ni had organized. From the words on paper, he could almost hear the old man’s tone. He had to admit the old man really had some skill.
At eleven, Fang Muyang asked, “Still not done?”
“Almost.”
Fang Muyang sketched a small portrait of Fei Ni in the margins of a book with a pencil, glancing at her occasionally.
Fei Ni had fallen asleep, her face pressed against the desk.
Fang Muyang gave a wry smile, stood up, and carried Fei Ni from the chair to the bed. He undressed her, covered her with a thin blanket, and listened to her even breathing as he watched her sleeping face. Amid his concern, a flicker of dissatisfaction arose—not just because his physical needs went unmet, but because he felt completely overlooked by Fei Ni.
In her drowsiness, Fei Ni felt someone kissing her. From the familiar touch, she knew it was Fang Muyang. She thought she was dreaming, and the dream made her a little self-conscious. Unlike Fang Muyang, who always seemed to have that desire, she only felt the urge to be close when he kissed and held her. She responded to him out of instinct rather than reason.
A while later, Fei Ni realized it was real. Fang Muyang’s kisses grew more intense, even biting her painfully, yet his hands remained gentle. After so long without such intimacy, Fei Ni felt stirred as well. She always responded to the touch of his fingers, and this time was no exception. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she breathed rapidly, waiting for him to take the next step.
But Fang Muyang didn’t seem to be in a hurry—neither to satisfy her nor himself."I know you don't want to, and I won't force you." Fang Muyang's words were as gentle as his fingers as he discussed the arrangement of their future home with Fei Ni. "Do you remember that painting I made for you that day? I plan to buy a frame, have it mounted, and hang it in our bedroom. What do you think?"
Fei Ni clenched her teeth to prevent any other sounds from escaping her lips. She recalled the scene from that day when Fang Muyang had been sharpening his pencil while studying her before starting to paint.
"You haven't forgotten what I painted, have you? Let me help you relive it."
Fang Muyang's fingers served as the brush, while Fei Ni became the canvas for his sketching.
The dimples at the small of Fei Ni's back were also part of this canvas. Soon, the paper became damp with sweat.
Fang Muyang kept his promise perfectly, not forcing Fei Ni in the slightest.
"If you don't want to, I would never force you." Although Fei Ni's body showed no signs of refusal, unless she said so, Fang Muyang wouldn't take further initiative.
Fei Ni reached out to embrace Fang Muyang, lightly flicking the tip of her tongue over his dry lips. "Are you thirsty? Let me get you a glass of water."
Until dawn, Fang Muyang never got the water Fei Ni offered. Fei Ni rarely slept this late, and Fang Muyang traced the contours of her face with his fingers. The previous night, Fei Ni had been quite excited for a while, responding to him passionately, but after just one time, she fell asleep again.
Fang Muyang didn't know whether to feel sorry for Fei Ni or for himself.
Fang Muyang realized that the manuscript indeed held great appeal for Fei Ni—she not only ignored him but also neglected the house they were planning to rent. The previous tenant had already moved out, and the landlord had notified them that they could move in. Since the house needed thorough tidying up, Fang Muyang hadn't mentioned it to Fei Ni. He intended to tell her only after everything was completely ready, hoping to surprise her. With his newly received manuscript fee, he used the money to purchase items and, after work, rode his bicycle to their future small courtyard to clean and organize. He told his family he was working overtime and asked them not to wait for him for dinner.
Fei Ni didn't forget her primary responsibilities despite organizing the manuscript. She still went to work on time and diligently made hats as usual. The only difference from before was that she no longer queued to bathe in the factory's public bath.
One day, while female workers from Fei Ni's workshop were bathing in the bathroom, someone suddenly asked, "Why haven't I seen Fei Ni even once these days?""
At that moment, everyone realized that Fei Ni indeed hadn't been around for some time. In the past, on every bathhouse open day, Fei Ni would definitely come to bathe.
Someone else brought up Fei Ni's recent housing exchange.
"Maybe the place Fei Ni moved to has bathing facilities."
It was impossible for Fei Ni to suddenly stop bathing; the only explanation was that her new place had bathing amenities.
Wang Xiaoman, Fei Ni's former neighbor, happened to be there that day. Upon hearing this, she said, "I heard Fei Ni's new place does have a bathroom, but the person she exchanged houses with mentioned they used to bathe outside too."
One female worker speculated, "Could it be that Fei Ni's husband hurt her while being rough with her?"
Sister Liu defended Fei Ni and her husband, saying, "Don't spread rumors if you don't know. I've met Fei Ni's husband a few times, and he doesn't seem like that kind of person at all.""To know a person's face is easy, but not their heart. Xiao Yang's husband wears glasses and looks like an educated man, yet he hits her too. The other day, that bespectacled man beat Xiao Yang, and she hasn't come to the bathhouse for days."
"Really? But isn't Xiao Yang's husband lying in the hospital now? How could he hit anyone?"
"After Xiao Yang got beaten, she went back to her parents' home and told her three brothers. As soon as they heard, they came over and beat her husband so badly he ended up in the hospital. I heard he still can't get out of bed."
The conversation circled back to Fei Ni. Wang Xiaoman didn't believe Fei Ni had been beaten by her husband—those two were so disgustingly lovey-dovey it made her sick. But she couldn't think of any other reason either.
Sister Liu was the first to question Fei Ni about this. As Fei Ni's team leader, she naturally couldn't stand by if Fei Ni was being mistreated by her husband.
Noticing something odd about Fei Ni's high-collared blouse, she asked directly, "Xiao Fei, how come I haven't seen you at the bathhouse lately?"
"I've been bathing at home now."
Of course, Sister Liu would never imagine Fei Ni could enjoy ready hot water baths at home. Since Fei Ni never used to bathe at home but suddenly stopped coming to the bathhouse altogether, Sister Liu couldn't help suspecting Fei Ni might truly be suffering domestic abuse.
"How are things between you and Xiao Fang recently?"
"Fine, why do you ask?"
"If you're having difficulties, don't hide them from me. The factory will stand up for you."
Fei Ni couldn't immediately grasp what Sister Liu meant. "What are you implying?"
"Did Xiao Fang hit you?"
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