Fang Zichen's tone had been off from the start, sounding displeased.
Zhao Ger pinched the remaining half of the sweet potato and stayed silent.
Fang Zichen had a soft heart and cared deeply for others. Zhao Ger wasn’t foolish, he knew Fang Zichen was upset that he was working himself to the bone. Just last night, Fang Zichen had comforted him with kind words. But the family didn’t have much to eat, and Fang Zichen was picky, he couldn’t stomach wild herb porridge. Sweet potatoes tasted better, so Zhao Ger had thought to bring some back after helping out. He hadn’t expected to make Fang Zichen unhappy.
"Why aren’t you saying anything?"
Hesitantly, he mumbled, "Aunt He said if I worked more, she’d give me a few extra."
But Aunt He’s original words had been more than that.
She had meant for Zhao Ger to finish digging this entire field by noon.
This wasn’t Zhao Ger’s first time working for her family. They’d agreed on three copper coins a day, but she wanted him in her fields before dawn and wouldn’t let him leave until the moon was high.
Her skill in exploitation was top-notch.
Hearing this, Fang Zichen almost laughed out loud.
Were sweet potatoes so precious these days that they were worth working oneself to death for?
"Take a break. I’ll help you later," Fang Zichen said. "That Aunt He or whatever her name is, she’s no decent person, squeezing people dry like this. Back when I had money, I’d have fed her a slap for sure."
Outside, the heat was unbearable. Even under the shade of a tree, sweat poured out like it was free. Truthfully, Fang Zichen wanted to drag Zhao Ger back right now. But since they’d already worked all morning and half the sweet potatoes were dug up, leaving now would mean all that effort was for nothing - just free labor for Aunt He.
No way!
Absolutely not going back.
He’d rather die under the sun than let those sweet potatoes go to waste.
After resting for half an hour, Fang Zichen hoisted the hoe and returned to the field.
Aunt He had already cut away the sweet potato vines, leaving the cracked earth bare.
Fang Zichen had never done farm work before. Holding the hoe, he had no idea where to start.
But he was a quick learner. He called Zhao Ger over to demonstrate a few swings. After watching twice, he was convinced he’d mastered the skill.
"I’ll take over. You go rest," he said.
"You got it?" Zhao Ger asked doubtfully.
"Of course!" Fang Zichen declared confidently. "It’s not like it’s some high-skill job. Easy as pie."
Zhao Ger watched his assured expression and said, "Just don’t split the sweet potatoes—"
Fang Zichen swung the hoe down, and impaled three sweet potatoes clean through.
Fang Zichen: "……"
Well, some things really did require expertise.
After working for barely five minutes, under Zhao Ger's increasingly anxious and indescribable gaze, Fang Zichen sheepishly handed the hoe back: "……This kind of technical work is better left to professionals like you. I’ll assist from the side."
"Go rest," Zhao Ger said, glancing at Fang Zichen’s sunburned face before pursing his lips. "If I work fast, I can finish before dark."
Looking at the half-basket of mangled sweet potatoes and recalling Zhao Ger’s "you talked so big but you’re this bad?" expression, Fang Zichen—whether from the sun or sheer embarrassment, felt his face burn. "You dig, I’ll gather. Hurry up, don’t stare at me. I know I’m handsome."
He tried to salvage his pride, but his voice wavered. Zhao Ger’s lips twitched, but he said nothing, just gave a quiet "Oh" and went back to digging.
Aunt He had taken the baskets home, so Fang Zichen piled the sweet potatoes on the ground. Guaizai ran over, offering to help. Fang Zichen pinched his cheek, his own throat parched and burning: "No need. Even I can’t take this heat. If you shrivel up in the sun, who’s gonna take care of me when I’m old? Be good, go wait under the tree. When I’m done, I’ll take you to catch bugs for your frogs."
Guaizai pouted: "I can work!"
"Yeah, yeah," Fang Zichen brushed him off. "Look—" He picked up a large sweet potato. "This thing’s as big as your head. Go take a nap under the tree. Try to wake up bigger than it."
Guaizai stared at the sweet potato, unmoving. Fang Zichen coaxed: "As a man, do you know which two things must never be small?"
Guaizai touched his head: "Dunno."
Fang Zichen smirked and raised a brow: "Your head and your little brother, of course."
"What?" Guaizai tilted his head, confused.
"That little bird between your legs that hasn’t even grown feathers yet," Fang Zichen said.
What—
Guaizai’s eyes widened. He yanked down his pants—only to find nothing inside. "…Father," he said, face falling in disappointment. "No bird!"
Fang Zichen: "Hahahaha, how can there not be? Without it, you’d be a eunuch! Hahaha—"
Zhao Ger held back, then finally couldn’t resist cutting in: "Stop teaching him nonsense."
Fang Zichen denied the accusation: "How is this nonsense? I’m teaching him about family matters. This is men’s business, don’t interfere if you don’t understand. It’s slanderous."
"Come here," Fang Zichen beckoned Guaizai closer, tugged his pants, and flicked his little thing. "See? This is your little bird. It’s a man’s pride, protect it well. It’ll be useful later, got it?"
Zhao Ger: "……"
"Mm!" Guaizai didn’t understand, but that didn’t stop him from nodding.
Fang Zichen studied his obedient face, thin and sallow but still strikingly handsome. Remembering how "gers" here looked just like men, he added: "Don’t let anyone yank your pants down. If they try, call them a pervert."
Guaizai: "What’s a pervert?"
Fang Zichen: "A bad person who gropes others’ butts for fun."
Guaizai frowned and mumbled: "Father and Daddy aren’t perverts."
Fang Zichen immediately agreed: "Of course I’m not!" He grinned at Zhao Ger, who met his gaze with an innocent, round face. The longer Fang Zichen looked, the more a mischievous urge grew in him. Tossing a sweet potato in his hand, he raised a brow and said in a deliberately provoking tone: "But whether your Daddy is one..well, that I can’t say."
Zhao Ger: "……"
Maybe it was exhaustion, or Fang Zichen’s dazzling smile under the sun, or the brief time they’d spent together giving Zhao Ger courage—before he knew it, his hand had already hurled a dirt clod the size of his fist through the air.
Fang Zichen: "……"
Fang Zichen froze.
This ruthless?!
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