Amor floreciente

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didn't know if it was the gentle autumn colors, his slightly hunched back, or the worn-out smell emanating from the outdated hardcover books on his office bookshelf, but she remembered it as an autumn afternoon and couldn't forget it.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

……