Tagebuch der Wiedergeburt einer reichen Familie

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1. Huang Biyun - A Romance in a Prosperous Era

~Novel t xt Heaven

Shujing first met Fang Guochu on an autumn afternoon. She didn't know if it was the gentle autumn colors, his slightly hunched back, or the worn-out smell emanating from the outdated hardcover books on his office bookshelf, but she remembered it as an autumn afternoon and couldn't forget it.

She gently held onto the door; he carried her on his back, hunched over the typewriter, typing away, but she couldn't see him. She suddenly stopped, like an actor about to enter the stage, anticipating the fierce battle on the spot, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"My name is Cheng Shujing, and I am your student."

He didn't stop, continuing to type, saying, "Oh. Mr. Zhu didn't tell me he was a Mandarin speaker."

"I spent seven years in Taipei and I still can't speak Cantonese."

Shujing was originally Professor Zhu's student, intending to work with him on a research topic titled "Public Housing Estates and National Administrative Power." However, Professor Zhu discovered he had contracted tuberculosis and needed to take a year's leave. He then solemnly introduced Shujing to Fang Guochu: Fang Guochu was an active social figure in Hong Kong in the 1970s, with a solid foundation in left-wing theory and practice. Professor Zhu patted Shujing on the shoulder and told her she would also have to be Fang Guochu's teaching assistant for a specialized course. Shujing frowned, feeling displeased, but still had to maintain a polite demeanor towards Professor Zhu. Professor Zhu was Taiwanese; he understood the limitations of conducting sociological research there, yet he was pushing her towards a left-wing figure…

"Do you have the syllabus yet? What about the course schedule for the tutorial?" She still hadn't turned around and was still typing. Shujing leaned against the door frame, suddenly feeling very wronged, so she just leaned against the door and remained silent.

He was knocking, patting, tapping, patting, the knocking getting slower and slower. He thought she had left; Shujing stood there at the door of a strange man, considering whether to say, "I'm leaving, I won't do the problems with you," "I'm sorry for the trouble," or "The syllabus and timetable are not here, because Mr. Zhu was supposed to help me," but in the end she said nothing and turned to leave.

“Hey, I have a reading list and a course schedule here. Take them, look at them, and come back to me.” He quickly caught up with her. She looked at him; Fang Guochu, around thirty-four or thirty-five, looked very neat, but tired. He stuffed a stack of A4 papers into her hand, then returned to his office, his back to the door, typing on his typewriter without closing the door. Shujing glanced at the reading list in her hand and was suddenly startled. She turned around to find him, standing behind him and said, “Mr. Fang, I haven’t read Weber!” He frowned and said, “Sigh, why are you studying sociology? You should study home economics.” Shujing stared at him without moving, silent, only looking at him. Fang Guochu saw her eyes; they were truly bright, one black and one white, untouched by worldly concerns. Fang Guochu thought to himself, “Old Zhu has ulterior motives.” He said aloud, “I’ll teach you.”

Therefore, Shu Jing's working hours from then on were from nine in the morning to ten at night. Fang Guochu started with academic journals, then asked Shu Jing to read some introductory books, and then recommended classic works by masters. Shu Jing read until her eyes were blurry, biting her lip, but never uttered a word of complaint, just as when Shu Jing watched her parents divorce, she never cried out, never tried to persuade them, but just bit her lip and secretly applied to go to Taiwan to attend high school and university, only telling them before she left. Shu Jing never felt that complaining was useless, so she rarely spoke to Fang Guochu, only taking the reading list and handing him her reading reports. She had never read left-wing sociology before, but within a month, she read from Marx to the Frankfurt School, even Fang Guochu couldn't help but look at her with newfound respect. Shu Jing spoke the most when she was teaching her tutoring classes, but Fang Guochu didn't know that.

When Fang Guochu lectured, he was full of energy and enthusiasm. Shujing sat in the last row of chairs in the classroom, leaning back, just watching him. She thought he probably didn't even know it. At the end of the introduction, he talked at length about his experience capturing Ge Bai, his face beaming with excitement. Shujing thought that he must have been very handsome when he was young.

When get out of class ended, Shu Jing didn't move, only gently pressing her hand to her heart. A bird in her heart longed to be clipped. Fang Guochu saw her from afar. At that moment, a student named Zhou Zuer flashed before Shu Jing's eyes. He wore a blood-red leather tie, had honey-colored skin, and grinned at her. Shu Jing couldn't help but smile bitterly. This student never prepared for his tutorials, yet relied on his cleverness to monopolize all the class time. Shu Jing couldn't do anything about him. Zhou Zuer said, "Miss Cheng, thank you for your guidance. Would you like to have dinner with me?" Shu Jing lowered her head, thinking, "Yes," "No?" His tie was so blood-red, so intensely red that she couldn't help but ponder it.

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2 Huang Biyun -- A Romance in a Prosperous Era

Novel t xt Paradise

"My esteemed student, Miss Cheng has something to discuss with me. Please come again next time," Fang Guochu said from afar.

Zhou Zuer turned slightly and glanced at Fang Guochu, then said to Shu Jing, "I'll look for you again." She then picked up the large bag containing the squash rackets and walked into the sunlight.

The classroom door closed, and Shujing felt the room was very pale. Fang Guochu asked, "Where would you like to eat?" She just lowered her head and smiled.

He took her to an Italian restaurant in Central. Shujing sipped her white wine, and the two remained silent. He had probably already said everything he needed to say in class. Suddenly, he said, "Your white velvet dress is really pretty." Shujing looked up and smiled. He might be well-versed in Lenin and Trotsky, but he couldn't even distinguish between velvet and wool. Shujing said, "Your red leather tie is also very nice." Actually, he was wearing a gray-blue thread tie. Fang Guochu was taken aback for a moment before bursting into laughter.

As the semester ended, Shujing suddenly felt the Christmas break was too long. She didn't know if she missed Fang Guochu's homework or him. Time and again, she passed his office, unable to resist stopping, but he was nowhere to be seen. Therefore, Shujing emboldened herself and developed the habit of checking his office every day. Shujing would just look, leaning against the door, as if leaning against someone. Until one day she bumped into him.

Fang Guochu was actually much taller than her. He lowered his head and smiled, saying, "Why do you come every day? I saw you in the newspaper reading room across the street."

Shujing blushed deeply. He moved closer and said, "Since you're here, don't leave." Shujing realized that if she leaned forward slightly, she could walk into his arms. She took a step back. Fang Guochu still smiled broadly; he didn't press forward, because there was no need to.

He prepared afternoon tea for her. Fang Guochu's dormitory was an English-style building with large white wooden-framed French windows and wisteria climbing the walls. The sunlight was soft and gentle. Shujing knew that this was a British conspiracy: his living room was so clean and tidy, and there was a pair of brand-new embroidered silk slippers on the carpet. Shujing was shocked and regretted coming to his house for afternoon tea.

He only showed her some old photos, circling himself in red pen, and said to Shujing, "This is Fang Guochu. The most popular Trotskyist in Hong Kong in the 1970s. Look, doesn't it look like him?" Shujing wanted to say, "You look much older." But she didn't. She just reached out and touched his face. He took her hand, and she said, "May I have another cup of milk tea?" When he left, he kicked over his slippers. Shujing took off her shoes and rubbed her bare feet on the carpet, feeling hot and itchy. When he returned, she put on her pale yellow slippers embroidered with large pink brocade flowers. Shujing never drank the milk tea. When she got dressed and returned to the living room, the milk tea was cold. She shivered involuntarily, and Fang Guochu hugged her tightly. He had never imagined she could be such a passionate woman. There were so many fine teeth marks on his body...

Until the holiday ended, Fang Guochu didn't contact Shujing. He feared she was the old-fashioned type who would cling to him once they had a physical relationship, and since she would still be his student next semester, he couldn't afford such trouble. But he still gazed at her from the reading room every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of her tall, slender figure. He missed the cool, calm, watery feel of her body. She didn't appear, and Fang Guochu suddenly felt an intense desire for her.

When Fang Guochu saw Shujing again, he noticed she had cut her hair, making her eyes appear exceptionally clear. She called him, "Mr. Fang," then handed him a short paper without another word, before turning and leaving. She only glanced back at him once. If Fang Guochu were to love this woman's soul, he would surely fall in love with those gentle yet resolute eyes. But he hadn't made a decision yet, nor did he feel the need to make one for any woman.

There was no introductory course next semester, so Shu Jing would only come to see him once a week. He would give her a reading list, and she would give him a report. The two would exchange papers silently. Shu Jing's homework was very thorough, and her reading list even included works published in 1984, which forced Fang Guochu to catch up. He couldn't help but feel a little resentful, as he had been burdened with a heavy load for no reason, both at work and mentally.

Shujing came and went as if nothing had happened. Even Fang Guochu doubted whether he had touched her at all. One day, Shujing said she couldn't find the article from Stuart Hall, so Fang Guochu said, "Come to my house to get it." Shujing lowered her head and remained silent. Fang Guochu was unsure if he had touched her. He reached out to touch her shoulder. She dodged and said, "Could you please bring the book to your office next time?" Fang Guochu's hand remained outstretched, unsure of what to do, and he couldn't help but ask, "Why?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, but there was nothing he could do. Shujing just looked at him, her eyes gentle and reassuring. After a while, she slightly turned to the side and said, "Thank you," before closing the door and leaving.

He opened the door and chased after her, only to find her walking alongside a man with honey-colored skin carrying a tennis racket. Fang Guochu gritted his teeth; how could he not have her?

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3 Huang Biyun -- A Romance in a Prosperous Era

University, student, novel, web

Fang Guochu, determined to find her, went to her dormitory very early the next day, but she didn't answer the doorbell. Not wanting to linger in the student dormitory for fear of being recognized, he pretended to be someone else, wearing large sunglasses and reading a newspaper at the gate. Even in the dead of winter, Fang Guochu felt a growing fever. He wanted her, he wanted her cold body; only in this way could he calm his unease.

The sun had set, and the books were nowhere to be seen. Fang Guochu took off his glasses, feeling a pang of melancholy for the first time. He realized he had long forgotten what melancholy felt like… The last time was probably when he discovered his old friend Xiao Chao had gone to act in a comedy film and become famous… He felt a pang of melancholy then. Now, everything had calmed down; university was the easiest place to find peace… Fang Guochu put his sunglasses back on: what did waking up have to do with him?

At this moment, Shu Jing, dressed in a pink tracksuit and carrying a racket, walked out into the morning light with the male student. Fang Guochu could almost feel the slight sweat on Shu Jing's skin. He couldn't help but grit his teeth; neither of them had shed a single drop of sweat. She remained as cool as ever. But she was sweating while playing ball with that boy… Fang Guochu stood up, grabbed the boy, and punched him twice. The boy knocked Fang Guochu's sunglasses off with one hand and paused, stunned. Shu Jing stepped back and said coldly, "Zhou Zuer, you go back first." Zuer couldn't help but shout, "You're afraid of him just because he teaches? He's an empty-headed old man, doing nothing. Besides knowing a couple of words, what does he know?" Shu Jing said, word by word, "You go back first, do you hear me?" Zhou Zuer immediately deflated and said, "I'll find you again, okay?" Shu Jing said softly, "We'll see." But her eyes glanced at Fang Guochu with a lingering smile. Fang Guochu smiled.

Neither of them spoke in the car. Fang Guochu reached out and took Shujing's hand. Shujing struggled slightly, but Fang Guochu only tightened his grip. Shujing half-heartedly resisted, not looking at him, but feeling his presence all over her body. Shujing looked at the scenery outside the window, a little bewildered. He loved her, yet he didn't accept her; he loved her, yet he only saw her as a woman to be used in bed; he didn't love her, yet he sought her out. He drove so calmly. Did he love her or not? Had he thought about it? Shujing was just weak. At that moment, the car slammed on the brakes. It turned out that the small truck in front had collided with a taxi. For some reason, the truck's rear end was sticking up, facing Shujing, and its windshield was shattered. The driver was a young man in his twenties, slumped over the steering wheel, seemingly asleep, with a few drops of blood on his hair, the color extremely theatrical. Fang Guochu pressed the accelerator and said, "Damn it, I wonder how long I'll be stuck here." Shujing couldn't help but look at him with newfound respect. The young man struggled for a moment, then lay down again, revealing his skeletal hand, which appeared remarkably clean in the sunlight. The traffic jam was silent; the police hadn't arrived, and everyone was calm, circling the skeleton, waiting for something. Fang Guochu gripped Shujing's hand tightly. Shujing leaned against the car window, which was cold and lifeless. She couldn't help but exhale, causing the window to fog up, as if to prove she was alive. After a while, Fang Guochu said, "The fire department said all paramedics would arrive at the scene within twelve minutes—that's the biggest lie in the world." Shujing couldn't help but stare at the skeleton. She thought she was having a bright nightmare. Before the skeleton could disappear, why should it be allowed to remain arrogant? Fang Guochu suddenly said, "No, that's just the third biggest lie." Life is so short, encounters so rare. All the thoughts, all the entanglements, before these bones, are but lies. Fang Guochu said, "The second biggest lie is: I love you. I only love you." Whether it's a lie or not doesn't matter. What isn't a mirage? Before bones, perhaps even the most stubborn would willingly be deceived. Fang Guochu turned around, one hand resting on the steering wheel, and smiled, "Do you want to hear the world's biggest lie?" Shu Jing kept looking at the skeletal hand, resting on the steering wheel; she didn't care about anything anymore. Fang Guochu said, "Will you marry me?" Shu Jing gently held her own hand, feeling that blood and flesh—nothing more than flesh and blood. Perhaps that's how it is. Marriage. What does it matter? This body is nothing but flesh and blood. She said, "Okay." She never turned to look at him.

They held a very simple wedding ceremony. Shujing only sent a card to his parents; she didn't even write a return address. Fang Guochu's family was all on the mainland, except for one older brother who, unfortunately, hadn't received his doctorate after eight years of studying in the US. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Shujing met Fang Guochu's so-called comrades-in-arms. They were involved in the Chinese language movement and the Diaoyu Islands movement. One, a PhD in Chinese literature named Xiao Gao, taught elementary school; his belly was so bloated that three students couldn't encircle him. Another, who ran a pornographic magazine, was named Li Da, equally obese with lecherous eyes. Xiao Chao, the movie actor Fang Guochu mentioned, also came; his hair was extremely disheveled, and his shirt was too tight, revealing hair on his navel. One owned a bookstore; his suits were outdated, and his shirt collar was slightly torn. The last one was a leader of a pressure group, and he was the loudest. After some commotion, they sang a handshake. Li Da was the winner; Xiao Chao couldn't help but want to curse his mother, while Xiao Gao, feeling hot, decided to liberate his belly and let it see the light of day again. Fang Guochu sang with a flushed face, probably from a big bet; he wasn't as noisy as the others, just focused intently. Shujing stayed far away from them, leaning against the screen, dressed in plain white; she suddenly felt that funerals and weddings were actually quite similar, both being a kind of desperate festivities.

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4. Huang Biyun – A Romance in a Prosperous Era

! Novel @txt$Heaven &

The night was still and quiet. Fang Guochu was completely drunk. Shujing washed her hair and took a shower, then changed into a sheer cotton nightgown with lotus patterns. Leaning against the bed, she didn't want to sleep or wake up. As the moon sank and the stars faded, the night deepened. Fang Guochu turned over, regaining some consciousness, and ripped open Shujing's nightgown. He didn't even have time to undress her. Shujing remained motionless, and in just a few moments, Fang Guochu had ejaculated. Shujing's hands and feet ached terribly; she wished she could end her own body. At this moment, dawn was breaking, and birds could be heard outside the window. Shujing smiled bitterly and said, "Marx said marriage is institutionalized prostitution. He was right after all." Fang Guochu turned over and let out a soft snore. Shujing tidied her bedding and went to sleep in the guest room. He didn't know. Perhaps he did know, but he didn't care. Shujing was filled with bitterness. She drew the curtains tightly shut. It was already dawn outside, but she didn't want to know.

The next morning, Shujing woke up, still disoriented. There was a breakfast plate beside her bed, and a large bouquet of lilies in a crystal water bottle. Shujing held a lily, eating the petals one by one; the flower was beautiful, but its taste was extremely bitter. Fang Guochu must have heard the noise. He knocked on the door first. Before Shujing could answer, he pushed the door open and came in. Seeing Shujing like this, he simply hugged her. Shujing's body went limp, and she almost burst into tears. Fang Guochu said, "I'm sorry." Shujing gritted her teeth, her face still bright and beautiful, and said, "It's my duty as a wife." Fang Guochu buried his head in Shujing's chest. Shujing hesitated for a moment before reaching out to stroke his head, noticing his many gray hairs and the many worries of his life. Why endure such hardship together?

Shu Jing treated him with utmost politeness, calling him "Mr. Fang," kissing his forehead at night, saying "Goodnight," and then locking the guest room door. She never forgave him. Fang Guochu bought her jewelry, clothes, and flowers, which she gladly accepted, saying "Thank you," and kissing his cheek; but she always locked the guest room door. Fang Guochu couldn't help but feel agitated. After class, he would go to the cafeteria, drink a large bottle of beer, buy a box of char siu, return home flushed, and fall asleep immediately. Shu Jing still maintained her habit of working at the library until 11 pm every day, but she no longer corrected his homework. Sometimes Fang Guochu would wake up in the middle of the night and find Shu Jing's room tightly shut and pitch black. He would watch TV, eat char siu, and drink another bottle of beer—he still didn't understand why he had gotten married. Moreover, he realized that he had married the most troublesome and meticulous woman.

In the darkness, Shujing could hear every sound from the living room: his yawns, his snoring. Several times, Shujing wanted to go out and see him, but she always restrained herself: he had never loved her, so she would let him not have her. Until one night, Shujing noticed Fang Guochu was no longer sleeping in the living room, so she went to his bedroom to look for him. But he was sleeping soundly; he didn't even know she was there. The next morning, she got up to work while he was still asleep; perhaps her presence or absence no longer mattered to him. Shujing felt only a chill in her heart. So be it; even married couples are like this. Fang Guochu loved to sleep, the real kind of sleep: sleeping soundly with his head covered. Shujing realized that even husband and wife sharing a bed could be devoid of love and affection.

From then on, Fang Guochu and Cheng Shujing became husband and wife. Fang Guochu still liked to sleep, and Shujing still got up early to work. Sometimes they made love, sometimes they didn't. Shujing was never talkative, and now she had nothing to say to her. After a month, Fang Guochu found life boring and gradually started to gain weight. It was true, he had obtained his doctorate, secured a teaching position, and passed his three-year probationary period of relentless research. Now… he was even married, and Fang Guochu was utterly bored. The only thing he could do was gain weight and drink a large bottle of beer after class. Fang Guochu thought that perhaps he should have a son, but that wasn't his responsibility.

Shujing was taking birth control pills. She was already thin, and somehow, the more pills she took, the thinner she became. One day, Shujing sat alone in the cafeteria at dusk, staring at the small pills. She didn't understand why she had to get married, especially since she had this extra trouble compared to Fang Guochu. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the cafeteria, a group of students shouting about tea and coffee. Shujing frowned and was startled to see Zhou Zuer among them. He hadn't contacted her since her marriage. After so long, he had become even more handsome, wearing a loose-fitting jersey, one shoulder bare in the early spring air. Shujing realized she hadn't exercised in a long time: Fang Guochu was exactly the kind of person who stopped exercising, both mentally and physically. Shujing suddenly understood and unconsciously lowered her head.

"Cheng Shujing, long time no see. You've lost so much weight. Everyone gets fat after marriage, but you're the only one who likes to be thin." Zhou Zuer leaned against the table, turning her head to look at Shujing. Shujing blushed and clutched her pills tightly. "It's alright, you're still beautiful." Zhou Zuer moved closer, and Shujing saw her half-exposed shoulder: "So thin, like a chicken." Shujing couldn't help but laugh.