Chapter 10: Nightmare
As dusk fell, they finally finished digging up the sweet potatoes.
Aunt He sorted through the half-basket of sweet potatoes that Fang Zichen had damaged earlier that day, picking out a few "misshapen and ugly ones" and handing them to Zhao Ger: "These are for you."
Zhao Ger accepted them with both hands and said thank you.
Aunt He wore an expression of someone bestowing charity, while Zhao Ger acted as though he should be endlessly grateful.
Fang Zichen frowned at the sight. The exhaustion from the day’s labor made his whole body ache, intensifying his discomfort.
Aunt He was pleased with Zhao Ger’s attitude. "I still have a plot of land on the southern slope. If you have time tomorrow, you could—"
Fang Zichen cut her off coldly: "No time. From now on, dig your own sweet potatoes."
"Ah! This, this—"
"Aunt He," Fang Zichen locked eyes with her and asked quietly, "Are your father aware of your generosity?"
Aunt He: "..."
Her expression turned awkward. "Taxes were heavy this year, and we had to pay a lot of silver. The harvest wasn’t good either. How about I give you a few more? I just wanted to help Zhao Ger."
Fang Zichen replied, "No need. If the harvest is bad, then Zhao Ger definitely shouldn’t help you. Otherwise, giving away a few more sweet potatoes might starve your whole family to death."
Aunt He flushed with embarrassment.
"Guaizai," Fang Zichen called to the boy picking wild vegetables by the field ridge. "Let’s go home."
On the way back, Zhao Ger stole glances at him.
Fang Zichen walked leisurely, his posture straight. After a day of labor, his face, neck, and the back of his hands—exposed to the sun—were slightly reddened. A mosquito had also left a small red bump on his cheek.
"What are you looking at?" he suddenly asked.
Caught off guard, Zhao Ger quickly averted his gaze. "N-nothing."
"Let’s go to town tomorrow. I want to find work," Fang Zichen said.
"But," Zhao Ger bit his lip, "jobs in town are hard to come by."
Fang Zichen sighed, a rare occurrence, his expression sour. "Hard or not, I have to try. I don’t want to eat wild vegetables every day, or just sweet potatoes."
Zhao Ger’s steps faltered. His hands, holding the sweet potatoes, clenched slightly... Fang Zichen looked down on the best he could offer, the fruits of his sweat and toil.
At that moment, the sweet potatoes in his hands seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, pressing down on him until he could barely breathe.
He watched as Fang Zichen walked ahead, quickly putting distance between them. Fang Zichen was still moving slowly, his figure shrouded in the dimming light.
Once again, Zhao Ger was trapped in a suffocating sense of helplessness.
He had felt this way countless times before.
When that person disappeared, and no matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t find him. When he was pregnant, lying alone on damp straw in a broken shed, biting down on a stick as he gave birth to Guaizai. When Guaizai cried from hunger or cold. When Guaizai was sick, he knelt at the doctor’s doorstep, only to be chased away with a stick.
That deep, inescapable helplessness clung to him no matter how hard he tried to shake it off. No matter how much he struggled, nothing ever changed.
He was terrified that because he had nothing to offer Fang Zichen, Fang Zichen would grow tired of this life and leave him too.
Fang Zichen, holding Guaizai’s hand, walked ahead. When he turned back, he saw Zhao Ger standing still, head bowed, staring at his toes.
"Did you step in shit? Or is there gold on the ground?" he asked.
Zhao Ger looked up, answering a different question entirely. "You... don’t like sweet potatoes?"
His voice carried unmistakable disappointment. Fang Zichen studied him silently before finally saying, "I do. But you and Guaizai can’t live on just sweet potatoes every day." He scowled, looking genuinely irritated. "That stingy Aunt He, I refuse to let you help her again. I’ll find work in town, earn some silver, and buy meat for you and Guaizai. That’s way better than sweet potatoes."
Zhao Ger’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly as he froze in place.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Fang Zichen beat him to it. "Are you touched?"
Zhao Ger had received so little kindness in his life that even empty words—unproven, possibly insincere—made his heart tremble. He nodded honestly. "Yes."
"It’s nothing, really," Fang Zichen grinned, pushing his bangs back. "What can I say? I’m one in a million—a truly exceptional man. Your ancestors must’ve set the family grave on fire to land someone like me as your... brother."
[Ancestral graves emitting blue smoke, meaning incredibly lucky. Here FZC says ancestral graves on fire to exaggerate how ‘lucky’ Zhao Ger is to have him]
Zhao Ger stiffened, his face draining of color.
Brother?
That word cut deeper than any insult ever hurled at him.
Fang Zichen noticed Zhao Ger had gone silent again, his eyes slowly reddening. His brow furrowed instinctively.
In the end, Zhao Ger was the one to speak first. "It’s getting dark. Let’s go home."
Fang Zichen exhaled, inexplicably relieved. "...Alright."
Back home, Zhao Ger busied himself again, his expression normal as if the incident on the road had already been forgotten. Fang Zichen watched him for a long moment before finally relaxing.
But by midnight, something was clearly wrong.
Zhao Ger seemed to be having a nightmare, muttering and thrashing in his sleep.
The commotion was loud enough to wake both Guaizai and Fang Zichen.
Sweat beaded on Zhao Ger’s forehead as he cried out and struggled, trapped in some delirium. Fang Zichen was startled, but Guaizai acted as though this were familiar—wiping Zhao Ger’s sweat with his sleeve before shaking him. "Daddy, Daddy, wake up~"
"Is your dad having a nightmare?" Fang Zichen asked.
Guaizai nodded. "Mhm!"
Zhao Ger remained lost in the dream, still pleading, "Don’t go... please don’t..." Fang Zichen heard him repeat these words over and over, arms flailing as if trying to grasp something.
Normally, calling his name a few times would wake him, but now nothing worked. Guaizai’s eyes reddened with panic as he turned to Fang Zichen, silently pleading for help.
No comments:
Post a Comment