Mengzi's weather was naturally much better than Beijing's, though only by so much. As it warmed up, Mengzi had already left winter behind, but the rains had begun again—gloomy, damp, and chilling, enough to make anyone feel miserable.
Wang Yan returned with another pile of Jingcheng specialties. As usual, he first reported to the political commissar and made arrangements for the upcoming performances. Then he found Liu Feng, brought him plenty of food and drink, told him to come over for dinner that evening, and ignored Liu Feng's desperate impatience as he went off to freshen up.
Needless to say, Wang Yan did the cooking at Liu Feng's house too. Neither Liu Feng nor He Xiaoping was any good at cooking.
After bustling about for a while, they finally sat down to eat. Liu Feng eagerly poured Wang Yan a drink, while He Xiaoping sat there blankly with her belly protruding. Both husband and wife watched Wang Yan expectantly.
"It's taken care of."
Wang Yan took a sip of wine and finally said what they had been waiting to hear. Seeing the couple let out long breaths of relief, he smiled. "She'll enroll next September. By then, the child will be a year old and ready to be weaned. We'll discuss the details when the time comes. Liu Feng might be transferred to Jingcheng too. This deed is the property certificate—a two-courtyard house in South Gongs and Drums Alley. You two had better save up. You owe me thirty-five hundred."
As he spoke, he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and slapped it onto the table.
Liu Feng grinned, took it and glanced at it, then casually handed it to He Xiaoping beside him. "You too. You went off for a whole month without even sending a telegram.