Chapter 24
Guaizai and Liuliu were facing the newcomer. Liuliu might not have remembered this person well, but Guaizai clearly did.
He immediately dropped the firewood and darted behind Zhao Ger in a flash.
Zhao Ger had already furrowed his brows when he heard the voice. He turned to look at the newcomer.
Ma Wen looked travel-worn, with a bundle hanging from his arm. He must have just returned and hadn’t even made it home yet.
"Do you need something?" Zhao Ger asked.
His tone was too indifferent, making Ma Wen frown, but he quickly brushed it off.
Zhao Ger had always been like this with him.
"Zhao Ger, I’m back."
He lifted the pastries in his hand, speaking in a somewhat ingratiating tone: "I bought these for you. The shopkeeper said these are the most popular among ger. Let’s go home!" Then, he turned to Guaizai, who was hiding behind Zhao Ger: "Guaizai, do you still remember your father?"
Zhao Ger’s face darkened instantly, but before he could speak, Guaizai shouted first.
"You’re not my father! My father went to carry sacks and will be back tonight!"
Liuliu chimed in: "Yeah, you’re not Guaizai’s father! Uncle Fang is!"
The smile on Ma Wen’s face faded slightly as he stared at Zhao Ger.
He realized that after half a year apart, Zhao Ger had changed. Not only was he wearing well-fitted new clothes that suited his complexion, but his face was also rosy, and he had gained some weight. Most importantly… he could smile now.
In Ma Wen’s memory, the grown-up Zhao Ger hardly ever showed any expression. Even when scolded or beaten by his family, he would remain indifferent, like a block of wood.
From a distance, Ma Wen had heard their laughter and seen Zhao Ger’s bright smile. For a moment, he hadn’t even recognized him.
When Zhao Ger was younger, he would cry if beaten badly. But as he grew up, he stopped crying—let alone smiling.
Still, Ma Wen had always liked Zhao Ger—his big eyes and sweet face.
That smile just now had been especially beautiful, his eyes curved like clear crescent moons reflected in water.
Forcing himself to maintain his smile, Ma Wen asked in confusion: "What do they mean?"
Zhao Ger stared at him, his eyes dark and clear: "I’ve already been sold by Ma Dazhuang."
"Wh—what?!"
Zhao Ger’s tone was calm, his voice quiet, but to Ma Wen, those words rang like thunder in his ears.
"That’s impossible," he strode forward and grabbed Zhao Ger’s wrist. "That can’t be. Zhao Ger, don’t joke like this with me."
Zhao Ger tried to pull his hand back but couldn’t break free. "Let go."
"Zhao Ger!"
"I said let go!" Zhao Ger shoved him, and Ma Wen staggered back two steps.
"If you don’t believe me, go ask your parents. I’m not lying. They sold me for three taels of silver."
"That’s impossible! Before I left, I told them I liked you, that we’d get married when I came back. They agreed! How could they sell you?" Ma Wen’s voice trailed off as he spoke.
Zhao Ger was looking at him, his expression deadly serious—this wasn’t a joke. And besides… this was exactly the kind of thing his parents would do.
They had never liked Zhao Ger. They’d have been happy if he died. There was no way they’d easily agree to let him marry Zhao Ger.
They must have only pretended to agree back then to ease his mind before his trip.
Ma Wen forced himself to calm down. He took a few deep breaths before asking Zhao Ger: "Who did they sell you to?"
If Zhao Ger was still in the village, he could buy him back.
"Fang Zichen," Zhao Ger said.
"Fang Zichen? A newcomer?"
"Yes."
Ma Wen wiped his face and held out the pastries again. "Zhao Ger, wait for me. I’ll—"
"No need," Zhao Ger cut him off coldly. "I’m doing fine now. I don’t want to go back."
"I don’t want the pastries either. Take them away."
Zhao Ger shouldered the firewood and left with the two children.
After walking some distance, Guaizai glanced back and whispered: "Daddy, he’s still following us."
"Yeah. Don’t mind him. Let’s just hurry home."
Guaizai was listless after returning home and barely touched his lunch. Zhao Ger put both children down for a nap, but while Liuliu fell asleep quickly, Guaizai kept tossing and turning, making the bed creak.
Zhao Ger carried him out and into the kitchen. "What’s wrong? Are you unhappy?"
"Yeah," Guaizai sat on a small stool, head bowed as he twisted his clothes nervously. "I don’t like him."
To Guaizai, Ma Wen was just "him."
Zhao Ger crouched in front of him. "Why?"
"He doesn’t like me," Guaizai’s eyes welled up with tears. Ma Wen had never hit or scolded him—he had simply ignored him at first.
Ma Wen had been disgusted and furious when Zhao Ger got pregnant. He had tried to force Zhao Ger to abort the child, even brewing medicine for it. But Zhao Ger had fought back desperately, refusing to drink it. He knocked the bowl away, his eyes red as he glared at Ma Wen and said only one thing: "If the child is gone, I’ll fight you to the death."
After Guaizai was born, Ma Wen couldn’t hide the disdain and disgust in his eyes whenever he looked at him. Even as a toddler, Guaizai could sense it.
Over time, since Zhao Ger fiercely protected Guaizai, Ma Wen had forced himself to accept the child. He even wondered—if he could win Guaizai over, make the boy like him, would Zhao Ger accept him for the child’s sake?
With this plan in mind, he tried to get close to Guaizai. When Zhao Ger wasn’t around, he’d offer Guaizai candy, coaxing him to call him "Father." But Guaizai stubbornly refused. Eventually, the boy started hiding whenever he saw Ma Wen.
"I don’t like him either," Guaizai wiped his tears and said defiantly. "Daddy likes me, and Father likes me. I won’t call him Father."
Deep down, all children yearn to be liked. Even if the person isn’t someone close, being disliked for no reason would unsettle even an adult—let alone a child.
Zhao Ger sighed. "Then why are you crying?"
"But… but he’s my real father."
At that, Zhao Ger’s gaze turned icy. "Who told you he’s your real father?"
"Grandma He and the others all say so," Guaizai lifted his head, tears clinging to his lashes. "Daddy… is he really my father?"
"No. He’s not your father. Don’t you remember? When you asked me before, I told you—the person I told you to call ‘Father’ is your father. In this lifetime, you only have one father. It’s not Ma Wen, and it’s not anyone else. It’s Fang Zichen. Only him. Do you understand?"
"I understand," Guaizai sniffled, then timidly tugged Zhao Ger’s sleeve. "Daddy, don’t be angry."
"I’m not angry," Zhao Ger picked him up and kissed his little hand. "You can always tell me when you’re unhappy. I’ll help you. Don’t keep it inside. As long as you’re obedient, I’ll never be angry with you."
Guaizai wrapped his arms around Zhao Ger’s neck, pressing close to his ear to whisper: "Guaizai will be good. Guaizai will listen."
Zhao Ger ruffled his hair. "Yes, our Guaizai is the best."
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