Chapter 31
Seeing him enter, Zhao Ger, sitting by the stove, asked, "Has Guaizai fallen asleep?"
"En!" Fang Zichen seemed somewhat distracted.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing, just thinking about how to teach that Ma Xiaoshun (孝 (xiào): filial piety; 顺 (shùn): obedient) a lesson and vent my anger for my son!" Fang Zichen said resentfully.
"It's Ma Xiaoshun (小 (xiǎo): little; 顺 (shùn): obedient) Zhao Ger corrected him.
Fang Zichen scoffed, "Whatever his name is—Xiaoshun or whatever—since he bullied my son, he’s now called ‘Turtle.’"
[王八 (wáng bā): lit. turtle; fig. insult meaning "bastard" or "son of a turtle" (implies illegitimate birth)]
"Let it go. It’s just a kids' quarrel. You can’t just barge into Ma Xiaoshun’s house and beat him up like you did with Liu Laizi," Zhao Ger said.
"What kind of person do you take me for?" Fang Zichen retorted. "I’m a civilized man, kind-hearted and conscientious. I never lay a hand on the weak, elderly, women, or children."
Zhao Ger looked at him skeptically, as if unconvinced.
Fang Zichen thought about it—he had been getting into fights rather frequently lately, so he explained, "The Ma family deserved it. And Liu Laizi... well, I felt he deserved it too."
Zhao Ger lowered his head and said softly, "When I went out today, I heard some aunties saying you went too far."
Fang Zichen frowned. "How so?"
"They said Liu Laizi didn’t actually do anything to me, yet you beat him up so badly."
Fang Zichen almost laughed in anger.
"Oh, so I should only beat him up after he does something to you? If I don’t deal with him now, what if one day when I’m not around, he takes advantage of you? If you lost your chastity, would the villagers care whether you were innocent or not? Remember last time when you fell into the river, you were clearly... ahem, not fully conscious when I kissed you, but did they care? They just clamored to drown you in a pig cage. Liu Laizi, being a man, would at most get a few beatings. In the end, men always get off easy. I was just preventing trouble. He got what he deserved."
"Then... do you regret marrying me?" Zhao Ger suddenly asked.
Fang Zichen’s face turned bright red. "Why are you asking that all of a sudden?"
Zhao Ger kept looking at him.
This man’s face was strikingly handsome, with an untamed charm, still carrying the youthful air of a teenager. He usually smiled brightly, exuding warmth, but when he fought, he had a roguish, dangerous edge.
Zhao Ger said, "I just want to know."
Fang Zichen’s gaze wavered.
They had only known each other for just over a month, but Zhao Ger was so attentive and gentle—so irresistibly sweet—like a spider weaving its web, ensnaring anyone who got too close, leaving them unable to escape.
His big, obedient eyes stared at him now, his face flushed... It was unbearable!
Fang Zichen swallowed hard and shook his head. "No regrets."
"Then—"
"Ah, stop asking!" Fang Zichen abruptly stood up, his ears burning red. "I already call you fulang, what’s there to regret?"
Zhao Ger watched as he hurriedly muttered, "I’m going to check on our son," and dashed out, unable to suppress a soft laugh.
Fang Zichen went back to the room and saw Guaizai still sleeping, a light sweat on his forehead. He gently wiped it away. Guaizai’s lips moved slightly, his eyes half-lidded in drowsiness. Recognizing him, he immediately called out, "Father~"
Fang Zichen couldn’t resist kissing his little cheek. "Sleep a bit longer."
He found a pouch in the room, took out twenty copper coins, and headed to the village chief’s house. He deliberately took a detour—one that passed by the Ma family’s doorstep.
Ma Erzhu, knowing his son had beaten Guaizai, was so terrified he nearly wet himself. He had hidden Ma Xiaoshun inside and was squatting by the door, keeping watch.
When he spotted Fang Zichen approaching from afar, he panicked and rushed into the courtyard, slamming the gate shut.
"Husband," Li Shi’s legs trembled. "Is Fang Zichen here?"
Ma Erzhu nodded. "En!"
Ma Laosan glared at them. "Last time, I told you not to provoke him, not to provoke him! If your son has a death wish, don’t drag us into it!"
"Third Brother, that’s not fair!" Ma Erzhu said indignantly. "My Xiaoshun is just a child, what does he know?"
"Well, I’m staying out of it," Ma Laosan said, retreating into his room. "Your son caused this mess. If Fang Zichen wants to beat him, let him. Just don’t involve us."
Ma Erzhu looked at Ma Dazhuang, who remained silent, tacitly agreeing.
"Eldest Brother," Ma Erzhu pleaded, "Xiaoshun calls you Eldest Uncle! You can’t just abandon him!"
"Help? How? Didn’t we learn our lesson last time?" Ma Dazhuang frowned and peeked through the door crack. Just then, Fang Zichen happened to pass by. Sensing something, he paused, turned around, and smirked at the gate, making a throat-slitting gesture.
Ma Dazhuang’s hair stood on end, not daring to breathe.
"Dad?" Ma Wen called.
"Go... go back inside." He hurriedly pulled Ma Wen into the house.
Fang Zichen didn’t kick the door down—it seemed he was just passing by.
The Ma family waited in terror for a long time. Only when they saw him stroll away did they dare to relax.
Fang Zichen bought ten eggs from the village chief and stopped by to chat with the old man before heading back.
Guaizai was already awake and in the kitchen. Hearing movement outside, he dashed out and hugged Fang Zichen’s leg.
"Father, where did you go?"
"Bought eggs for you," Fang Zichen said, shaking the basket in his hand. He crouched down and asked, "Does your hand still hurt?"
Of course, it did.
Guaizai raised his hand to Fang Zichen’s mouth. "Father blow on it, then it won’t hurt anymore."
"Alright, let Father blow some magic breath on it."
That evening, Zhao Ger followed Fang Zichen’s suggestion and specially steamed a bowl of egg custard for Guaizai. This dish wasn’t rare in the village—families with children would make it every couple of weeks.
Guaizai sniffed the air and, still in Fang Zichen’s arms, craned his neck to ask Zhao Ger,
"Daddy, smells good. What is it?"
Zhao Ger replied, "Egg custard."
"I know," Guaizai said. "I saw Ma Xiaoshun eat it before. It smelled so good!"
Fang Zichen pinched his little cheek. "Have you ever had any?"
Guaizai’s face fell. He shook his head. "No. They wouldn’t let me eat it... or Daddy either."
Fang Zichen kissed him. "My poor son. Then from now on, Father will work hard to earn money and buy you lots and lots of eggs, okay?"
"Okay!" Guaizai brightened up, nuzzling his neck. "Cook yummy ones. Father eat, Daddy eat, Guaizai eat too."
Fang Zichen’s paternal instincts soared. He spent the whole evening holding Guaizai, feeding him egg custard, and even personally washing his feet—playing the role of the perfect dad.
Zhao Ger listened to them all night—"Father is the best," "Father is amazing," "Sweetheart," "My precious"—back and forth, so sickeningly sweet that he could hardly stand it.
Before bed, Fang Zichen patted Guaizai’s chest and promised, "Sleep well. Tomorrow, Father will take you to settle the score."
Guaizai nodded obediently, holding one of Fang Zichen’s fingers with his left hand and Zhao Ger’s with his right, then drifted off.
Fang Zichen stared at him for a while before suddenly saying, "Zhao Ger, he doesn’t look much like you."
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