Chapter 13: Taking Advantage of Opportunities

It was already eight o’clock in the evening when Zheng Fei returned to Tanziwan. The alleyway was packed with people, and it was quite a struggle for him to squeeze through while carrying his easel.

The neighbors were all gathered around a black-and-white television set belonging to Old Zeng. He was a shift leader at the paint factory. Having saved up a year’s wages to buy the TV, he usually kept it at home, only moving it out to the corridor on days off so the neighbors could watch too.

The film playing tonight was *Tunnel Warfare*. Zheng Fei could still sing the theme song by heart.

"Tunnel warfare, hey, tunnel warfare,
Hidden with millions of divine soldiers, hey,
Hidden with millions of divine soldiers..."

He remembered that when he was a child, besides *Tunnel Warfare*, he most often watched *Mine Warfare* and *Railway Guerrillas*. Whenever the anti-Japanese heroes emerged from hidden spots to fight the invaders, someone in the crowd would inevitably start applauding.

"Well fought!"
"Kill those Japanese devils!"

An old man began to weep, suddenly recalling the past: "Back when the devils came, our Suzhou Creek was filled with the bodies of our compatriots killed by them. The entire surface of the river was covered."

"My grandfather was murdered during that time, too."

Zheng Fei watched for a moment, marveling at how good the eyesight of people in this era was. Even sitting so far away, they could clearly make out the images on that nine-inch black-and-white screen. In his past life, he felt his 100-inch projector wasn't immersive enough and had always dreamed of building a home theater.

When he reached his home and climbed the stairs, a small, mischievous head peeked out from the room next door. She ran toward him happily.

"Brother, let me help you with the easel."
"What a good girl."

Zheng Fei patted her head. When he entered his room, he found Auntie Huang sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing reading glasses and embroidering. She was part of the neighborhood production group; besides taking care of the kids and cooking, she would take on extra work from the group.

Auntie Huang said, "Your food is cold. Let me heat it up for you."
"No need, I’ll just have a simple bite."
"That won't do. If you get an upset stomach, medical care costs money for an unemployed youth like you."

Zheng Fei paused, realizing that the benefits for workers in this era were genuinely good—not only was medical care free, but their family members enjoyed perks too. Ever since he started sharing meals with Auntie Huang, Zheng Fei finally felt a sense of home.

...

He had been squatting and painting all day, and Zheng Fei was genuinely tired. After dinner, he drew a bucket of water from the side of Suzhou Creek, took a quick wash, and climbed into bed.

Before he knew it, he woke up to the sky turning gray.

Accompanied by the "thump-thump-thump" of wood knocking, someone shouted loudly, "Bring out your chamber pots! Bring out your chamber pots..."
"Brother Fei, get up! Time to empty the pots!"

The one shouting was Wang Qiusheng. Woken up, Zheng Fei opened the window to scold him, only to be hit by an overwhelming, nauseating stench. Wang Qiusheng and his father were pulling a manure cart, urging everyone to hurry up.

"I didn't use it last night, no need to empty it."
Wang Qiusheng shouted back, "You should still go; don't hold it in and cause yourself trouble."
"Get lost! Stop disturbing my sleep."

Like the original owner of this body, Zheng Fei despised these small chamber pots. His was wooden, and using it meant having to fetch water to scrub it clean—a huge hassle. As a child, he used to squat directly over Suzhou Creek to relieve himself. After growing up, he would sneak off to the dry latrines at the nearby Textile Factory No. 3. If he could handle it outside, he was determined never to do it in the room.

...

Life in this era was quite monotonous; everyone repeated the same mechanical tasks almost every day. This morning, Zheng Fei carried his easel out again to the same spot. For some reason, he only landed one commission this morning, earning forty cents.

Around noon...

The woman named Haitang appeared before him with a smile. She seemed to have dressed up a bit today and looked even more radiant than the day before.

"Free-spirited artist, you don't seem to have many customers today."
Zheng Fei was curious: "How do you know? Have you been peeking at me?"

Haitang froze, then pointed to a building not far away: "I work over there. I can see you just by looking out the window."

Zheng Fei looked over. She was pointing at No. 14 The Bund, the Shanghai Federation of Trade Unions. In this era where the working class was supreme, this unit was incredibly powerful. If you had a relative working there, getting into any factory was just a matter of a single note. He had guessed she wasn't an ordinary person, but he hadn't expected her to be this impressive. At that very moment, Zheng Fei really wanted to be a kept man.

Perhaps he could save twenty years of struggle!

Though waves crashed in his heart, he was, after all, a man who had lived two lives. Zheng Fei pretended to be calm and brought out the portrait. "I've finished the painting for your friend. Take a look."

Upon receiving the portrait, she was truly surprised because it was so well done; it felt like it could be framed and placed on a desk. "Not bad. You’re silver-tongued, but you do have some skill."

To bridge the distance between them, Zheng Fei asked with a smile, "Comrade, would you like one yourself?"

Haitang shook her head like a rattle: "I'll pass. I can't even sit still at work, let alone sit for a portrait." She reached into her small purse: "Tell me, how much for this painting?"

Seeing her reach for money, Zheng Fei quickly said, "How vulgar. How can art be measured by money?"

Haitang burst into a laugh. "You’re so young, why is your speech so greasy? You sound just like Old Li from our alley."

Zheng Fei certainly didn't want her money. If he let her pay, the fate that had brought them together would be over. The most important part of picking up women was having no shame—a core skill that the "Yellow-Haired Kid" often relied on.

"If you really feel bad about it, just treat me to a cup of coffee."

Haitang checked her watch. After a moment of thought, she replied, "Fine. I have some time before I start work this afternoon. I can treat you to one."

Zheng Fei had just been throwing it out there; he hadn't expected her to actually agree. Not bad. This woman was worth pursuing!

Led by Haitang, Zheng Fei, carrying his simple easel, arrived at a cafe on Dianchi Road called "Donghai." Zheng Fei knew this place; it was a favorite of the old Shanghai elites and quite a well-established cafe. But the moment he stepped inside, he felt instantly out of place, like a crane in a flock of chickens.

Inside were either stylishly dressed young men and women or very refined old-timers. With his worn-out shirt and cloth shoes mended by Auntie Huang, he looked like he had just come from the countryside. Seeing the strange looks people were casting his way, Zheng Fei didn't feel intimidated at all. He naturally found an empty seat and sat down, placing his easel to the side.

Looking at the retro, luxurious environment, Zheng Fei felt a slight pang of emotion. One side of Suzhou Creek and the other felt like two different worlds.

After they were seated, a waiter dressed much better than Zheng Fei approached with a smile, menu in hand. "What would you like to order?"

Zheng Fei took the menu, scanned it briefly, and said on the spot, "A milk coffee, an order of grilled cheese, a pork cutlet, and a bowl of thick soup."

Hearing this, Haitang was stunned. They were supposed to be having coffee—why order so much? After he finished ordering, the waitress looked a bit hesitant before turning to Haitang. "Miss Haitang, what would you like?"

"Just a black coffee and toast will do."

But no sooner had she placed her order than the young artist picked up a newspaper and a magazine to read. Haitang was truly curious. He looked so shabby, not like someone from this circle, yet he ordered faster than she did, and the items he chose were exactly what her grandfather liked.

For some reason, this silver-tongued young man gave her a feeling of being completely unfathomable. Plus, he was ruthless. The milk coffee was nearly thirty cents, the pork cutlet one yuan eighty, the grilled cheese fifteen cents, and the soup thirty cents. Adding hers, the meal would cost nearly three yuan. Her workplace was decent, but her salary was only slightly higher than a regular worker; she couldn't afford this kind of extravagance often. Her wallet was going to be emptied in an instant.

Zheng Fei read the paper for a while. Usually, if he wanted to read, he had to borrow from Old Man Sun or check the community bulletin board.

Since it wasn't very crowded, the food arrived quickly. First came his milk coffee and grilled cheese, followed immediately by the pork cutlet. Zheng Fei hadn't expected to eat such a thing in this era. The moment it was set down, his body reacted instinctively. Smelling that fried pork cutlet, every cell in his body seemed to be activated, and his mind had only one thought: Eat!

Although the girl didn't look like she was broke, he felt a bit guilty about sponging off her. Still, the painting he did for her friend was, strictly speaking, worth the price of this meal. If it wasn't enough, he could just paint her portrait and give it to her next time they met. He already remembered her facial features well enough that even if she weren't sitting in front of him, the painting wouldn't be far off.

Seeing she had ordered so little—not even a cutlet—Zheng Fei used his knife and fork to cut the pork cutlet in half. "Here, half for you!"

Haitang couldn't hold it in anymore and looked around frantically. Luckily, no one she knew was there, or she would have wanted to crawl into a hole. If they weren't in a cafe where everyone was quiet, she would have yelled at him for being a "thirteen-pointer" (a local slang for a fool).

Haitang pushed the cutlet back. "I don't want it. I'm on a diet."

Now it was Zheng Fei's turn to be speechless. She was so thin there was hardly any meat on her; what was she dieting for? Any more weight loss and those two mounds on her chest would shrink even further. Only X-men liked skin and bones; he, a veteran of many battles, hated the scrawny type. Not only did they lack a good feel, but they were painful to bump into.

...

As they were finishing up, Zheng Fei changed the subject and brought up his real motive. In truth, he wasn't sure he could pull it off. But after spending a little time with this girl named Haitang, he realized she wasn't very good at rejecting people.

"By the way, Comrade Haitang, I have a favor to ask of you."

Haitang's expression soured instantly. She said bluntly, "If it's about work, I definitely won't help."
"No, no. A person who yearns for freedom like me—why would I ever want a job?"
Haitang: "?"

"It's like this: I've been researching ancient temple murals, but there's so much content I can't memorize it all. I happened to notice you have a camera, so I was hoping to borrow it."

"Ah!" Haitang looked troubled. "Lending you the camera isn't the hard part, but it's really bad timing—it's already been lent to someone else. If you want to borrow it, you'll have to wait until next week."

Zheng Fei smiled. "I lack many things, but I have plenty of time. I can certainly wait."

Hearing this, Haitang suddenly realized that after talking to him, she had lost all initiative. She hadn't even agreed to lend it to him yet, but he seemed to have already decided for her. She was speechless; he had absolutely no sense of boundaries.

Haitang continued, "I can lend it to you, but the camera is quite expensive, and we aren't close. When you use it, I'll have to be right there with you."
"No problem."
"Also, you have to buy the film yourself."
"Of course! If I borrowed your camera and made you pay for the film, would I even be a decent human being?"

Haitang cursed under her breath. She felt this guy had a hide as thick as a wall; he was exactly the type to pull something like that. She glanced at her watch. "I have to go to work. Let's make it next Sunday. Wait for me at the Bund."
"Good, I'll wait for you."

Haitang shivered slightly. The words sounded normal, but the tone felt off. She stood up to pay the bill and hurried away from the free-spirited artist who made her feel so uncomfortable.

Zheng Fei looked at the leftovers on the table. Instead of finishing them, he called out to the waiter: "Waiter, help me pack this to go."
"Do you want the leftover soup too?"
"Of course! How can we waste food? Help me scrape it clean."

He had truly enjoyed the meal. Zheng Fei felt like he wouldn't even need to brush his teeth tonight; when he got back to Tanziwan, he’d breathe on everyone he met and smell them to death. He planned to take the leftovers back for Auntie Huang and Xiao Yun.