Chapter 12: Defiance
"Zhao Ger?" Fang Zichen hurried over, his tone darkening when he saw Zhao Ger's red, swollen eyes.
"Why are you here? And crying? Did someone bully you?"
Zhao Ger's legs had gone numb from squatting, and he staggered slightly as he stood up. Fang Zichen reached out to steady him, but Zhao Ger instead grabbed his hand tightly.
Holding onto him firmly, Zhao Ger lowered his head without speaking.
Fang Zichen blinked at him, then realized belatedly: "Don’t tell me you thought I ran away and you’d become a widower, so you cried out of sadness?"
"I..." Zhao Ger couldn’t get the words out.
That was exactly what had happened.
He had been waiting the entire afternoon—or rather, ever since parting with Fang Zichen. But no matter how long he waited, even as night fell, Fang Zichen still hadn’t returned. He had left Guaizai at Zhou Ger’s house and come to the village entrance alone.
He didn’t know if Fang Zichen would return, but when they parted, Fang Zichen had promised to come back, so he believed him.
But believing didn’t stop the fear in his heart.
Especially after last night’s dream, he felt uneasy.
Seeing his hesitation, Fang Zichen understood.
He found it amusing, but at the same time, an indescribable feeling welled up inside him.
"I said I’d come back, so I did," he reassured. "With you and Guaizai here, where else would I go? Even if I left, I’d take you both with me."
They were already bound together, one way or another. From the moment Zhao Ger knelt before him and asked him to marry him, they had become inseparable.
Zhao Ger tightened his grip and turned to look at him, desperately seeking confirmation: "Really?"
His voice still carried a nasal tone from crying, and his eyes held undisguised hope as he gazed at Fang Zichen. Under that gaze, Fang Zichen couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.
He simply nodded and said, "Mhm."
Zhao Ger sniffled and couldn’t help but smile.
At nineteen, even though he was already a father, Zhao Ger’s features still held a youthful softness. He wasn’t yet mature enough to hide all his emotions - good or bad, and his feelings were open, his thoughts transparent, easy for anyone to read.
Fang Zichen unconsciously reached out and wiped his face. "Don’t cry in places like this next time. At night, it’s like something out of a ghost story."
Zhao Ger: "..."
His sadness suddenly vanished, replaced by a flicker of irritation.
"I bought you some buns," Fang Zichen changed the subject.
Zhao Ger was surprised. "You found work?"
"Yep!" Fang Zichen took the pouch from his waist and handed it to him. "Look, this is what I earned in half an afternoon. Pretty impressive, huh?"
The pouch felt heavy in Zhao Ger’s hands.
He traced the slightly raised patches on the pouch, lost in thought. He had made this pouch years ago from scraps of fabric Madam Ma had discarded after sewing New Year’s clothes. The colors were mismatched - patches of blue and purple. It wasn’t pretty, but he had carried it with him for years. It had never held so many coins before. Usually, whatever few coins he managed to save were spent before they could warm the pouch.
Before, just having copper coins in the pouch had given him a sense of security. But now, it was different.
Zhao Ger handed the pouch back. "You keep it."
Fang Zichen thought for a moment, then took ten copper coins and placed them in Zhao Ger’s palm. "You save these. I’ll keep the rest. Tomorrow, I’ll buy some things on my way back from work. It’s too late today."
"You’re going again tomorrow?"
"Yep. The foreman said they’re short on workers these days."
"Can I come with you?"
"No," Fang Zichen said, stuffing the bun into his hands. "Hurry up and eat."
Zhao Ger pursed his lips and took small bites.
The bun was soft, and as he chewed, a faint sweetness lingered on his tongue.
"It’s really good," he said.
After finishing one, Zhao Ger refused to eat any more. He insisted Fang Zichen take the rest back, then went to Zhou Ger’s house to fetch Guaizai.
Once home, Guaizai clung to Fang Zichen as soon as he saw him. Whether Zhao Ger had said something or the child was just perceptive, Guaizai had picked up on Zhao Ger’s unease all day. Now, he followed Fang Zichen like a shadow, watching him intently.
Fang Zichen owned only one decent set of clothes. After washing in the yard, he changed into the short-sleeved garment he'd been wearing when he first arrived. Zhao Ger took his dirty clothes to wash
After wringing them out and hanging them up, they’d be dry by morning.
Fang Zichen sat under the eaves, watching Guaizai stand quietly beside him, holding a bun bigger than his face. It was almost comical.
"Why’ve you been following me all night?" Fang Zichen teased. "Aren’t you afraid I’ll fart you away?"
Guaizai gripped the bun tightly. "Watching Father."
The words seemed random, but Fang Zichen understood. He wasn’t at an age where he naturally adored children, but there was something about Guaizai that he liked—maybe it was his maturity or his pitiable circumstances. He pulled Guaizai between his legs and held him there. "Father’s not going anywhere. Don’t worry. Eat up. Don’t you like the bun?"
"It’s good," Guaizai said.
"Then eat up." Fang Zichen pinched his cheek. "Poor little thing, you’re smaller than the village chief’s piglets. When Father earns more, I’ll fatten you up, okay?"
"Okay." Guaizai brightened and took a small bite. His eyes lit up, and he immediately shoved the bun toward Fang Zichen’s mouth. "Bun good. Father eat too."
Fang Zichen felt deeply moved.
This kid is so filial!
Raising him wouldn’t be a waste.
"You eat it. I’ve already had mine. This is for you."
"Thank you, Father."
Guaizai was small, and his appetite wasn’t big. Even when starving, he could only finish half a bun. Zhao Ger saved the rest.
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