He Xi, standing nearby, couldn’t take it anymore. Young and hot-headed, he burst out: "If you're so bold to show off your power here, why don’t you go talk to Fang Zichen yourselves?"
Ma Dazhuang had lost face badly the last time he confronted Fang Zichen. Hearing this now, he slammed the table. "What did you just say? Say it again if you dare! Who do you think you are, interrupting your elders? No manners at all!"
He Xi’s face flushed with anger. "I have manners! Unlike some people!"
That was like poking a hornet’s nest.
Seeing the three Ma brothers' face blackened, stood up as if ready to fight, Wang Damei smacked He Xi. "What nonsense are you spouting? Go tend the kitchen fire!"
Once the rush of anger faded, He Xi felt a twinge of fear. Taking the out Wang Damei offered, he scurried off like a rat.
Being the elder, and since they were asking for a favor, Ma Laosan held Ma Dazhuang back and spoke more politely: "Village Chief, we regret our actions now. But since we’ve made an enemy of Fang Zichen, it’s awkward for us to approach him. For the sake of the village, please go talk to him for us."
The village chief knew that if he didn’t agree, the Ma brothers would keep making trouble. "Fine, I’ll go. But whether it works or not isn’t my problem."
How could it not work?
Fang Zichen had never wanted Zhao Ger as his fulang—they'd cornered him into it, and he’d only agreed out of pity.
Who would want Zhao Ger now that he was "tainted"?
Three taels of silver could buy a young and clean bride. Wouldn’t a clean girl be better than Zhao Ger?
And Zhao ger still had a son. If it were a daughter or a ger, at least they could marry her off later for a dowry. But a boy, nothing but a money pit.
Ma Laosan thought it over and decided the matter was as good as settled.
Wang Damei ushered them out. Before Ma Laosan's trailing foot had fully crossed the doorstep, the door crashed shut with a thunderous bang—as if they couldn’t wait to be rid of the plague carriers.
In a good mood, Ma Laosan didn’t bother cursing them.
Once they were gone, Wang Damei turned to the village chief. "Don’t you dare do this wicked thing!"
The Ma family was a pit of fire. If the village chief really spoke up for them, she wouldn’t be able to face Zhao Ger in the village again.
"Don’t worry, I know better," the village chief said, rummaging around the house. "Where did you put the umbrella?"
Wang Damei stood firm. "If you know better, why are you looking for an umbrella? Is he your father or something? Are you really going?"
"Don’t be ridiculous," the village chief said, still searching. "Where’s the umbrella? Help me find it." He explained, "I’m just going to warn Fang Zichen, see what he thinks."
Relieved, Wang Damei went to fetch the umbrella from another room. The village chief only cared about the fields—household matters were beneath him. He wouldn’t know where anything was kept.
"Grab a chicken from the backyard too," the village chief called after her. "I’ll take it to Fang Zichen later."
Wang Damei paused, her heart aching at the loss, but she didn’t argue.
A life-saving grace deserved repayment—even if it was just a chicken.
When the village chief arrived, Fang Zichen’s family had already moved from the kitchen to the main room. Surprised to see him out in the rain, Fang Zichen greeted him.
Zhao Ger hurried to the kitchen to fetch a stool, and the village chief nodded, handing him the chicken.
In these times, chickens were valuable. People usually didn’t bring gifts when visiting—only during festivals would they exchange vegetables or a few eggs.
Vegetables came from their own plots, eggs from their own hens. None of it cost much.
Zhao Ger hesitated to accept it, glancing at Fang Zichen for guidance.
In the past, a chicken would have meant nothing to Fang Zichen. But after nearly a month in Xiaohe Village, he’d learned just how precious such things were.
This chicken might as well have been solid silver - accepting such generosity without proper cause sat like a stone in Fang Zichen's conscience.
"Uncle, please take it back. It’s too much."
"Nonsense. If I give it to you, take it," the village chief said, shoving the chicken into Zhao Ger’s arms. He patted Guaizai’s head. "Keep it for eggs, this little one needs more meat on his bones. Look how thin his face is."
Fang Zichen rubbed his nose, suddenly feeling guilty.
That sounded like an accusation of child neglect.
But honestly, while their meals had been simple lately (nothing like his old lifestyle), compared to the villagers’ daily fare of bitter wild greens and watery porridge, they were eating like kings.
Guaizai was just naturally frail. No amount of plain noodles could fatten him up.
Zhao Ger stood frozen, still uneasy about accepting the chicken. The village chief said, "Your man saved my father's life. That's a debt we can never repay. A chicken is nothing. Just take it."
Only when Fang Zichen nodded did Zhao Ger finally murmur his thanks and carry the chicken to the backyard.
The village chief watched him go, then sighed as he looked at Guaizai sitting on Fang Zichen’s lap.
"Fang Zichen, the Ma brothers came to see me earlier."
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