Chapter 28: This Is Clearly a Malady, and a Grave One at That

"How about this, come back in three days, and I will give you the original manuscript paper from the Fine Arts Publishing House."

"Thank you, Teacher Meng."

"Next time you register for a correspondence course, make sure to come early, understood?"

"Understood."

...

A particularly interesting phenomenon of comic books in this era is the lack of a specific artistic style. You could use ink wash, line drawing, freehand brushwork, or even elaborate gongbi-style colors and oil painting. Zheng Fei once saw Teacher Dai Honghai’s "Liu Yi Delivers the Letter," which utilized the meticulous gongbi style; every frame was incredibly aesthetic. As for He Duoling in his youth, he even submitted a piece titled "The House with an Attic," which consisted entirely of 44 oil paintings.

In this era, comic books were a channel for many artists to earn money and gain fame. Simply put, there were no restrictions on the form of expression; as long as it could pass censorship and be printed, it could be shoved into a comic book.

...

After leaving the studio, Zheng Fei went to a nearby state-run store to purchase the various tools needed for drawing comics, including rulers, erasers, fountain pens, dip pens, ink, various grades of pencils, as well as some brushes and sketch paper.

The checkout process made his heart ache for a long time; it cost him nearly ten yuan in total. The fountain pen accounted for the bulk of the expense—a Hero brand pen sold for four yuan and fifty cents. It seems that being an art student is truly expensive; not only is it unaffordable for future generations, but it was just as difficult to afford in this era.

Just as Zheng Fei was carrying his things and planning to return to Tanziwan, he unexpectedly ran into two young women at a street corner. However, when one of them saw Zheng Fei, she looked inexplicably angry, turned around, and walked away.

Zheng Fei tilted his head and frowned. He hadn't offended her, so why did she look so angry upon seeing him? Now that he had finally earned some money, he had even been thinking about treating her to a cup of coffee.

The other girl, however, waved at him in a friendly manner, leaving behind an awkward but polite smile.

After walking for a while, Haitang stomped her feet in anger. She was speechless at herself; why had she turned and walked away? She had barely had any contact with him—she had only drawn his portrait once, and because she had borrowed his camera and was worried about losing it, she had spent a day showing him around Shanghai.

Seeing her twisted expression, Li Wenwen pointed in the direction they had come from and said, "Shall we turn back now?"

"Hmph, how could we?"

Li Wenwen was puzzled. "You ran away the moment you saw him; that just makes you look guilty. From another perspective, he might think you’re a strange person, or perhaps that you care about him quite a lot."

"Or he might let his imagination run wild, thinking he offended you somewhere. You spent a whole day showing him Shanghai, yet he didn't have the money to buy you a meal. Turning around and walking away like that might hit his self-esteem hard; he might feel inferior, thinking you look down on him because he’s too poor."

The literary-minded Li Wenwen provided a lengthy analysis. Haitang froze in place, her face burning red as she murmured, "How could that be? We’ve only met three times."

Li Wenwen didn't call her bluff. Recently, her parents had come to ask questions, saying that Haitang's supervisor mentioned she had been listless at work, always appearing absent-minded. She would stare out the window for long periods or skip work from time to time to go daydream in the park below the Bund.

This was clearly an ailment. And a serious one at that!

After being told this by Li Wenwen, Haitang felt even more guilty, which only seemed to show that she was interested in him. But if she showed it so obviously after only a few meetings, wouldn't that make her look like a woman who was frivolous with her feelings?

Haitang steeled herself and walked back, but when she reached the intersection where they had just met, Zheng Fei was nowhere to be seen. He had vanished again. Was this man a rabbit?

Li Wenwen sighed and muttered, "We finally ran into him, and by the time you see him next, he might already be a father."

Haitang glared at her.

Just then, a figure slowly emerged from a grocery store behind them and ran straight into them.

Zheng Fei smiled and said, "I saw you walking in that direction earlier and was hoping to say hello."

"Uh..."

Haitang’s body stiffened; for a moment, she couldn't organize her thoughts. Fortunately, Wenwen came to the rescue: "Haitang was in a rush to buy something, but we’re finished now."

"I see. No wonder you were in such a hurry when I wanted to say hello."

Haitang let out a sigh of relief. As expected of a bookworm, her ability to organize language was much better than hers.

Zheng Fei habitually raised his left hand, only to awkwardly realize he wasn't wearing a watch. He instinctively looked toward the clock tower, but realized it was on another street.

Haitang rolled her eyes at him, raised her own left hand, and checked her wristwatch. "It is November 3, 1980, at 5:43 PM."

Zheng Fei smiled. "Last time, I left in too much of a hurry. I wonder if I might have the honor of inviting you two comrades for a casual meal?"

Hearing this, Li Wenwen frowned slightly. She sensed something quite unusual and felt a bit uncomfortable at that moment.

"The Xinhua Bookstore is nearby. The clerk told me the reprint of 'Scar' had arrived. I’m going to go take a look."

Just as Wenwen was about to leave, Haitang grabbed her firmly, and with surprising strength: "There’s no rush, the bookstore doesn't close that early."

Li Wenwen immediately wore an expression of despair, then said, "Alright, let’s have a casual meal tonight."

Haitang glanced at Zheng Fei and noticed he hadn't changed much, except for looking even more unkempt—he hadn't even shaved his stubble. His faded Zhongshan suit showed signs of stitching, and through the patches on his cloth shoes, Haitang could tell they were the same ones he had been wearing when she met him in the summer. She worried that Zheng Fei was putting on a brave face just to insist on treating them to dinner.

"I know of a good old noodle shop in a nearby alley. Their spicy meat noodles and pork fat residue vegetable wontons are quite good."

Hearing this, Li Wenwen turned her head away. She really wanted to roll her eyes at her, because not long ago, she had been complaining about that very noodle shop.

But what surprised them both was that the thin young man in front of them smiled and said, "In the spirit of reciprocity, let’s go to the Donghai Cafe instead. Their pork cutlets are truly delicious."

Upon hearing "Donghai Cafe," Haitang couldn't help but feel nervous. Was this Zheng Fei going to make her pay again? Although she had just received a raise, a meal for three would cost at least ten yuan, and it was still the beginning of the month.

With ten days left until payday, if she spent all her money now, she would have to live miserably for the rest of the month.

Seeing how thin he was, Haitang sighed helplessly. "Fine, let’s go to Donghai. But it’s evening, so I won't have coffee; I’m afraid I won't be able to sleep."

Not long after, a poor boy in a faded Zhongshan suit and two beautiful young women entered the cafe.

This combination instantly drew everyone's attention. Some of the refined "Old Shanghainese" naturally looked at Zheng Fei with disdain, as if to say, "The toad wishing for swan meat."

One waiter had a deep impression of them because, the last time they came, this young woman had paid, and the man had packed up all the leftovers. Although this was a cafe, it was state-run, and the staff were paid well. While the waiter wore a smile, he felt deep contempt for Zheng Fei.

"What would you like to order?"

This time, Zheng Fei didn't even look at the menu and said quite naturally, "The same as last time: a cup of milk coffee, an order of grilled cheese, plus a pork cutlet and a bowl of soup."

Hearing this, Haitang tensed up and let out a heavy sigh. To her surprise, Wenwen, sitting next to her, also picked up the menu.

"I’ll have the same."

Haitang looked at her in shock, reminding her intentionally or not, "If you eat that much, aren't you afraid of getting fat?"

Li Wenwen replied, "My mother is always scolding me for being too thin, telling me to eat more meat so I won't end up unable to get married."

Haitang: ...

Wenwen only looked refined and thin; in reality, she was more robust than Haitang herself.

Haitang looked at the menu. "Just give me a sparkling water and an order of toast."

Seeing her order so little, Zheng Fei frowned. "You’re too thin; you need to eat more. Have a pork cutlet. And I just checked, their spaghetti seems pretty good too."

Before Haitang could agree, Zheng Fei said to the waiter, "Make that a sparkling water, an order of toast, a pork cutlet, and an order of spaghetti with tomato sauce."

After Zheng Fei finished ordering, Haitang’s heart sank. She had just calculated that all of these items combined would leave her wallet completely empty.

With ten days left until next month's payday, it seemed she would have to ask her family for money again, and her mother would certainly start lecturing her incessantly.